Northern Noise

Last night we had the relish tray.  We switched it to the night before Thanksgiving a few years ago, when we realized that a) we all like the relish tray, and b) we always ate too much of it and then weren't hungry for dinner.  We do a full, yummy relish tray with veggies, meats, cheeses, olives.   We also had a nice tray of cookies... which the dog jumped up, stole, and finished off.  aargh. Meal today was perfect.  Stomach, full.  Soul, happy.  Peace to all.

Our world is ice even the dog pauses at the door what is this world, this rain? Outside the sound of dripping snow snow sliding off roofs like springtime. Inside, the woodstove, sounds of boy and dog, snoring husband wakes for football (or wii). The world seems insulated, quiet. Peace.

Thanksgivings growing up were always pretty good.  We always had good food and my aunt & uncle & cousins came over.  When we were really little, we always rode snowmachines.  Even when we were young, 7 and 8, we would take off from the house driving snowmachines.  My dad had taught us to be safe, we rode together usually, and hardly ever rode off by ourselves when it was too far to walk back. I loved riding snowmachines with my dad.  Two winters I even raced with him.  I was the junior high point state champion one year on the oval track.  When I was about 20 I went out on an all day ride with my dad and my uncle.  Mt. Redoubt had erupted earlier, and there was finally new snow to cover the ash.  The sun was out and it was a great ride.  I remember speeding across a lake and looking over at my dad and my uncle only to realize that the lake wasn't solidly frozen under the layers of snow and ash.  Where our trails should have been, open water surged up.  We just kept on goi

I think I've been coping with the whole "no running water" situation pretty well. It's weird because, as I've said, when you're set up to live with no water it's not that big of a deal.  But when your life is set up to utilize running water, it's hard to rework your life to fit in driving to showers, fetching water, and going to the laundry mat. I've been showering at the local pool in the morning before work.  The water is hot, there's not a lot of people, and it works just fine.  The other day there was a glitch because I remembered my toothbrush but forgot the toothpaste.  I hit a convenience store on the way to work and renewed my minty fresh breath.  Today was a bit more challenging. I felt good this morning as I left the house.  Made Jed's lunch, got my stuff together, hit the road and enjoyed Morning Edition on NPR as I headed into town.  Had a nice, hot shower, combed out my hair and went to get dressed in my work clothes.  Rea

I can measure eras of my life in shirts.  In high school, I had this great purple and cream colored flannel shirt that was my "go to" for when I came home and just needed to settle in and snuggle.  I remember that for my 16th birthday my parents gave me a beautiful amethyst birthstone ring which I wore all the time.  One day I couldn't find it, and panic ensued.  Mom even said some prayers to St. Jude, patron saint of the lost.  I finally found it in the front breast pocket of that flannel shirt. In college I first went through my "huge red sweatshirt from St. John's University" phase.  It was huge, almost down to my knees and super warm.  I wonder what happened that shirt?  I know that for a period of about 2 years every picture of me seems to show me wearing that shirt.  My next favorite, which lasted for awhile was a thick cotton plaid, blue and grey and white.  I wore that shirt until it just feel apart.  I remember coming home from college one break a

Dear John, I want a man who knows what love is all about.  You are generous, kind, thoughtful.  People who are not like you admit to being useless and inferior.  You have ruined me for other men.  I yearn for you.  I have no feelings whatsoever when we’re apart.  I can be forever happy – will you let me be yours? Gloria VS Dear John, I want a man who knows what love is.  All about you are generous, kind, thoughtful people who are not like you.  Admit to being useless and inferior.  You have ruined me.  For other men, I yearn.  For you, I have no feelings whatsoever.  When we’re apart, I can be forever happy.  Will you let me be? Yours, Gloria

I'm embracing the fact that there are some things I can't change.  Like water for example, or lack thereof.  They mystery of the Hadaway water system is a prime example of the fact that knowledge and science don't have all the answers.  All of the logical problems have been explored, a systematic examination of the system has been executed, theories of heat and ice and conductivity have been discussed.  The result....nada. So instead of stressing out, I'm going to my happy place.  In my mind water (and wine) flows abundantly.  Birds sing, rainbows sparkle and chocolate grows on bushes.  In this happy place it's okay to never shower, and the smells of the unwashed are welcomed and celebrated, bottled like a fine perfume.  The dirt in my family's ears is prime growing soil for a variety of luscious plants, including delicacies like tomatoes, roses and blackberries.  Personal hygiene is considered vanity and women proudly braid their leghairs instead of worrying

Today my son is doing his homework and he's adding numbers out loud.  "3 + 6 = 9. "  Then he starts to laugh.  So I ask him what's so funny.  " S-i-x sounds like s-e-x-x, " he giggles. " So why is that funny ?" I ask? " You know why. It's s-e-x-x ," he answers. " So what does s-e-x-x spell? " I ask him. He makes a face. " Mo-om.  You know what it spells. " So I ask a new question, " So why is the word sex funny?" " Mom, you know why.  It's funny.  For one thing it sounds like it would be s-e-x but really it's s-e-x-x." (I'm not sure exactly how to proceed from here.  This is uncharted territory.  Hmmmm.) " So do you know what it means? "  I ask. " Yes. "  He sounds shocked that I would question that. "So tell me what it means. " "I'm not going to tell you what it means.  You know what it means." "Okay Jedidiah, if you

I've become a wimp.  No water since Saturday and distressed.  I mean, we're surviving but I seem unable to wash dishes, wash my children, cook dinner or brush my teeth.  I did go to a friend's a shower tonight, first one since Friday, and I must say that even I know I smell better.  (Up until I'd just been sitting next to the dog and blaming any stink on her.)  The plumber did finally make it up our driveway today and spent some time, only to decide that different parts were needed and that he wouldn't be able to fix it all until Wednesday.  Wednesday.  Two. More. Days. The worse part of this all is that I lived without running water for a long time and did just fine.  Granted, I didn't have children to care for and most of the time I didn't have a professional type job, but it was no big deal.  I was more set up for waterless living, with buckets and tanks and a system for showers and clothes washing.  Now, I'm lazy and reliant on turning on the fauce

Bob being gone means a few things.  One is that I can have french fries covered in cheese and gravy for dinner.  Another is that I can spend a whole Sunday without football.  Not that I mind football, I just mind not getting to choose football.  No Bob also means no Dexter tonight, as I can't watch the next episode without him.  I can watch Amityville Horror up on the bedroom tv, and even have a manhattan while I do - on a work night. Bob being gone also means I won't sleep very well.  I never sleep well without him, although Della the devil dog will come snuggle me and I'll let her have his pillow.  It's not quite the same though.  She doesn't snore.