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Showing posts from April, 2013

My Friends

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As we get closer to the end, I am certain that my blogs will get sappier about life in the District. Most importantly, they will probably involve these amazing ladies that I have met and how I truly adore them, their children, and their husbands. Mostly, I love the gentlemen.

It's not because I know them so well, rather- they let us get together and stay together until some ungodly hour with no complaints. They fetch us wine and deliver it to wherever we have gathered before scooping up a kid and heading out again. They take pictures of us. Lots of pictures. They clean up the mess we made at whoever's house we made it in, probably thankful that they got a night off-- just as much as we are thankful that we, too, got a night together.



We talk. A lot. The ladies, that is. We talk about all sorts of things. There really is not much to gossip about, because we only know each other. We gossip about our children. We talk about the men. We drink wine.

Lots of wine.

We change diapers…

Pretty Cool Day

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LMC and I got to see some pretty cool things today. The weather was perfect for an impromptu Wednesday 'benture!
We asked Miss Kim to leave a vase outside so we could pick some flowers for her. She obliged with a wide-mouth Ball mason jar. She's so urban. 
Off to the mall to pick daffodils and "white fluffy ones" we would stop, pick, blow, and hang tight to until the next flower. After flower picking, we wound around the mall from the Lincoln Memorial, Vietnam Memorial, reflecting pool, WWII memorial and home again. 
One of the things I will miss the most about this great city is the WWII memorial and seeing the men who fought for us with no idea that generations later a mother would meet a vet at a memorial for their sacrifice. That mother would tell her 3.75 year old that this man put his life on the line for us. This man, with gray hair and wrinkles was once my age, with a family of his own and left them for the greater good. This man deserves our thanks and our appr…

The Unblogable Blog

I wrote a blog yesterday, which I thought was pretty funny and took on a not-talked-about subject.

I thought it might be on the cusp of TMI, so I let a friend read it.

Turns out, it wasn't just on the cusp, rather slap in the middle of TMI land. So I set it aside. This is the internet, after all.

The blog started in my head as the maintenance man was fishing in our hallway bathroom. Fishing?

Oh yeah.

After LMC finished in the bathroom, I heard the garden flush a second time.

Then a third.

I walked down the hall to find a very innocent 3.75 year old looking at me with doe eyes and halo shining above her flaxen curls. She smiled and said, "I can't make the bubbles go away."

Uh-Oh.

The water of the abyss had risen to the very edge of the garden without a drop on the floor. She carefully backed away with my pulling at her elbow.

"What'd you flush?"
"Nothing. Only T-T and ... go in there."
"You aren't in trouble, what went down to the wate…

4 months...

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And that thumb is going no where. She thinks she's smarter than her mama.

Her mama knows such.


LW!

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Masters week is always so much fun. Friends and family come to town for golf and parties. Making a long story short, and mostly because I am typing this in a recliner with MB sleeping on my chest, my cousin let me take pictures of her son, LW.
He's pretty damn cute.

His dad grew up the street from where my parents live. Several months ago, they sold the house and a wonderful young family purchased it and have not moved in yet, as they gutted the kitchen. The mom and I packed up the chil'rin and went to play in the old backyard.

He was just about as cute as they come.

I love his smile and his great attitude!




The House

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The house, the house, the house.

There is so much to say about ... the house. I'll try and keep it to a minimum.

Did I mention the house was built in the sixties? We are investing in a good jig saw to cut off those loop-de-loops under the cabinets.


And let's not get started on the ultra-hip stainless backsplash... on top of the formica.


The paneling is going to come tumbling down...


But those cabinets are staying.... not kidding. I'm going to paint them. Honest. They're in the laundry room, and it will be a good place to practice my skills.


 Every room needs a little something... some more than others.


The terra cotta floor is staying, mostly because I have discovered that it is a PITA to remove. We will be laying hardwoods around it. As I sit and type, Husband is on the phone with the sawmill. Maple? Not the syrup, rather the floors. Most hardwoods are oak, either red or white, and most floors are 3 1/4 inch. MOST. Ours are going to be hard maple and will be 4 inch.


Thank you.

From across the country, friends- internet friends and non-internet friends- have reached out to me asking how Brother is doing. And I have not updated the blog because I really had nothing to report. On one hand, no news is good news. But, when you live so far away- radio silence might as well be deafening because the mind wanders where it wanders. When you can't sit in an uncomfortable chair, eat stale turkey sandwiches, and make 10 trips to the cafeteria in a day-- you just feel...

helpless.
Not wanting to bug my SIL, rather wanting to know she is loved and adored- I prayed for her. When I finally got to speak to her, I told her that she and Brother dovetailed together so well. They each picked up the other's strengths and helped combat the weaknesses. I think I might have used the term "ying and yang."
God truly has a plan.
Everyday was going to be discharge day and everyday was not. As frustrated as I was with the not-knowing and only getting a handful of phone …

In Anger

Easter is always a wonderful day. My in-laws invite the entire Presbyterian church out to their little farm on the outskirts of their small town. The long-standing, white haired preacher comes out and returns thanks over several hams, turkeys, salads and butter beans. Everyone brings a dish and everyone stays until long after the sun is set. Sweet tea flows and the children in their Easter best lose their shoes as they tumble out of the car running to Cook-ah's house. She sits on the porch and raises her voice in welcome as they arrive.

There is an Easter egg hunt in the front yard and whoever finds the "golden" egg gets an Easter basket full of prizes.

We hold hands in the room with the food and listen to crisp clear words from a Man of God speak from his heart to our souls. We are renewed. We rejoice in the Knowledge that we have been given. For one day, I am Presbyterian. Before he leaves with his sweet wife, the Preacher seeks me out and holds my face in his two larg…