Maintenance! What? No!

Yesterday, I ran some errands in Santa Fe. Wearing sandals that had black rubber foot beds resulted in the bottoms of my feet being…black. I decided to hop into the shower to clean them up, did my pedicure foot scrub, then soaked in the tub afterwards.



I’m “Kindled” up, reading a good story. ThatManILove is sleep on the bed, trying to catch up from late nights of solid customer meetings and entertainment. 


I hear something over and above the movie on the television. I think it’s TMIL talking to me, so I say, “What? Did you say something?”


And then I hear, “Maintenance!”


And then, “NO!”


I’m all, “WHAT?


“MAINTENANCE!”


“NOOO!”


“WHAT?”


And then I hear TMIL talking…supposedly to the maintenance man. Who had, by the way, transgressed into our hotel room.


Without our permission.  The bathroom door was open, but all he could possibly see is my feet.  (That's my story and I'm sticking to it.)


It seems someone’s tub was flooding the Old House restaurant downstairs. They were trying to Sherlock it out. Still not sure if it was ours.


But the manager came up, full of apologies, and comped us wine and cheese.


I would have been happy with a full-out mani/pedi; not to mention a new pair of sandals that don’t turn your feet black.


Just sayin’.


It’s never boring around here.

A Life In The Day...

ThatManILove and I booked flights to go to Dallas for the day plus an overnight stay.  8am Saturday flights.  Which mean we had to be at the airport at 7 a.m.  No problem, just an everyday occurrence at the Sounding Forth casa.  And then...it happened. Late Friday night, I get a  call.  My son just arrived home from a long trip to Arkansas.  Twenty minutes later, around midnight, Elder Son walks through the door, saying, “Mom.  I’m here.  Will you look at my leg?”

Four plus years ago, Elder Son had a serious leg surgery that our good doctor healed with a distal realignment procedure.  Sounds easy, but it’s not, by any means.  We had problems upon problems -  he developed blood clots, lost tons of weight, then the wound would not close because he had lost so much weight the skin wouldn’t stretch, and I could go on.  One thing led to another, and it took him 4 months, home health care, and 2 subsequent surgeries before he healed up and got on with his life.

I bet you’re wondering, “Is this the same leg?”

Yes.  Darnit.  Dang the luck.  Creepers.  It’s the same leg.

ThatManILove and I  and Elder Son discussed our options.  Should we go to the Midland emergency room NOW?  The leg is hot.  Tripled in size.  Hard to the touch.  Should we go to the Lubbock emergency room, where Elder Son’s doctor lives and practices, so he could followup?  Between the three of us, we can’t get to a firm answer.

I had a thought.  I ran to get my iPhone...scrolled through the contacts...and found the good Doctor’s cell number - after all these years, I still had it. Elder Son took a picture of his leg, compared to his other leg.  And then, he forwarded the picture, and a short message to his doctor.  Amazingly, said doctor calls Elder Son immediately (remember, it’s after midnight!), and they formulate a plan for Elder Son to go to the emergency room during the daylight hours when the ortho doctor is on call.

By 1:30 a.m., it’s been decided that TMIL and I will go on our trip, but cut it down to a one day trip, with no overnight stay.  Elder Son will go with his father to the emergency room and we’ll be back that night to check on him.

We leave for Dallas at 8am, go take care of our business, have lunch with friends, and head back to the airport.  I call my son, who doesn’t answer.  I call his father, and find out that his mom, my son’s grandmother, has suffered a stroke and they’re all at the emergency room.  So, father and son are at the emergency room where they are supposed to be, but for all the wrong reasons...

We miss our direct flight, and have to fly....from Dallas to Albuquerque, and then to Midland.  Yeah.  We flew over our town, just to come back 2 hours later.

We fly into Midland, and head straight to the hospital to be with Elder Son, his dad, aunt, and cousin.  When we arrive, Nanny has been stabilized to the point that she can be moved into ICU.  We all gather in the waiting room, and then, 2 by 2, get to go into her room to see her.  She’s awake, and communicating...I’m grateful.  We love this woman!

ThatManILove and I head home, hug the WonderDogs, and hit the sack. 

Today will find us at the emergency room, working on Elder Son’s leg.  We covet your prayers, for healing for both Elder Son, and his Nanny.

It’s never boring around here.  


Sunday evening update:  The ER Doc drained 120cc (for some reason, that is all he would drain) of fluid from Elder Son's knee; the Doc doesn't think his knee is infected.   Nanny seems to be coming around and reports have her sitting up eating a meal this afternoon.  Thanks for your prayers!

My Back Yard Looks Like a Demilitarized Zone....

Wow.  It’s gone from clean to scene in about 2 days here por la casa.  You see, ThatManILove had a dream.  And one of our friends, Doug, is a whiz at drawing out plans...and they're both good at executing said directive.  ThatManILove sees a plan, it's Katy Bar That Door...you can consider that puppy faded, put to bed, complete. No ifs, ands, or buts.

The next thing I knew, there are strange men over here digging up our entire backyard.  Bringing over slabs of rock for me to pick out colors.  Limestone?  Flagstone?  or Rosa?  Or Arizona?  Arrrrrrgggghhhh!  Digging major holes which are, by the way, driving Zanna the Wonder Girl crazy,  since they have filled them with water in order to ready them for cementing.  She swears there are birds in those holes, and tries to swipe them out with her paw.  We think she sees their reflection in the water.  Her high dollar trainers would be so proud of this girly dog.

this morning....

I digress.  Please forgive me.
I came home this afternoon, and there are these huge pillars of wood sticking up in the air.  Trenches dug all over our back yard.  Zanna’s pissed about that, too.  She looks at us like, “Hey.  I get time out when I dig, what the hey?  You’re not even scolding those guys.” 

Did I mention the phone line was inadvertently cut?  Oh, yeah.  Not that we use it, except for dsl.  And at the last minute, when our friend had already come by and replaced our ancient gas line, ThatManILove decided he needed yet another tap for the fire pit?  Can you say “Cha-ching!” three times in a row, really fast?  YIKES.  We passed up the DIY budget days ago.  And ThatManILove’s talking about a “water feature”.  Maybe even a koi pond.  I guess Zack and Zanna would be German Shorthair Fishing Dogs.  

That’s right, fire pit - water feature - koi pond.  ThatManILove is creating his own little Margaritaville oasis in the back yard.  And when he’s on a mission, he’s on one.  And Zanna is more than stressed out and acting all weird.  There are PEOPLE, Mom, invading HER territory!! And Zack?  He’s loving all this activity - because that means ThatManILove is a wee bit distracted. Distracted dad =  free Zack. Today, ThatManILove got a phone call from the city.  

“Do you have a large brown dog?”

“Yes sir.”

“Do you know he’s running free?”

“No sir.”

The city employee gave ThatManILove the address, which happened to be 4 houses down from ours, and when TMIL went out to get him, the city employee was holding Zack by the collar.  Thank God he didn’t call animal control, we would have had to attend Defensive Doggie and pay a hefty fine.  I tell you all that to inform you that Zack is quietly standing by any door that might crack open enough to allow him the slightest chance of sneaking out.

this afternoon

Within a week or so, though, it should all be shaping up.  And that will be exciting. Today, ThatManILove said, “I might have rushed this all a bit - our timing may be a little off, but babe, I think it will all be worth it.”   Me:  “I just want to finish the kitchen and paint.”  Him:  “Babe, we’ll get lots of use out of this outdoor area - I’m even putting the outlets in so we can pull the musical instruments out if we want.”  Me:  “I know, but people have to walk through our house to get to this outdoor area.”  Him:  “We are so going to enjoy this, I promise.”  I know, I know, but how long is it gonna take this WonderWorld to develop?  Did I tell y'all that it rained today, so none of the workers showed up?  And when I say rain, I mean SPRINKLED.  Weenies.  All of them.  Weenies.

What can I say to that "We are so going to enjoy this, I promise?" ?  I mean, holy crap, we certainly can’t stop now...but if he starts pricing lions and tigers and bears, oh, MY!  Our yard may be paid for, but it's not that freakin' big!

Just finish the backyard already...and then, the backsplash in my kitchen and paint, cowboy, and I’ll be  one happy camperette.  Yes, I will. And honey, you will, too!


It's never boring around here!

I Cannot Make This Stuff Up

I’m going to be writing this in a delayed fashion, because...

1. I’m still in a little shock

2. I’m still returning voice mails and e-mails and that’s taking up huge portions of my day. People are pouring out love, though, and I thank you for all your sweet and straight up comments. I love you all!

So. It’s Wednesday morning. I woke up at 6 a.m., a little late for me. Zack the Wonderdog was snuggled under the covers next to ThatManILove. I stealthily crept into the TV room, popped open the Mac (another story in itself) and started returning e-mails. I worked on this hard for about an hour.

And then, I lay back down on the couch and crashed.

At 9:30 a.m., ThatManILove came in to the room, concerned that he woke up and I wasn’t by his side. He said, “Babe, your phone’s been ringing off the wall.”

He gave it to me, and, dang. The voice mail was full AGAIN - 14 messages, and 15 e-mails. He started laughing. And then, he said, “Well! I checked my phone, and I have two messages, and three e-mails.” I just looked at him. He said, “Well, okay, yeah...they’re from yesterday.”

He is so funny.

He asked me if I wanted to go eat breakfast somewhere. Did I? No. I wanted to bury my head under the covers, but I knew that I could not do that. I had to get busy.

We compromised. He offered to make me cinnamon toast...a comfort food that hails back to my youth.

So off he went to the kitchen, dogs in hot pursuit. I hear him banging around, and before long, I smell cinnamon and butter. Yummmm. In a second, though, I smell something burning, and I cry out to him. He quickly assures me he’s got it, and in a minute, he comes back into the TV room bearing cinnamon toast. His is burned, but mine is not.

He sits down by me, and grabs a piece of toast, and bites into it. Immediately, his face screws up. Something’s not right. He spits it out.

I say, “What’s wrong?”

He smells of it, then reaches out for my plate.

He says, and I kid you not, “I put salt on it instead of sugar.”

And off he goes to make the real thing. You think we’re turned a little sideways by all this job deal? ThatManILove is a gourmet cook, I swear. The dogs wouldn’t even eat it.

I laughed until I cried. I did. It's never boring around here.

TrueLife Jewelry!

Funny things that happened today:

Today, I went to lunch with customers. Ten of them. And we ate at a local barbeque place.

The restaurant filled up. I looked around, and I knew someone at every table - they were all salespeople. And none of them were with customers - they were with fellow co-workers. I had the only customers in the place. Craziness. That doesn't happen often! My customers were teasing me about running for mayor.

After I dropped the customers back at their office, I went to my office to ready for 1:30 p.m. appointment. Picking up two co-workers, we're driving out of our parking garage. I turn to them and say, "Can y'all smell barbeque? That's what we ate today, and I swear, that's all I can smell." They assured me they couldn't smell anything, and off we drove to the 1:30 appointment. We get into the VP's office, and conduct our meeting. Everything went well, and we returned to the office. I get to my desk, check my emails. I'm returning a call on speaker phone, and look down at my desk, and catch something peripherally. There is a small 1/8" piece of brisket on my chest. I guess I'd been wearing it as a badge of honor for the last 2 hours. Oh, no, you didn't, you say. Oh, yes, I did. I think the sale was successful. Who says aromatherapy doesn't work on my customers?

I met a saleswoman friend, Connie, at Starbucks for a drink and to network. While we were there, a young man came in and delivered quinceanara invitations to a customer. They were so striking, I asked to look at them. The young woman showed me her invitations, and I got the young man's business card. I can spot talent a mile away, and this man has it in spades. Connie and I started talking to him, and referred him to several events upcoming in the Basin that might welcome his photography skills. His work is amazing. He jumped right on it, and probably will be working his way into these agencies and helping them out. It will be a win-win for everyone, I promise. I love it when stuff like this falls together, it's so much fun!

Later this afternoon, I called one of the VP's in the office to tell him of a recent (in the last 5 minutes) sale. It was after 6 p.m., so I thought he was at home. "Mark, I hate to bother you." I can hear mumbling, and laughing. "I'm sorry - did you just walk through the door at the house?" "No," he said. "I said, I'm next door...in my office." Yeah. I felt s.t.u.p.i.d. But we had a good laugh!

It's never boring around here!

Out of the Mouths of Babes...

Last weekend found us in the car with Little Brother, his mom and younger brother (let's name him Dulce, since he's so sweet!), heading to Rock Springs to drop Little Brother off at Camp Eagle. (By the way, what an awesome place!)

We’re driving through the country south of Junction, Texas, home of several game ranches. We've seen horses, cows, sheep, goats, buffalo...and then we get to the good stuff. We’re having fun spotting all the wildlife, when a squeal comes out of the back seat. It’s Dulce, and he's jumping up and down in the seat and pointing…

“Look, y’all! It’s a deer – a real one! Not one of those fake heads that you see hanging on the wall!”

Mamarrazi Strikes Again!!

Meet Lady E, the precious young lady who graces our lives (and that of Elder Son!).  Lady E graduated yesterday from Texas Tech University.  Congrats to you, Lady E!  We're proud of you!

Elder Son acts like he gets tired of Mamarrazi (his name for me)...but he really likes it. Anyway, don't they make a beautiful couple? 

I took a ton of pictures yesterday.  This morning, I called Elder Son.

Me:  Hey, dude.  Wake up!  

Elder Son:   Okay.

Me:  Hey, the pictures are great.  I sent them to you via Snapfish.

Elder Son:  I'll look at them when I get up.

Me:  Okay.

Me:  One more thing.

Elder Son:  Yeah, Mom?

Me:  I hate to inform you of this, but Lady E's prettier than you.

Elder Son:  Whaaaattt?

Me:  Lady E's prettier than you.

Elder Son:  Just this time.

He's such a smartass.  And I don't have a clue where that comes from.

I've Created A Monster

I introduced ThatManILove to Facebook.

Last night, I couldn't sleep.  Somehow, I woke him up, as well.

Next thing I knew, he was logging into his FB account on his crackberry and posting an update.

Now he says he's going to start an anonymous blog.

Oh, Lordy...What have I done???

Quiet In the Theatre, Please!

Some of you know that, despite his oilfield career and time spent in the sticks, ThatManILove is somewhat of a culture snob. He LOVES plays, independent movies, poetry, reading, art galleries, anything that has to do with the “Ahhts, Dahlink!”. It’s almost an obsession with him. His love for the arts has opened up a whole new world for me, and I love it.

Coming in to Denver, I saw on my boarding pass (at 5:30a.m., as we boarded the red-eye to Denver from Dallas) that Phantom of the Opera was showing that same night. ThatManILove took the liberty of purchasing tickets, and when I got to the hotel, room service awaited. (I know, I’m spoiled!) Room service cost us out the butt, with a $28 dollar delivery charge (from the restaurant in.the.hotel, people!)! And when ThatManILove figured out he tipped on top of that, he wasn't a happy camper. This menu should read "feed the body, nourish the soul, max out your credit card".

We enjoyed the weather, and walked to the theatre. Our seats were divine. We settled in to watch the play. Neither of us had ever seen it, though ThatManILove was very familiar with the story and had seen the movie. The set was amazing, as were the costumes.

Midway through the first half, I’m more than a little perplexed, but trying to keep it to myself. I just can’t get the flow of the story. And I’ve been to the opera in several cities, so I’m no dummy about it. I just chalked my inability to comprehend to the fact that I’d had little sleep, worry about my brother, intense meeting that day in Denver, etc. And, then…

That ManILove leaned over: Are you enjoying this?

Me (Oh, God. Is it that apparent? Was I wriggling around? Sighing? What?): Sure, honey!
TMIL: Do you understand what’s going on?
Me: Uh, yeah. I got it, I understand. (Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.)

TMIL: I'm glad you do. I know the story and I'm having a hard time following it. I don't know if they've abbreviated it, or they're having a hard time flowing or what, but something's off.

TMIL: This is horrible. Do you want to leave?

I was in shock. And then, horror of horrors, I started giggling. I mean, this was so out of sync for ThatManILove. He knew we were in trouble then. Our seats were such that he bundled me out of there, posthaste. By the time we cleared the door to the theatre and got to the elevator, tears were streaming down my face and he was laughing.

He cracks me up.

I now have a whole new appreciation for his appreciation of the arts. When it’s good, it is very very good. When it’s very bad, we are out of there! Woohoo, Dahlink!!

I'm Going Green - The New Stimulus Plan

The air is dry in Midland. Humidity? Zero, people.

It is even more dry in Denver, a fact to which my hair can attest. I got off that plane, we secured the rental car, and ThatManILove dropped me off at my meeting. My hair had so much static electricity in it, I could have electrified 1/2 of Denver.

I went and dropped over $80 at Ulta for hair products. Until I implemented the use of said products, my hair looked like this. Okay, I’m lying. My hair didn’t even look this good. It was either SCREAMING or stuck flat to my head in no style ever seen by man, woman, or child.

Wonder if I'll qualify for a new "Going Green" grant from Obama?

I Got My Rock Moves

I’ve been gritching about how busy I’ve been this week in the Metroplex. ThatManILove and I have virtually gone from one event to another, with no down time inbetween. So, I thought I’d show you a picture of our hotel room. Heavy on the "our". It takes a-two to tango like-a dees, compadres.

Two days ago, it was spotless. Heck. One day ago it was spotless! As our schedule graduated exponentially, so did the level of trashing this room. I woke up this morning at 6:30 a.m. after going to sleep around 1:00 a.m., and this is what I saw.

Don’t be hatin’ until you walk with us. We’re usually decently clean people, I really like to have everything picked up and in it’s place before I lay my head down upon the pillow. But this weekend? We might as well be rock stars. The saving graces are that all the linens are intact, the mirrors remain unbroken, and we’ll be packing up within the hour.

And all will be well.

And Emily Post Turns Over In Her Grave

Saturday night I went to eat with family friends. These friends have two adorable children, a girl age 7(I’ll call her Belle) and a boy age 1 ½(I’ll call him Crash). These kids are seriously funny. Belle is elegant, prissy, but not afraid to get dirty, already a heck of a hunter as well as a serious basketball player. Crash is all boy, but flirty and funny, too. Both kiddos are sweet, smart as whips and function well around adults.

We’re through eating, visiting, and all of a sudden, Crash sits up straight in his high chair. He has this look of surprise on his face, says something (we’re not sure what) and points to his bottom. We laugh, and so does Crash.

Mom: Hey, Crash. Need to go to the bathroom?

Crash shakes his head no, and goes on playing, sticking a chopstick into one of those square pretzels, then popping the pretzel into his mouth. He’s pretty dang good at it.

The conversation quickly morphs to how loud Crash’s burps are. Belle is avidly describing just how gross her little brother can get, all the while laughing. She laughs so hard, we all laugh. And then we hear it. And it is LOUD. And LOOOOOONG.

“Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrt!”

Mom, Dad, and I all turn to look at Crash, who looks at us, like, “What?”. And then, it hits us. That sound emanated from Belle.

We look at Belle, and she’s got this surprised look on her elegant little face, but is half smiling, too. Mom and I look at each other, and start that silent shaking laughter, you know, the kind that is so strong, it hurts? Tears are flowing down our faces. Belle starts laughing, Dad starts laughing, and finally, Crash decides he’ll join in, too.

Lord. You can’t pay for entertainment like this.

Fifty-Fifty Split

The Little Brother and his siblings came to spend the night on Friday. The Bowling For Kids Sake (a Big Brothers Big Sisters fundraiser) took place Saturday, and a sleepover sounded fun. Before the kids arrived, I decided I'd better go to the grocery store to stock them up on goodies. My friend Cherie was with me, so to the store we go.

We’re on the far east side of the store, when Cherie says, “Oh, no!”. I turn around, “What’s wrong?”

A young girl has passed Cherie, and though I don’t think she yet knows it, said girl is in quite the bind. Cherie says, “What do we do? We’ve got to stop her!” Janie to the rescue. I shove the cart at Cherie, and start fast walking behind troubled chick, trying to catch her without drawing any attention. Midway, I turn around to Cherie, and say, “Why don't I ever have my camera?”

Now, this girl is no small chick, and she’s got long legs to boot. She’s got on a knee length denim skirt, a long t-shirt, and flip flops. I can’t catch her. She’s talking on her phone, and her hands are full of merchandise. Doesn’t slow her down a bit. I finally catch up to her, on the west end of the store. She turns down the ice cream aisle. Right behind her is a family with two boys and the daddy. They’re looking at the eggs, thank God. I’ve got to catch her.

“Ma’am! Ma’am!” I quietly speak. She finally hears me, and looks at me. “You need to turn around. You’ve got a problem.” She says, “I’m on the phone.” Duh, right. Me: “I know. Ma’am, you need to turn around right now before you really get embarrassed. You’ve split your skirt, and ...ummm, as you know, you...ummmmm, aren’t wearing any underwear.”

She gets off the phone and freaks out. “How bad is it?” Me: “Well, it's split right down the middle, and if your hem and your waistband give, you’re going to be totally naked from the waist down, so I’d say on a scale from 1-10 you’re at a 9.999.” I take her things from her, and tell her to turn the skirt around where the slit is up the thigh. By this time, Cherie's caught up to us. We find a shopping bag to help cover the rest. She’s totally embarrassed, but Cherie and I reassure her that no one saw but us. We part ways and resume our shopping.

Man. It’s never boring around here.

Smile, You're On Candid Latte Camera!

I’m in the drive up (the one prior to and around the corner from the window where your order prints out on the screen) at Starbucks, waiting on them to take my order. While I wait, I’m leaning my head out the window, checking out my highlight colors in the sun. My hairdresser did something different and I swear parts of my hair are red.

The speaker comes on, and the young man says, and I quote:

“Hey, girl. Do you want your usual Venti Chai No Water? And, by the way, you’re hair’s looking good today!”

They must have a view camera here. God. I’m glad I wasn’t picking my nose…or worse.

For The Love Of A Brother

It was a little exciting in the Sounding Forth and Fiberhawk households yesterday. I got a call from my Brother Scott about 10:30 a.m. yesterday.

Hey, Sis. I’m heading to Odessa to the cardiologist, Dr. Raja Naidu.
What?
Yup. I think I may have had a heart attack this morning at work.

When I can breathe, I tell him: Don't do this s**t to me, Scott. If you die on me, I'll freakin' kill you. Seriously.

I know, I am a serious encourager, aren't I? (You always want me around when things are serious - I will remind you just HOW serious.) We laugh, but inside, I am starting to Freak. Out. In. The. Coolest. Way. Possible. I can't breathe. We lost one brother to cancer, not ready to lose Scott, too. He will be 50 this year. He’s fit as a fiddle. Doesn’t drink. Eats anything he wants. Goes 90 mph like someone else y’all know all the time. Doesn’t smoke. Oh, wait. He does smoke. Seriously. Time to ask for help. I get on the prayer e-mail chain.

This morning while at work, Scott had an episode and may have experienced a heart attack. He went straight to the hospital at Big Spring, and they saw something on his EKG that looked suspicious, and wanted to admit and keep him. Scott and Lisa decided to go another route and went to their local physician, who referred them to a cardiologist in Odessa. Scott and Lisa went straight to that cardiologist, who got them in immediately for an examination. The cardiologist has now scheduled an angiogram at 4pm this afternoon. If everything goes well, Scott will get to come home.

Scott seems to be fine, and I’ll be heading over to Odessa to be there before the procedure. Scott and Lisa have 2 sons in high school, 1 in college, and 1 sweet grandchild - all of whom need their dad and grandpa healthy and in his usual 90 mph mode! (Besides that, we still have some competitive sibling rivalry going on - Scott’s not yet beat my shooting score! ;) ) Just wanted to let y’all know and to ask for your prayers for Scott and our family. I’ll update you as I know more.

At 3:45 p.m., we’re with Scott in the pre-surgery room, cracking jokes, having fun. At 4:15 p.m., the nurses take him to the cath lab. Twenty minutes or so later, Dr. Naidu comes to get us, and shows us the angiogram results. We can see Scott laughing with the nurses in the cath lab.
Scott says this is how it went down in the cath lab.

Dr. Naidu asked Scott: What do you eat? Scott : Anything that’s put before me, I’m not picky. Greasy hamburgers, anything. Doctor: Do you smoke? Scott: Yes, about a pack a day. For the last 30 years.

The results? 100% CLEAR. I kid you not. I saw the scan myself, it looks marvelous. We don’t know what caused the episode, so that may remain a mystery. Stress? Muscle spasm? Anyway, Scott was released to go back to work today.

And me? I am so very thankful. I love that brother of mine. And he can beat me shooting anytime. Yeah, well, anytime he thinks he’s big enough. Heh.

Trouble At The Movies - or, How To Really Get His Goat

I know, I know. I screwed up my template by playing with the free Blogger templates. Bear with me, this one is hard to read. I couldn't go back to the original, it lost format and made me crazy. And yeah, it wasn't a far walk.

On to our regularly scheduled program.

ThatManILove is a movie aficianado. So much so, that while he was exiled on the mountain in Pennyslvania, I went to one movie - the Chihuahua movie - and I took the Little Brother. I was bound and determined to save all my movie dates for ThatManILove.

Last night, we decided to take Little Brother to see Mall Cop, and go for the 7:10 p.m. showing. We bought the tickets online early in the afternoon. I decided to take a long bubbly soak in the jacuzzi tub and read a Dixie Cash novel. ThatManILove comes in and gives me a time check, letting me know I have an hour. I get out and get ready. We leave the house at 6:35 p.m.

Such is the setting for the next conversation.

TMIL: Jane. Are you ready? (Remember, he calls me “Jane” when he’s mad?)

Janie: Yes.

TMIL: It’s Saturday night and it’s going to be crowded.

Janie: No, it’s not.

Little Brother: What’s wrong?

Janie: TMIL’s pissed at me because I took so long to get ready and we’re going to be at the theatre right when the movie starts. (Aside to TMIL) The movie’s been out for a while, it won’t be crowded. We’ll get there and get a seat just in time to watch 20 minutes of dancing boxes.

TMIL: See, that’s your thinking. I guess we’re going to be doomed to have this conflict every time we go to the damn show. You always make us be late because you hate the dancing boxes. I think you do it on purpose.

Little Brother: What are the dancing boxes?

TMIL: That’s what Jane calls the previews and advertisements.

We get to the movie, and fight the traffic to find a place to park. People are standing outside, in a line that lasts for.ev.er. And the concessions? Packed to the max. There’s a recession going on, people? What are you doing here? What am I doing here? Oh, Lordy. I am so going to be in trouble. I start to cringe, inside. That man loves his movie popcorn, it's part of the whole experience for him, and it looks like we might have to forgo such. We go straight to the ticket taker, passing up two lines of people that are there for another show. He waves us in, and we go into our theatre.

Said theatre is so freakin’ crowded that we can only find two seats together. And of course, the seats are in the middle of the row, so that means no popcorn for ThatManILove. I mean, two empty seats together in the whole theatre. The advertisements haven’t even started! Little Brother jets us for a single seat down front, saying he likes to sit there. He’s probably just running from our eternal conflict concerning the movies. I’ve told y’all all along he’s a smart kiddo!

We sit down. I glance to my left to check out how ThatManILove is breathing. At the same time, he’s checking me out. I tentatively smile. He doesn’t. And then, he does. He is so jacking with me, and grabs my hand.

We laugh our butts off at the movie. It’s really funny, but to make it even better, the 5 year old little girl sitting to ThatManILove’s right is laughing so hard she’s crying. And ThatManILove got tickled at her laughing, which made me laugh harder.

It’s never boring around here!

Clearfield Corners

It’s time for ThatManILove to come home. Seriously. The PA and the cold are Wearing. Him. Out. And he is in wait mode for some equipment to go to location.

Today, he called the office and talked to Mark, a VP in my company.

TMIL: Hey, Mark!

Mark: Hey, how’s it going up there?

TMIL: Great. Guess what I'm doing?

Mark: I don’t know. What?

TMIL: I’m stuck up in the upper northeast corner of my hotel room, and the only thing that’s holding me up here is static electricity. Fortunately, I had the presence of mind to hang on to myself.

Mark: (roars for freaking minutes.) Cold up there, is it?

TMIL: Freakin’ 18 degrees!

Ummmm. Yeah. Maybe you had to be there.

Christmas is A-Coming!

Elder Son is in town today, and called to have lunch with his MommyDearest. We had a good time. In retrospect, though, I think he was just fishing to see what we were getting him for Christmas, and beg to go hunting. I knew the "fishing" part was going to happen. Now, I just have to guess when Younger Son will do the same thing.

Another thing I pegged about Elder Son was that his friend Booth would call him and tell him he made the blog.

Booth did, and Elder Son told me. It was funny. Booth told him, “Dude. You made the blog again. And I would tell you what you’re getting for Christmas, but your mom made fun of us, and won’t tell on the blog. She knows I read it.”

You probably know that both of our sons are musicians, and that we frequently do concerts somewhere, as a family. Last year, for Christmas, we surprised them with JT tickets, in JT’s own home town of Lenox, Massachusetts. We tucked the tickets into brand new JT cds, so it took them a while to figure it out. Once they did, they both freaked out and started calling all their friends. They love his music (well, heck, who doesn’t??)

Elder Son: So, Mom. What are we getting?

Janie: What makes you think you’re both getting the same things?

Elder Son: Makes sense.

Janie: We always make sense. (in my dreams!) We’re your parents.

Elder Son: That sucks, Mom. You should just tell us.

Janie: Okay. We’re getting y’all tickets to Wayne Newton.

Elder Son: Shut up!

Janie: Okay, how about Tony Bennett?

Elder Son: I’d rather see Tony Bennett than Wayne Newton, I promise!

Janie: You don’t wanna go see the king of Botox?

Elder Son: Kenny Rogers is the king of Botox, Mom.

Janie: No, son. Kenny Rogers had a facelift and jacked his face and they had to redo it.

Elder Son: Not going to tell me, are you, Mom?

Janie: Nope.

Elder Son: arrrrrrrrrrrgh!

They're never too old for this kind of stuff, I swear.

Fun, this.

Sunday Follies

Though we had a late night Saturday night, we were up and at ‘em on Sunday morning. We met a customer and his wife at Cabela’s at 10 a.m. He’s buying her a new shotgun (her first!) for Christmas, and they needed my advice on fitting her with the right gun. We had a good time – it will be fun when she starts shooting sporting clays!

We left, and went to Uncle Julio’s for lunch. ThatManILove is missing his Mexican Food, so we indulged. He was so funny – he ordered three different things – just so he could taste everything. You don’t realize what a staple Tex-Mex food is until you’re away from it for an extended period of time!

We had a couple of hours before he was due at the airport, so we decided to go work on the Christmas presents for Elder Son and Younger Son. I can’t talk about what either of them are getting for Christmas in this blog, because Elder Son has a friend who is a faithful reader. (Hey, Booth! I miss seeing you, dude!) Elder Son says that Booth calls Elder Son from time to time and tells him, “Hey, bud, you made the blog again!”

We headed to the airport. I’m not paying attention to the signs, thinking MLH will. He doesn’t. So we enter the maze that is DFW Airport, looking for Continental. We go to Terminal A. Then, Terminal B. (Can you imagine how we looked from the air? What stupid idiots! It would have been better to leave the terminal, start over, and come back in and read the signs. Seriously.) DFW is designed like a bunch of cloverleafs, and it's a mess. Okay, we’ll try Terminal C. ThatManILove is getting more than a little antsy…it’s 3:30 and his flight leaves at 4:35 and “Jane, you know how picky Crapinental is!”. Oh, yeah, baby. I know ALL about Crapinental.

Finally, we see the sign. It’s Terminal E. Off we go. We get to the departure drop-off, and park. I get out, and start helping him unload his stuff. We hug, and kiss, then I go through the checklist.

Janie: Got your phone?

MLH: Yep.

Janie: Computer? Your wallet?

MLH: Jane. C'mon. (and then) Yep. Oh. Wait. My wallet? Oh, no! Where is it?

Do I know my man, or what? The frantic tearing through the bags and truck begins. I call Uncle Julio’s to see if we’ve left it. I call the other stores. No go. The clock is t.i.c.k.i.n.g. seriously.

Finally, amongst many curse words, he finds his wallet, underneath the passenger seat.

Rerun. We hug, kiss, and he goes up the escalator into the airport. I pull into parking just to make sure he gets through – 30 minutes is usually the cutoff for Crapinental. MLH calls me ten minutes later, to tell me he made it through security. It’s now 4:05 p.m.

I start breathing again, and head west into the right into my eyes afternoon sun for the 5 ½ hr drive home to Midland.

It’s never boring around here!

Meet Vodka Mom!

It is snowing up here in Pennsylvania! And before I forget, JillJillBoBill wins the at this moment undisclosed prize from Pennsylvania for guessing correctly the mystery blogger.

Mystery Blogger from Pennsylvania happens to be Vodka Mom! We tried to meet for 3 days, unsuccessfully, due to my husband’s work. She was very, very patient with her soon to be oilfield buddies! But finally, yesterday, ThatManILove and I came down from the wellsite early and were able to go to State College and meet Vodka Mom! We had a drink at Outback, and visited, and had a simply marvelous time. Vodka Mom is so funny, we all just hit it off immediately. She flipped out her wallet photos, and her kiddos are beautiful. Mr. Vodka was at the hunting lease, so we’ll have to meet him next time. And the Golden Child, her youngest, was wearing out Vodka Mom's cell phone. It was precious. I can't wait to meet them all!

And as you can see by this picture, Vodka Mom really does drink cranberry with her vodka! Isn’t she beautiful? (I’m the large tall one with the rained on hair. She’s the tiny compact going to the gym perfect hair little one. Heifer*.) And me? What is that in my hand? Why, that’s a freakin’ Shirley Temple. I promise it is. Okay, I lied, it’s the “Wallaby Darned”, otherwise known as the Peach Bellini. And I liked it wayyyyy too much. Until it gave me brain freeze. But, yeah. Good stuff, this meeting. Good stuff, I say. And the best thing is that if ThatManILove has to stay in the PA much longer, he has found himself a new adopted family.

And Jilly? Next weekend, girlfriend. I’ll be in Dallas. Sunday morning brunch somewhere, husbands included – Trulucks, maybe? Not your house, I know, you’re all cooked up. But somewhere, somehow, somewhen (is that a word?) we will meet.

*Vodka Mom knows that "heifer" is a term of endearment. So don't y'all be going and getting your panties in a wad on her behalf, ya hear?