8/27/15

I guess the bird has to fly away when she's good and ready. (aka Bitchy's big journey is just beginning...)

So Bitchy has been an incredibly responsible woman as of late.

She graduated from Oregon State two years ago with a B.S. in Nutrition and has been working as a Nutritionist for a year for the governmental WIC program.  She travels at least two hours a day to the various clinics, and once a week travels FOUR HOURS a day.She works with a wide variety of clients who are in need of governmental assistance with their infants, and she provides training and advice on breast feeding, nutrition, etc., etc., etc. (And she loves to remind me about what a HORRIBLE mother I was when I only breast fed her for 6 weeks.  I offered to start up again but she vehemently declined.)

She has kept that second job at the high end shoe store in town because the owners loved her so much that they begged her to stay on and work at least one weekend a month.  (Apparently she wasn't bitchy to THEM.)  She has also continued to house sit and pet sit for various folks in the area who have trusted and depended on her when they take their families on adventures. She won't cat sit for ME, of course. 

She has saved every PENNY (Thanks for not paying any rent, utilities or WHAT NOTS for your mother) and has purchased her own car.  She also has more money in her savings account than I EVER HAD.

She’s also had her heart broken every now and then by one young fella (her one true love) who moved across the country to Arizona two years ago.  Long distance relationships are a cruel prank to play on young people, but they don’t always figure that one out on their own. In the meantime she’s remained loyal to her heart and to him and hasn’t even been able to muster the interest to look in any other direction.  (Much to her mother’s dismay.)

Yesterday I was working in my classroom when I received the following text.


“I just gave my two weeks notice.  I am moving to Arizona.”






(I’d like to finish this particular entry, but they are still performing CPR.) 



tbt. 



8/15/15

Just Shut Up and Hold the Lamp....(aka I'm buying my own Mayflower Truck)

It’s been a summer of amazing adventures I’ll give you that.  I’ve been to more places this summer than I’ve been in the last 20 years.  The summer adventure story, however, is for another time. This particular story is a reminder that "The Powers That Be" have decided they’re not quite done with me yet.

Ray and I were on our way home from a short 3-day excursion in Philadelphia to celebrate his birthday. No big deal, just an amazing time eating at Parc, visiting antique shops, taking in the show Memphis at the Walnut Street Theatre and discovering small watering holes near out hotel at Rittenhouse Square. 

We were in the car about an hour from home when my phone rang.  It was a familiar number, but I didn’t have a name attached to it so I couldn’t QUITE remember who it was.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Hi Vodka!  It’s me, Your Principal.  (Let’s call him Mr. InCharge.)  How are you?”
“I’m fine!  Having a great summer! How about you?”

It continued like that for a few minutes, and frankly I was thinking it was just a friendly call.  Although Mr. InCharge doesn’t normally call for no reason, I was just chatting along not thinking anything was up.  First mistake.

“Well,” he said slowly, “I’m sure this was the call you were hoping would never come,”

“WHAT???” I thought to myself, “Am I FIRED???”

He continued, his voice a bit apologetic, “We are looking at our kindergarten numbers, and, well, we only have about 30 children registered at this point.  30.   Total. So…”

“Thirty?” I repeated stupidly.  “Thirty in EACH class?”

“No,” he said slowly again, “Thirty in all.  Total.  So, that means that you will be going to first grade.  I know we have some time until it’s official, but I thought I should at least let you know so that you can prepare yourself for the inevitable.”

Um.

Gulp.

“Well, (insert DEEP SIGH) okay then.  I am going to have to digest this a bit, but... I know...that first grade will be fine. I loved it the two years I was there, but really it’s the moving part that might put me in the loony bin.  Do they give prizes for the person who MOVES THE MOST?  Cause I want that prize to be that I don’t have to move.” 

I THINK he chuckled, but the rest of the conversation is a blur.



The moral of the story?  When you are incredibly happy in some parts of your life, the Powers that Be love to $@*# you up.   (Just for giggles.)




Now send me some @*&^%$ boxes and get your butts over here cause I need some !)!*@&^#% help.  #I’m disausted.



7/29/15

Sometimes a dragon wakes up all on his own. (And that's a @*#&@^ tragedy.)


It’s easy sometimes to fool myself into thinking that all is well in the world.

It’s easy to go about my daily life without a care in the world. It’s easy for all of us to fall into that comfortable routine that keeps us warm in our little cottages, that keeps us wrapped in a bubble of distraction and allows us to forget, even for a little, that life has a crazy way of bringing us to our knees.

He was always a happy, happy kid and an even happier man.  He was my mother’s older sister’s son- and he was the same age as my annoying little brother.  He had a head of almost white blond hair- and gorgeous blue eyes.  He was quick with a smile and a laugh, despite a diagnosis of epilepsy detected when he was in his early teens.   He was an athlete and carried that love of athleticism throughout his adult life. 

He married his college sweetheart in a wedding that included not only his fraternity brothers but also her many sorority sisters.  It was a day full of incredible love and laughter- that appeared to follow them through their journey of life.  The journey was cut short two days ago when Tim lost his battle with that treacherous bastard called cancer.

I’m trying desperately to find the words to honor an incredible husband, father and friend.  I find myself thinking and saying the things that all of us say when an amazing soul is lost but it just doesn’t seem adequate.

He fought many battles in his life, and his mouth always carried a smile and kind words. He strapped on his armor and brandished his swords eight years ago when he was diagnosed with Multiple Myeloma.  He fought an incredible battle with his wife, children and sister at his side. We all believed  he had defeated the dragon.

But we forgot that dragons don’t always die.

We forgot that dragons sometimes have a way of finding the prince, sneaking up on him and piercing him in the heart.

Tim, you will always be the shining, smiling prince who reminded us all that life is to be savored, treasured, lived and enjoyed each and every moment. And while the dragon might think he’s won, we all know the truth.

We know that your honor, integrity, strong faith and moral compass makes you the victor.  I’m sure your father joins my own parents and others who love you in welcoming you to the one place you deserve to be - at the right hand of the Father in a place of everlasting light and love. 



Keep a light burning, we’ll be there shortly.   




#RIPDarlingTim