Today I picked up the book A Million Miles in a Thousand Years by Donald Miller. I knew nothing about it but saw a recommendation somewhere a while back, and put a hold on it with the library. Afterwards, I promptly forgot about it. When they called to let me know it was ready for pickup, it was sort of like a little unexpected surprise present came in the mail.

While I waited for my daughter to get out of school, I spread out my blanket (which I always keep in the back of my car for this exact reason), grabbed my water bottle and laid down to read under the huge old oak tree. I got about three chapters in, and I have nothing but praise for the book so far.

It was at this point that giant black ants started jumping kanakazi style out of that big old oak tree I am so fond of. They landed on my book, on my blanket, on.my.person.

There was flailing. And I’m pretty sure also lots of judgment from the smart moms who read their books in the safe confine of the inside of their car with the air conditioning ON!

Decidedly not book smart, but obviously very punny. Yea, I went there.

Most recent f-up: I thought we were supposed to go to Madison this past weekend for an Ultimate Frisbee tournament that my son’s high school team is participating in. It wasn’t until Wednesday that it finally clicked in my head that the date of the tournament and the date of the weekend WE planned to go weren’t the same. I immediately called my husband in a panic to have the hotel reservations changed (which was met with some “raised voice” response which ordinary people refer to as YELLING, and a moderate amount of swearing, and in my modest opinion, a rather accusatory line of questioning about how this happened). I understand that reservations made through Priceline are non refundable and non negotiable. Bummer. Two minutes later I got a callback (with no yelling at all) to tell me that the reservations were actually made for the correct weekend, which would have been the incorrect weekend if anyone had been listening to me in the first place. It was absent an apology. Somehow everything righted itself in a completely wack comedy of errors. Needless to say, we’re going to Madison this coming weekend and we will have a place to stay.

My husband has reserved two lenses for my big-girl camera for the weekend, as well! Really, he made a reservation for last weekend, but they have gracefully allowed for a date change, since he didn’t reserve them through Priceline. I haven’t seen them, but I believe he got me a zoom lens (70-200mm) and also a fish eye lens (8-15mm). I’m told the fish eye can take a 180 degree shot at 8mm. We plan on having fun playing with that one, for sure.

First though, we have to get through this week. The little one is hoping to have a new cast for the weekend, maybe below the elbow if she’s truly lucky. The boy has some ACT prep testing, a free day anticipated to be filled with golf (sounds rough, right?), and some tough Ultimate games in Naperville on Thursday . The hubby and I have to work like jerks, as usual. Plus packing. Mini dog is joining us, not like she’d be any help watching over the house anyhow.

I have to hire out for EVERYTHING!

In addition to that, the whole loss-of-the-friend thing has me thinking about stuff. You know, the norm. What is left to show if something horrible were to happen to me (God forbid)? Would there be anything of note that I’ve said or done? Obviously, there’s my children… but I mean FOR them, not OF them.

Anyhow, I don’t mean to be all dark and tragic, but this is what people think about (in middle age) when they’ve gone through life feeling as though they never defined a purpose for themselves. Could it all be changed? Absolutely! Especially if I miraculously come up with my grand purpose unexpectedly this afternoon.

I don’t anticipate that happening while I surf the internets, but stranger things have probably happened. Maybe. I should probably fetch my guitar instead.

I had met her a few times, my husband knew her well. Most recently we saw her at Christmas. She was an artist and my husband and I had plans to buy one of her original works this summer. We were both looking forward to it.

For not knowing her all that well, it is really striking me that she is gone, and I can’t stop thinking about her. She had just left her daughter, after spending lunch with her for her 10th (golden) birthday. NOT THAT THIS IS ABOUT ME IN ANY WAY, but it’s frightening, really, to realize that she and I were engaging in nearly identical activities only one day apart. I’m sure she had the same carefree happy feelings about her day as I did when I left the school on my daughter’s birthday.

I feel so much sadness for her family and friends, and it is startling to me, seeing how easily it could be any one of us.

This one’s brave. She opted for the I.V. rather than the mask. She scoffed when they asked if she was nervous. She laughed and joked about her doctor accidentally letting her slip off the bed while in the procedure.

She’s all done, and that arm looks straight as an arrow.

I can’t wait until they let us in to recovery, because I’m not nearly as strong.

Two things happened on Sunday.

First, I killed my ginger bug. I mean killed it dead. No more fizz, no more bubbles, no sign of life at all. I was not pleased. Rather than make soda after the tournament ended on Sunday, I had to dump the bug out and start over.

But first….

My littlest kid done broke herself. As I was readying to make some tea for kombucha and mourning the loss of the ginger bug, she came in holding her arm funny. I knew immediately, and within the hour it was confirmed. She was scraped up and bloodied and also broken in her arm and a wee little toe. The urgent care center sent us home with some Tylenol- Codein prescription and a CD containing her images for the orthopedic we had to arrange on Monday. I spent the evening wiping tears and administering what seemed to be a foul tasting but useless medication, fetching water, changing out cold packs, and helping a very restless and unhappy pumpkin up and down from her couch-bed. I was also designated Muppet Show pauser for bathroom breaks.

Today we found out that the break will have to be reset on Wednesday while under general anesthesia.  I don’t know if I’m relieved or upset.  On the one hand, I know it’s excruciating to set this bone in particular, because I watched them do it to my son when he was around 7 years old and actually said aloud that I never want to have to go through that again.  It was horrific!  On the other hand, my poor little baby has a broken arm for another two nights and a day.

Today is day #1 of spring break.

This past week I have been drinking mostly GT’s Enlightened.  I was trying to conserve.  I had a bottle of home brew on Monday when I was at home sick, and one today.  On Tuesday morning I felt so good that I thought I had acquired the only four day cold known to man.  Of course, when I went to work Tuesday and sat in the recycled air for a few hours I changed my tune.  Tuesday and Wednesday I had GT’s Enlightened at work and felt pretty unwell.  Today I woke up feeling crappy and off.  When I left for work I forgot my ginger water with lemon, forgot most of the food I normally bring to eat for breakfast, and forgot my kombucha.  When I got home I drank a bottle of my own tea.  I feel better this evening than I have all week since Tuesday morning.  I think this stuff is powerful.  Tomorrow I am taking a bottle with me to work.  We shall see the effect of the canned air on my well being while on the juice!

What else am I doing?  Taking elderberry religiously.  Sniffing a Vicks stick, taking my vitamins, drinking plenty of water.  Snorting and gargling salted water and blowing my nose every three minutes.  Eating well.  I know it’s gross, but I also spit stuff out that comes out of my throat.  I know it’s TMI, but my grandma always always insisted that I never ever swallow sick.  So I don’t.

Did I ever tell the most disgusting story that I’ve got?

I was driving my Jeep in the summer with the top down and the doors off back in the day.  Someone in a car in front of me spit out of their window, and the aerodynamics of the cars and the wind carried it around my windshield.  I had sunglasses on and it went inside my glasses In. My. Eye.  Semi solid.  I almost caused an accident with my complete and total freak out.  I’m pretty sure that I had Suicidal Tendencies playing in the cassette player (it was stuck in the player on constant replay for a year or so) and I may have actually had suicidal tendencies at that moment.  Or rather, murderous.  I almost hurled.

So now you can rest easy that any other story I tell you will be tolerable, because you made it through that one.  Good on you!

Oh crap, I just realized that the kombucha/illness experiment results will be skewed tomorrow because it’s jeans day.  On account that jeans make everything better.

I hope you’re all wearing jeans.

Sorry for the loogie story.

Thanking God there are no pictures, aren’t you?

As I mentioned, I’ve actually been taking care of my nails and painting them and such lately. Let it be known that this will be the VERY LAST TIME I let my husband have a say in the color selection. I’m more a black, brown, navy kinda girl. Yes, I know I did a crap job of painting them as well, but in my defense I knew this color wasn’t gonna be around long, and it was a working weekend, so I pretty much slapped it on. Sue me.

In other news, today the Blueberry goes back to the shop. Saturday morning as I was driving my family around, my husband looked over and said “what’s up with your tachometer?”. I’m not fooled, he was probably trying to check my speed (but I’ll let it slide this one time). Regardless, the tach is dead, as in 0 RPM at all times. Needless to say I was not pleased, as displayed by my string of curses a mile long. My husband wisely handled the call to the dealership to protect them from my wrath.

He will not be with me when I bring it in. I’m just sayin’.

Not recently.

The medical center where I had my million blood tests told me that they had finally gotten my billing straightened out last month, and that the duplicate charge on my invoice would be removed. I found when my new invoice came this weekend, that statement wasn’t true. Today they told me that they never said that, anyhow. I’ve been working on this since last November and thought that I would finally be able to get these charges paid this month and off our plate. Apparently it could be another sixty days.

Last week I brought my car in to be repaired, because the interior lock buttons stopped working intermittently. When I pulled into the bay, the locks weren’t working, and I was able to demonstrate the problem for the technician writing up my repair order. I specifically told him that I didn’t want to be called to pick up the car because they couldn’t recreate the problem and I wanted him to make note that he witnessed it and then get it right into a bay to be diagnosed. They’ve been calling me every day since trying to get me to pick up my car because they “can’t recreate the problem.”

After 13 years, the brokerage firm holding the UTMA account for my son’s college funding has started charging us a $50 fee for “account maintenance.” There is no activity, no advice or council necessary, and the amount exceeds the minimum balance for fees at most firms. They refuse to waive the fee and were unfazed by the threat of losing the account.

After sneaking in our yard when they knew we wouldn’t be home, and avoiding the reporter who wanted to tag along for the inspection, the Village phoned my husband at work today to tell him that we would be getting a letter. There is a two phase project in the works for our area which includes a reroute of the water overflow (tearing up the streets to route less water to the creek in our backyard), and securing a permit from the Army Corp of Engineers for easement repair (where the creek runs). Of course he made all sorts of threatening comments about felling trees and messing with our private property on either side of the creek. Oh, and these projects won’t happen for many years… but they have no intention of doing anything to fix the excessive erosion in our yard. The good news is, we’re welcome to do whatever we want to stop it ourselves. Virtually flipping you off right now, Village Manager.

I thought things only go bad in threes.

Go and use the internets and find thee a recipe for glazed ox tail and make it. You will not be sorry.

**Except when trying to separate the meat from the fat. But that only lasts for like 30 minutes…. 45 tops.**

Today it was almost 60 degrees in the northwest suburbs of Chicago. I was lucky enough to wade through our creek and backyard to document our easement situation. Now I’m no attorney, but I think that when a creek running through an easement causes this kind of erosion to adjacent private property that maybe said easement owner might have to take some responsibility. Behold:

No, we did not build the fence over a hole originally.

Hubby claims he’s going to do something to rectify the situation this year.

So I put on the waders and walked in the water on this fine day to document the losses. They’re pretty bad, and getting worse every rainfall, every snow melt, every time you so much as look at the damned creek or the wind blows. The Village better step up is all I’m saying.

As you can see, the Great Wall of Z is holding up moderately well.  We had to seal between the beams to stop the alarming loss of soil from behind, which is literally all that is preventing the rest of the fence to remain in the ground.  Just barely.  I’m sure the Village will find some way to use it against us.

We are hamsters on a wheel with this nonsense.  Every year, come spring, the easement and creek remind us of how much they suck.

A LOT.  The answer is A LOT.