8.30.2006
Work over the weekend.
We took some great pictures on Easter and I so wanted to scrap them. I think they turned out great. I love the totem pole. Wish my hair weren't so gigantic!
My cool new bike
I must say, it is 'da-bomb' and weighs 18 pounds, which is very light for a bike!
I love it. I have ridden everyday but today!
Patience
I am struggling with this word and the actions required to achieve it. I want to sell our condo. NOW! I know, we need to finish working on it, but I just want it gone and away. I wish we'd kicked my bils out earlier, but that wouldn't have been kind. Maybe not kind, but I could be out from under that thing. We bought it to help them out and have received little to no help from them to fix it up so we can sell. Gotta love that.
I am sad by the lack of brotherly assistance we have been receiving. I guess the All For One and One For All motif does not carry over into the new millennium and into the hearts of American boys. Sad.
I am sad by the lack of brotherly assistance we have been receiving. I guess the All For One and One For All motif does not carry over into the new millennium and into the hearts of American boys. Sad.
8.29.2006
Remiss
I know, I know I have been remiss and the last posts are blah.
I am still blah, but.... FOOTBALL season begins this weekend, so I will feel much better soon.
But, what about us? Well, crazy is a small word to describe my world. I have changed jobs officially. DH is changing jobs in a few weeks. Anna is in public school, shocking to us, I must say. She loves her teacher but still is struggling on the attitude and mouthy-side side. Sam is Sam Cole and that says it all! He is no longer SamBoy, I guess that is a good move.
We are biking each evening. DH got me a lovely new bike... it kicks a$$. He is jealous and may get something similar. Sam is almost too big for his bike but we hope to stretch is until Christmas. We raised the seat and handlebars last night. I have never seen such short little legs go so fast as watching Sam pedal. He is amazing with that little bike. Anna is also riding faster and faster. I so enjoy watching them grow.
As an aside, my dad had knee replacement surgery yesterday and is doing well.
I am still blah, but.... FOOTBALL season begins this weekend, so I will feel much better soon.
But, what about us? Well, crazy is a small word to describe my world. I have changed jobs officially. DH is changing jobs in a few weeks. Anna is in public school, shocking to us, I must say. She loves her teacher but still is struggling on the attitude and mouthy-side side. Sam is Sam Cole and that says it all! He is no longer SamBoy, I guess that is a good move.
We are biking each evening. DH got me a lovely new bike... it kicks a$$. He is jealous and may get something similar. Sam is almost too big for his bike but we hope to stretch is until Christmas. We raised the seat and handlebars last night. I have never seen such short little legs go so fast as watching Sam pedal. He is amazing with that little bike. Anna is also riding faster and faster. I so enjoy watching them grow.
As an aside, my dad had knee replacement surgery yesterday and is doing well.
8.09.2006
FAT
It is such a mean word. I don't like it. I am that word. Or is that word me? I dislike this word because of me or that I am the word? I know, makes no sense. But, so does the fact that I can so lose weight but can't seem to quit eating. I even eat alot of healthy stuff but too much of anything(except celery) is a bad thing.
I have a nutritionist. She is awesome, amazing and wonderful. But, I am not losing. It is not her fault, it is my own. I am angry at me.
I need to exercise more. Excuses are the key to this failure. I have the best. Laundry, kids, dark, hot.... you name it.
When will I worry more about my health that the issue of the moment. I need to walk, to move.... to something.
I have a nutritionist. She is awesome, amazing and wonderful. But, I am not losing. It is not her fault, it is my own. I am angry at me.
I need to exercise more. Excuses are the key to this failure. I have the best. Laundry, kids, dark, hot.... you name it.
When will I worry more about my health that the issue of the moment. I need to walk, to move.... to something.
8.07.2006
Who else I might have been: Sunday Scribblings
What if I had been born in a different country to different parents….
I have a strong imagine in my mind of a young boy, maybe five or six, the same age as I when I saw him.
I was driving by with my parents in the car on the way to a family friend’s house in Rabat. I was sitting behind my dad in the back seat of the old jeep, can you call that little thing a seat? We were past the bazaar and in an older part of the city, Omar lived there.
I don’t know why we were going only I remember being so excited to sit on the floor and eat with my hands.
The lamb and couscous were delectable, but the image of the boy is stronger, sharper, more poignant, utterly surreal for a 5 year old girl from the US; a boy dressed in a small dirty Arab outfit, no covering for his head, no cup, no plate by him to satisfy him, no emotion on his face, save hunger and acceptance. Hunger not simply for food and drink but life, love, acceptance of him and his worth have meaning and quality.
A smallish boy with eyes so old, I still have not seen similar in my mirror. I don’t look for those eyes, afraid I will find them. Knowing if I do, I am lost; lost not only for the moment but to society, friends, family, and all that is human.
The sun was high, not noon but still scorching in the Moroccan summer, as it is wont to be. I was in the jeep, with the top up but the sides are open to catch the breezes, I wonder if there was a Beach Boys song on the 8-track, or simply I have put one there in my rememberings. So in appropriate, yet, Hotel California is a place in which you can never leave once you enter, so perhaps more meaningful now that I know more of the meaning of the lyrics.
I remember it was hot and the smell of the bazaar was pungent, sweet, sweat and refuse mixed together, heavy in the steamy afternoon. I had sweat on my back although protected from the high sun and the beating it was pounding on the earth and the boy.
I wear clean clothes, drink clean water, have food to eat (too much) and have family, friends, purpose, drive, ambition, life. He was alone, utterly and completely. When our eyes met and held for a moment or two, as I turned, leaned out and watched him as he followed my progress down the street - he was not alone. Not then and never again.
We did not stop; I doubt my parents even saw him, the waif and unwanted.
There is much of that in all countries, not simply third world, I know it is here, too. But he, this boy has been branded upon me. I pray for him often, although I doubt he is of this earth any longer, I pray he is a happy adult with a lovely wife, children, home, food, water, and clean clothes. But, I feel in my soul he is not here. I believe he stays with me and helps me in some deep and unknown way.
This one boy, sitting alone and unwanted was not alone after that moment, he is with me. I don’t remember details of yesterday but I can see his dirty face and dark skin, the tear stained cheeks. He had more dirt on the right hand side of his face and on his clothes, like he had been cast to the ground and landed on that side.
He had made no effort to wipe himself off; he sat alone and chained to his door.
I have a strong imagine in my mind of a young boy, maybe five or six, the same age as I when I saw him.
I was driving by with my parents in the car on the way to a family friend’s house in Rabat. I was sitting behind my dad in the back seat of the old jeep, can you call that little thing a seat? We were past the bazaar and in an older part of the city, Omar lived there.
I don’t know why we were going only I remember being so excited to sit on the floor and eat with my hands.
The lamb and couscous were delectable, but the image of the boy is stronger, sharper, more poignant, utterly surreal for a 5 year old girl from the US; a boy dressed in a small dirty Arab outfit, no covering for his head, no cup, no plate by him to satisfy him, no emotion on his face, save hunger and acceptance. Hunger not simply for food and drink but life, love, acceptance of him and his worth have meaning and quality.
A smallish boy with eyes so old, I still have not seen similar in my mirror. I don’t look for those eyes, afraid I will find them. Knowing if I do, I am lost; lost not only for the moment but to society, friends, family, and all that is human.
The sun was high, not noon but still scorching in the Moroccan summer, as it is wont to be. I was in the jeep, with the top up but the sides are open to catch the breezes, I wonder if there was a Beach Boys song on the 8-track, or simply I have put one there in my rememberings. So in appropriate, yet, Hotel California is a place in which you can never leave once you enter, so perhaps more meaningful now that I know more of the meaning of the lyrics.
I remember it was hot and the smell of the bazaar was pungent, sweet, sweat and refuse mixed together, heavy in the steamy afternoon. I had sweat on my back although protected from the high sun and the beating it was pounding on the earth and the boy.
I wear clean clothes, drink clean water, have food to eat (too much) and have family, friends, purpose, drive, ambition, life. He was alone, utterly and completely. When our eyes met and held for a moment or two, as I turned, leaned out and watched him as he followed my progress down the street - he was not alone. Not then and never again.
We did not stop; I doubt my parents even saw him, the waif and unwanted.
There is much of that in all countries, not simply third world, I know it is here, too. But he, this boy has been branded upon me. I pray for him often, although I doubt he is of this earth any longer, I pray he is a happy adult with a lovely wife, children, home, food, water, and clean clothes. But, I feel in my soul he is not here. I believe he stays with me and helps me in some deep and unknown way.
This one boy, sitting alone and unwanted was not alone after that moment, he is with me. I don’t remember details of yesterday but I can see his dirty face and dark skin, the tear stained cheeks. He had more dirt on the right hand side of his face and on his clothes, like he had been cast to the ground and landed on that side.
He had made no effort to wipe himself off; he sat alone and chained to his door.
Just us girls
OK, I know it is an awful picture, but I like the randomness of it... I think it fits us well
Laura and I at the bats:
Laura and Casey on the way to dessert at Manny Hattan's, all you need to know is The Carnegie Deli Cheesecake with Topped w/ Fruit Strawberry or Blueberry (get it on the side and get both) and Chocolate Fudge Layer Cake. Just yummy!
And us, after dessert and 15 pound heavier but happy, very, very happy:
Thank you girls, I had a wonderful time and can't wait to see you both again. Sooner this next time!
Laura and I at the bats:
Laura and Casey on the way to dessert at Manny Hattan's, all you need to know is The Carnegie Deli Cheesecake with Topped w/ Fruit Strawberry or Blueberry (get it on the side and get both) and Chocolate Fudge Layer Cake. Just yummy!
And us, after dessert and 15 pound heavier but happy, very, very happy:
Thank you girls, I had a wonderful time and can't wait to see you both again. Sooner this next time!
Austin City Limits
No, I didn't go to a show, but I had a fabulous time in Austin!
I stayed with Laura and loved the new house! We went to Threadgills for dinner and then down to see the bats.
My only decent bat picture:
Some random bat facts:
*The bats provide a valuable service to the Austin community by consuming between 10,000 to 30,000 pounds of insects nightly! There was no mosquito in site, I loved that!
*Bats can live to be 30 years old.
*Mother bats give birth to a single pup each year. The pups birth weight is nearly 1/3 that of its mother.
*Bats are mammals and nurse the pups from mammary glands. Each female recognizes her pups voice and smell and will nurse only her pup.
*During migrations to Mexico and back, bats may reach an altitude of 10,000 feet and velocities of 60 miles per hour.
I would LOVE to live there. I was even offered a desk from some of the big-wigs there. How is that for AWESOME!
The Grand Opening was fun. I have a couple of shots from there:
This is me and Abby Grace - isnt' she a dream. She worse a little classic pooh dress:
Here is Laura, not so sure about the Abby Grace thing....
We had ice cream at Amy's, can you say AWESOME!
Davis shows it best:
I stayed with Laura and loved the new house! We went to Threadgills for dinner and then down to see the bats.
My only decent bat picture:
Some random bat facts:
*The bats provide a valuable service to the Austin community by consuming between 10,000 to 30,000 pounds of insects nightly! There was no mosquito in site, I loved that!
*Bats can live to be 30 years old.
*Mother bats give birth to a single pup each year. The pups birth weight is nearly 1/3 that of its mother.
*Bats are mammals and nurse the pups from mammary glands. Each female recognizes her pups voice and smell and will nurse only her pup.
*During migrations to Mexico and back, bats may reach an altitude of 10,000 feet and velocities of 60 miles per hour.
I would LOVE to live there. I was even offered a desk from some of the big-wigs there. How is that for AWESOME!
The Grand Opening was fun. I have a couple of shots from there:
This is me and Abby Grace - isnt' she a dream. She worse a little classic pooh dress:
Here is Laura, not so sure about the Abby Grace thing....
We had ice cream at Amy's, can you say AWESOME!
Davis shows it best:
8.04.2006
Going Back to Austin
Heading to Austin for the weekend to work at a Grand Opening and visit some of the mommies..... I have met Laura and am so excited to see her again. Also, get to actually and finally meet Casey. Almost hate that I have to work in the middle of all that, but it is the reason I am flying over.
Leaving for the airpport soon. I have and will be running some serious roads: New Orleans yeterday for training, back to NO to fly out to Austin today, Virginia in two weeks for a few days and then Dallas for a day. And all for work.
I really need to drive over to ATL, perhaps next month.
Leaving for the airpport soon. I have and will be running some serious roads: New Orleans yeterday for training, back to NO to fly out to Austin today, Virginia in two weeks for a few days and then Dallas for a day. And all for work.
I really need to drive over to ATL, perhaps next month.
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