I just finished two books and I am trying to figure out why one took me two weeks to read and the other two days. Yes the one was slightly longer than the other, but I can't remember the last time it took me two weeks to read a book. Wait - I take that back. It was one of the Bronte novels whose title escapes me because it was a classic I never got around to reading before. I enjoyed the novel. I think it rhythm of the prose that took me so long. I don't know. Maybe there is something about the meter of speech from the 1800s or even the early 1900s that slows me up. In a way that is good, like savoring the taste of a new food and trying to decide if you like it or not.

Incidentally, I typically hate "the classics". I'm not too terribly fond of award winners either. I guess my beat comes from a different drummer. I did like "Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of Nimh." But if someone offered me money to reread "Sister Carrie" I think I'd rather be driven over by a bus. In fact, I remember wishing a bus would run over her. I guess that would have been a hackney or hansom (sp?) cab back then, but you get the point.

Anyway, novel A was a mystery. I like mysteries. I inherited that from my dad. I think he at one time owned every Sherlock Holmes and Agatha Christie novel in paperback. This novel was by a reputable author with several other novels in print. Maybe it was because of the odd mood I've been in of late. Maybe there were too many characters and I couldn't keep them straight in my head. I hate that when that happens. Even as late as 50 pages to go in the novel, I had to flip back and figure out who the protagonist was because I kept confusing her name with that of a secondary character.

Now the second novel was a romance, also by a reputable author. It had far less characters to keep straight. There was a bit of a mystery that I saw coming a mile away, but I am one of those insatiable people who has to know if the hunch is right (I was). The hero was a little too good to be true, hardly any growth other than "hey, I think I just fell in love." But then again, I've always been a bit of a sucker for those knights in shining armor.

I did like both books. I just thought it was odd that one took me so much longer to read than the other.

I think I need another run to the library. I have a feeling I'll be wanting the escapism this week. Sunday I found out that my uncle was in the hospital. Normally I call my folks on the weekend, but I got sidetracked. The more I thought about my uncle, the more concerned I got, but I tried to shake it off. I mean, if it was serious, someone would have called, right?

I called my folks last night. My uncle is not good. Basically a lifetime of vices and weaknesses have caught up with him. I'd like to say we were close. He is my godfather, but he moved out to Delaware when I was little and I really haven't seen him very often. The last time I saw him was at my wedding four years ago. And yet I really feel smacked upside the head about this. Even over the phone, I could tell my parents were beginning to grieve, and I felt myself beginning to do so too.

DH and I talked about this some last night. Unfortunately, we are reaching a stage in our lives where the death of aunts and uncles is probable and in some cases, a waiting game. I'm just afraid I am not ready for this particular stage of life. Maybe I'm afraid that it will be a domino effect. Then there are our own parents to consider and I don't want to even consider it. It doesn't help matters that the last time I saw my folks they sat me down and told me some of the updated details of their will (on the lighter side of things, my sisters and I were going to sent to live with some divorced relatives - DH thought that was hilarious since we are all nearly all over age 30 and the relatives had about the ugliest divorce ever).

For everything there is a season, right?

My Super-Secret Decoder Ring Came In The Mail ...

I used to be really good at keeping secrets. Ok, it was mainly because I have a short attention span and would forget things almost instantly, but it was still a point of pride with me that I could be depended upon to keep a really good secret.

Then I met all my on-line friends, my beloved on-line confessors, and suddenly it took more willpower to keep my yapper shut than to pass on slice of oreo cheesecake.

But I did it. I kept a secret for almost two weeks - until it was time for the secret to be revealed. *Sniff* I am so proud of myself.

I belong to this great group of readers, writers and Jennifer Cruise fans called the Cherry Bombs. One of our horde, Bryan, had the honor of having one of his prints being selected for a juried art show in Bloomington. Very cool and a big deal. I received an email from CMS (aka Sheryl) saying hey, she and Me (aka Karen) were coming in town to support Bryan and did I want to join them. Since I only live about two hours away from where the art show was being held, I was all in.

Oh, I have to mention this. CMS came all the way from Ontario, Canada and Me from near Detriot, MI. These ladies are into some serious road trips.

DH and I took half a day off work and headed off to Bloomington. We traveled about 30 minutes before we were overcome with hunger and decided we couldn't drive another mile without eating. Yes, I know. We should plan our mealtimes ahead, especially on a roadtrip with a timetable. We ended up at Arni's, a local restraurant that thrives on pizza and stromboli. I didn't used to like thin crust on my pizza. Arni's helped widen my horizons, not to mention my pant size.

Stop me if you've heard this one before: "Honey, I know a short cut ..."

Ugh. I know, I know. I even looked at it on a map myself. It did look shorter, more scenic too. I am starting to realize the word "scenic" is another word for "school bus route from hell." I don't even think there were kids living in those houses. Maybe the bus drivers was looking for Oprah updates, or were in need of Dr. Phil.

So on we went to Bloomington. I received my Bachelors degree from Indiana University - Bloomington, so I was really looking forward to the trip. Spending four years there, certain things stick in your mind. Unfortunately, that doesn't stop the city from moving the streets around on you. One way streets were now either two way or going in the opposite direction. Some streets were renamed and rerouted just to mess with me, I think. It was a minor miracle that we ever found the university, considering we had no idea what side of town we ended up on. Familiar landmarks turned out to be mirages in the sand, unless Bloomington suffered an unprecidented seismic eruption that rearranged the town.

Luckily I managed to find the Optometry building where I knew there was a parking garage and the building we needed was close by. Sure, I had to circle the block twice to get there, but this was progress. Now we were only running about 30 minutes late for the art show. According to my map, we were close. So close!

One thing about progress. There always seems to be construction somewhere. As we navigated our way through a jungle of orange construction fences, I called CMS to let her know we were close. She said she'd meet us outside by the steps. Yay! I was moments away from meeting my first CB!

Somehow we ended up on the wrong side of the building and had to hike up three flights of stairs to get in. Luckily, the stairs we needed to meet CMS were directily opposite the doors we came in instead of off some odd angle of the building like some are. We spied CMS. So here we come, Weezie and Woozie (DH and I were both sporting lovely colds), panting our way through an explanation of why we were coming from inside the building.

We made brief introductions and headed back inside. The art show consisted of a room about the size of my living room plus the hallway. And there were about 200 people crammed inside, bringing the temperature up to about 90 degrees in the hallway. DH hardly sweats, but that is OK because I was doing enough of that for the both of us. Not the first impression I wanted to make, but what can you do?

Finally we tracked down Bryan and Me. Bryan seemed a bit shell shocked but I wasn't sure if it was because of the surprise CBs or the whole art show gig, but he was rolling with it. That was fine, because I felt incredibly short. Within moments we were all laughing and chatting like old friends.

Now the art show was part of the Kinsey Institute and was an exhibition of erotic artwork. I didn't bother trying to explain this detail to my family. I was there to support Bryan and his tastefully elegant print. There were several equally tasteful artworks (Bryan's was the best, of course), but there are always the OTHERS.

Not to be confused with the OTHERS from the TV show "Lost" (although that may explain a few things), the OTHERS represents those works that either make you say, "Well, it's art," or "It's avant garde," or even "What the hell is that?" (DH, to his credit did not utter the latter once all day long. I am very proud of him.) The winning work fell into that abstract category. I swear, if I saw a little clown fish swimming next to it, I never would have thought twice about it. Maybe it was a series of sweat glands or whatever makes pheromones. Or balloon animals that went horribly awry. As for the other works, I'm not sure I'll look at mosaics, tissue holders or banks ever the same again. Hey, that's art. There is something for everybody. I just thank Bob Bryan's work was something you could identify what it was. I don't know that I could have handled it showing up blind and find a friend's entry listed as "Erotic Boogers on a Plate." Not that there is anything wrong with that -- wait. Yes, there is A LOT wrong with that, but I won't go there.

After the show, Me, Bryan and CMS showed me Philosopher's Walk. It was rather disappointing. It was three feet long. Maybe it used to be longer and erosion got to it. The campus environmental crusaders better get on that. What kind of ideas can you possibly get in three feet of walk? "I think I never shall see; a vision as lovely as a ... dang kamakaze squirrels!"

We met back up at Chili's, a bar and grill in honor of the CBs. I didn't get lost on the way there. I had a moment where I couldn't find the car again, but I persevered. Well, ok, it was the parking garage with the car inside it. Me valiantly demonstrated the dangers of trying to shoot a margarita up one's nose. I pondered the possibilites of changing my on-line name to "you." To go with Me. People would say, "You know," and I'd reply, "Why, yes I do." I'd also know what "You" did last night and who "You" were with last night." In fact, I'd know what "You" are doing right now. The possibilities are endless.

We also decided that some of the sobriety tests at checkpoints are simply made up by the officers in order to pass the time on a long night. And if you break into the macarena you just might be arrested anyway for being a danger to society.

It was a great night. They were all very funny and very nice. And no one said anything when my mascara gave up the ghost and gave me wild raccoon eyes from laughing so hard. (Yes, it was waterproof mascara - trust me, it's an ongoing problem).

So to Sheryl, Bryan and Karen: cheers, my friends. I hope we meet again soon.

You have got to be kidding me ...

Yesterday, we had thunderstorms and tornadoes. Today it's freaking snowing - the big puffy flakes too. A few weeks ago we were all wearing shorts. What's up for tomorrow? All of the above?

Just start calling me the Lady of Perpetual Layers. I have no idea how to dress anymore.

An Ode to Spring

Welcome to amature poetry hour. *ahem*

The sun is shining
The day is aglow
Yet I feel I should be watchful
For what, I do not know.

The early spring flowers are blooming
The trees regain their leaves
It is a special time
Before hornets, wasps and bees.

A spring shower passes
Washing away winter’s grime
The air is fresh, the temps are warm
All looks new, like a shiny new dime.

I cannot shake the foreboding -
What is that I see?
Red buds by the thousands
Fallen off the trees.

Curse you, red buds!
For I know what is next
My annual pilgrimage to pharmacy
My life savings in Rx.

Oh it starts innocently enough
A sniff, an occasional sneeze
My eyes redden, my nose runs
My cough turns into a wheeze.

Oh, curse you red buds!
You signify the worst
Just as the weather turns nice
My sinuses feel they shall burst.

Only now it isn’t just red buds
The changes have me beat
I don’t know whether to fire up the air conditioner
Or turn up the heat.

My allergies evolved into my annual springtime cold
A freight train that cannot be stopped
There is nothing like feeling miserable
A good time to be had, not.

Curse you, red buds!
We do this every year
From allergies to colds to hacking cough
And keeping Kleenex near.

I called my Mom
My husband made me soup
The thing I hate the most is
Always feeling pooped.

So here I am
Forced to tough it out
Hard when you feel like such a baby
And feel grumpy and want to shout.

Anb so dis is my stoby
Abou ‘ow I gob dis code
I reabby habe dose reb buds
*Sigh* 'aybe I shoub habe my nose.

Meet Your New Neighbors!

Hope everyone had a good Easter. If you don't celebrate Easter, hope you had a good Sunday, or whatever you wish to celebrate.

The laughs never stop at my house. My folks are in town. They have a 100 pound golden retriever named Molly. My dog Trent weighs in a 15 pounds. He's the little brother she never wanted.

I discovered that Molly likes jelly beans. Except when one was dropped in her general direction, she would gulp it up only to promptly spit it back out and look at us sadly. Then Trent would swoop in and snatch it up. Then Molly would go back to looking at us sadly. I swear, they did this a dozen times. Not just jelly beans though. Ham, bread crumbs, doggie breath mints, whatever. Molly would drop it, Trent would eat it, and Molly would just look sad.

We baked a ham and since I am limited for counter space, DH put the roasting pan outside. He went to put in inside our old grill to keep the critters out of it, but when he opened the lid, he was faced with the biggest bird nest I've ever seen. Naturally, there are five little eggs inside. So much for putting the grill out with the trash this week (we just bought a new one).

So now we have to wait until the eggs hatch and the baby birds fly away before getting rid of it. I'm sure it's nice and toasty right now, but I really hope it doesn't get too hot in there once the weather stays warm.

Somehow I've lost any taste for Cornish hens.

Pffbt Part 2

Doesn't it just figure.

My new toy, the DVR, had a "component malfunction" (ie, it would not correctly program TV channels) and we had to take it back.

And the store does not have any more. Not only that, they do not plan to get any more in. The next closest model costs nearly $60 more.

OK then. I'll drive around town on the off-chance that there is still one model left in one of the stores at the price I can afford, but I won't hold my breath.

Well, the toy was fun while it lasted. It'll be a few weeks before we buy another one. At least I got my wedding video taped and DSS's baby video.

In other news, my folks are coming to visit and the temperatures just dropped 30 degrees so we are hovering around freezing again. Maybe we should have all gone to their house for Easter. It's gotta be warm there than it is here.

A Fish Called Wanda ...

.... or Goldy, in this case.

It's kinda hard to have high expectations for a day that starts with a dead goldfish.

I feel bad. I had no idea he was sick. You see, he shares a tank with a sick goldfish named Nugget, who I really expected to have to flush two months ago but is hanging in there. The poor guy can't see and is looking pretty ragged.

Goldy had personality. Ok, Goldy was also a carp. Nothing against carp, but the sucker was 8 inches long and reminiscent of the popcorn eating monsters at Lake Freeman by Indiana Beach. Goldy liked to flick water at DH. Well, I thought it was funny.

*Sigh* Time to break the news of another deceased pet to DSS.

Pfffbt

Well, ok. My new little toy is being ornery, but that's all right. I know I hold the power. Really. Otherwise that little puppy is going back in the box and back to the store.

But I don't think it'll come to that.

The toy is the new DVR I just bought. I taped my stepson's baby videos over the weekend, and I don't think he had ever seen them before. I can't imagine, but growing up, we always looked at our pictures, slides, and scrap books. Yes, my sisters and I know every blackmail picture, its precise location, and who has a copy of it.

The problem with the DVR is that I can't get all my cable channels to program. I'm sure its just a little glitch, but sheesh. I've checked all the plugs several times. I mean, I used to joke that my major in college was programming the VCR. Now I feel old. All my hard-earned technological knowledge is obsolete.

But on the plus side, the picture is crystal clear on channels 1 through 13.

Egads, but I may have to call the customer service number. *gasp*