So, last night, and 11:30pm we're settling in to go to sleep, the dog was racing around looking for a stuffed animal to snuggle, I was rinsing dishes, and Evan was checking the locks on the door.
When the house started to shake. It shook from this incredible noise from the sky. We opened the door, and craned our necks to see what was going on. At first, we didn't see anything, but then, we saw the lights.
Hovering in the sky, and sinking lower, was an enormous helicopter. ENORMOUS. Gianormous, even.
The neighbors started to venture outside. The family on the corner stood on their front lawn in robes and slippers, we stood with our faces to the sky watching the giant 'copter, lights went on all down the block, and front doors slowly opened and more neighbors emerged.
And then it landed. In the school parking lot on the corner. A giant helicopter, with huge spotlights shining every which way, blades still turning slowly. No one got out...No one got in. No police cars, ambulances, tanks, trucks or SWAT teams. Just one giant helicopter. In the middle of the schoolyard on on Cordell St.
And just as quickly as it came, it left. We all still stood on our lawns in pajamas like fools, exchanging embarrassed waves and hellos. No one quite knew why the helicopter landed. Or whose helicopter it was. Evan declared it to be a UFO. Mr Pitt thinks it was the Marines. Being an ex-Marine himself, he feels very strongly about his theory.
The paper didn't mention it this morning.
I think the CIA has my house under watch. Be careful what you say to me :)
Thursday, December 29, 2005
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
Holy Shit.
The Senate did something right!
http://www.cnn.com/2005/POLITICS/12/21/arctic.drilling.ap/index.html
http://www.cnn.com/2005/POLITICS/12/21/arctic.drilling.ap/index.html
Monday, December 19, 2005
Baby Love, My Baby Love
Back from the much awaited 20 week ultrasound.
And 100% certain that we're having a baby girl :)
After 2 hours of sonogram and three doctors opinions, they have deemed her completely normal with a "beautiful heart," growing right on schedule. Evan deemed her to look like a breakdancing Skeletor...such a poet. They gave me a dozen or so pictures, but I'm not going to bother posting them, because the technician I had was completely incompetent and they're really blurry.
Yay! A girl :)
And 100% certain that we're having a baby girl :)
After 2 hours of sonogram and three doctors opinions, they have deemed her completely normal with a "beautiful heart," growing right on schedule. Evan deemed her to look like a breakdancing Skeletor...such a poet. They gave me a dozen or so pictures, but I'm not going to bother posting them, because the technician I had was completely incompetent and they're really blurry.
Yay! A girl :)
Monday, December 12, 2005
The Dash
I once read a poem, a very poorly written poem, with cheesy ABAB rhyme scheme and thundering iambic pentameter entitled The Dash. While poem flip-flopped between something that was "my-god-is-an-awesome-god" and "spend-your-time-wiser-than-your-money," it obviously left an impression on me, because it came flying back into my memory several years after reading the Chicken Soup For the Really Bad Poets Soul.
One year ago today, my maternal grandfather, my Papou, died in my mom's home. Today, my mother, my cousin Ed and I trekked out to the cemetery, overly large grave blankets made of poinsettias and pine in tote. Ed hammered the blankets into the cold, frozen earth, while my mother and I stood silently behind, watching through teary eyes. We stood for a while, talking about the new baby on the way, I talked about Evan, Ed talked about Jessica, my mom cried. But I noticed how utterly inadequate headstones are.
Papou and my Nanny were buried in a Veteran's cemetery. Since he is a Veteran, his marker is set to certain standards. It simply allows for his name, date of birth and death, and beneath that it says "Korean War." But he was so much more than that...His life was more than just a Korean War veteran and a dash.
He was a husband, to my Nanny, Jemma. They were high school sweethearts, who married the week after she turned 18.
He was a father of two children, my mother Debbi, and my Uncle Ed.
He was a grandfather of six, myself, my cousins JohnPaul, Ed, Steve, Samantha and my sister Jemma.
He was a great grandfather to my godson, JohnPaul Jr -- I'll never forget the day he found out Evan and I were asked to be godparents. He chuckled and shook his head...."It's like All-State," he mused. "He'll be in good, good hands."
He was a professional basketball player. He toured Europe, playing all of Europe's olympic basketball teams. At 6'7" in his prime, he towered over his team mates and opponents.
He was a city councilman and then Mayor of our town.
He was the kindest soul I've ever encountered. Larger than life, he was a giant teddy bear, and loved his family dearly. He had a quick wit and a sharp tongue, and wasn't afraid to let anyone in the family be on the receiving end.
The summer before I married, Evan and I would sit over his house in the evening, and go through old photos. Old high school scrapbooks of his, old war memorabilia, photos and newspaper bits from his ball playing days. He'd run his fingertips over the pictures of my Nanny, gone sixteen years before him, and tell a funny story about how they met, or how the photo came to be so special. But, I guess when you don't have someone anymore, they all become special.
After Nanny died, Papou, my mom and I used to go to the cemetery every Sunday. Papou would lay flowers, and I'd leave something I had made in school, or a pretty shell I'd found at the beach, or a photo, and then we'd go to breakfast at a diner. And every Sunday, because Papou insisted on going at O'Dark Thirty in the morning, we'd see deer crossing the roads in the park leading to the cemetery. Papou always said that Nanny sent the deer to make us smile. Being eight at the time, I never thought to question it. It just made sense. Of course she did.
Today, as we were pulling into the cemetery, in the middle of the afternoon, two deer crossed in front of the car. One was quite possibly the biggest male deer I've ever seen, and a petite little doe walking beside him. We stopped the car and we all held our breath as the deer nuzzled one another, looked straight at us, wiggled their ears, and continued to walk on together towards the lake.
We didn't say anything about it until we were on our way home. Ed leaned forward in from the backseat and said "Do you think those deer were Nanny and Papou?" My mom reached over and squeezed my knee and I put my hand on hers.
No one answered Ed's question.
It was one of those kinds that the answer doesn't have to be spoken, you can just feel it inside.
One year ago today, my maternal grandfather, my Papou, died in my mom's home. Today, my mother, my cousin Ed and I trekked out to the cemetery, overly large grave blankets made of poinsettias and pine in tote. Ed hammered the blankets into the cold, frozen earth, while my mother and I stood silently behind, watching through teary eyes. We stood for a while, talking about the new baby on the way, I talked about Evan, Ed talked about Jessica, my mom cried. But I noticed how utterly inadequate headstones are.
Papou and my Nanny were buried in a Veteran's cemetery. Since he is a Veteran, his marker is set to certain standards. It simply allows for his name, date of birth and death, and beneath that it says "Korean War." But he was so much more than that...His life was more than just a Korean War veteran and a dash.
He was a husband, to my Nanny, Jemma. They were high school sweethearts, who married the week after she turned 18.
He was a father of two children, my mother Debbi, and my Uncle Ed.
He was a grandfather of six, myself, my cousins JohnPaul, Ed, Steve, Samantha and my sister Jemma.
He was a great grandfather to my godson, JohnPaul Jr -- I'll never forget the day he found out Evan and I were asked to be godparents. He chuckled and shook his head...."It's like All-State," he mused. "He'll be in good, good hands."
He was a professional basketball player. He toured Europe, playing all of Europe's olympic basketball teams. At 6'7" in his prime, he towered over his team mates and opponents.
He was a city councilman and then Mayor of our town.
He was the kindest soul I've ever encountered. Larger than life, he was a giant teddy bear, and loved his family dearly. He had a quick wit and a sharp tongue, and wasn't afraid to let anyone in the family be on the receiving end.
The summer before I married, Evan and I would sit over his house in the evening, and go through old photos. Old high school scrapbooks of his, old war memorabilia, photos and newspaper bits from his ball playing days. He'd run his fingertips over the pictures of my Nanny, gone sixteen years before him, and tell a funny story about how they met, or how the photo came to be so special. But, I guess when you don't have someone anymore, they all become special.
After Nanny died, Papou, my mom and I used to go to the cemetery every Sunday. Papou would lay flowers, and I'd leave something I had made in school, or a pretty shell I'd found at the beach, or a photo, and then we'd go to breakfast at a diner. And every Sunday, because Papou insisted on going at O'Dark Thirty in the morning, we'd see deer crossing the roads in the park leading to the cemetery. Papou always said that Nanny sent the deer to make us smile. Being eight at the time, I never thought to question it. It just made sense. Of course she did.
Today, as we were pulling into the cemetery, in the middle of the afternoon, two deer crossed in front of the car. One was quite possibly the biggest male deer I've ever seen, and a petite little doe walking beside him. We stopped the car and we all held our breath as the deer nuzzled one another, looked straight at us, wiggled their ears, and continued to walk on together towards the lake.
We didn't say anything about it until we were on our way home. Ed leaned forward in from the backseat and said "Do you think those deer were Nanny and Papou?" My mom reached over and squeezed my knee and I put my hand on hers.
No one answered Ed's question.
It was one of those kinds that the answer doesn't have to be spoken, you can just feel it inside.
Sunday, December 04, 2005
Kind of makes you want to bang your head on the wall...
Mike sent me this picture tonight. Rumor has it that there are 75 different bands in this little picture. The full size picture can be seen Here
This is what I've come up with:
1. U2
2. Smashing Pumpkins
3. The Eagles
4. B-52's
5. Matchbox 20
6. Led Zeppelin
7. Sex Pistols
8. Black Crowes
9. The Pixies
10. Iron Maiden
11. White Snake
12. Radiohead
13. Alice in Chains
14. 50 Cent
15. Styx
16. The Police
17. Gorrilaz
18. Blind Melon
19. Scissor Sisters
20. Queen
21. Prince
22. White Zombie
23. Dead Kennedys
24. Rolling Stones
25. The Cranberries
26. Garbage
27. Guns-n-Roses
28. Nine Inch Nails
29. Blur
30. The Eels
31. Red Hot Chili Peppers
32. Dinosaur Jr.
33. Beach Boys
34. The Cars
35. Jewel
36. Phish
37. Seal
38. Cypress Hill
39. The Doors
40. Hole
41. BeeGee's
42. Madonna
43. Cowboy Junkies
44. Talking Heads
45. The Cult
46. The Go Gos
47. Bush
48. Kiss
49. Twisted Sister
How many more can you find?
This is what I've come up with:
1. U2
2. Smashing Pumpkins
3. The Eagles
4. B-52's
5. Matchbox 20
6. Led Zeppelin
7. Sex Pistols
8. Black Crowes
9. The Pixies
10. Iron Maiden
11. White Snake
12. Radiohead
13. Alice in Chains
14. 50 Cent
15. Styx
16. The Police
17. Gorrilaz
18. Blind Melon
19. Scissor Sisters
20. Queen
21. Prince
22. White Zombie
23. Dead Kennedys
24. Rolling Stones
25. The Cranberries
26. Garbage
27. Guns-n-Roses
28. Nine Inch Nails
29. Blur
30. The Eels
31. Red Hot Chili Peppers
32. Dinosaur Jr.
33. Beach Boys
34. The Cars
35. Jewel
36. Phish
37. Seal
38. Cypress Hill
39. The Doors
40. Hole
41. BeeGee's
42. Madonna
43. Cowboy Junkies
44. Talking Heads
45. The Cult
46. The Go Gos
47. Bush
48. Kiss
49. Twisted Sister
How many more can you find?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
