Soaking up the sun 25 November 2009

Yes, I’m still here, though busy busy busy.  We’re in Tucson right now, staying with the in-laws at their lovely home.  It’s been great.  I love not having to worry about the kids 24/7, and to have the ability to leave them with their grandparents for a few hours or the day or what-have-y0u.  My in-laws love these kids so much, and taking care of them is no big deal.  My mother-in-law even changes diapers!!  I mean, she won’t volunteer or anything for it, but this morning when ME needed a diaper change, she rolled up her sleeves and got to work.

See, there are a lot of people staying here, and the only room large enough to also accommodate the kids is the master suite.  So the kids are sleeping with my in-laws.  This works out for everyone involved, since the kids like to get up early, and my in-laws are morning people.  Generally we’re up not long after everyone else, but it’s nice not to have to worry.

Grace has been mostly good throughout the trip.  Every once in a while, her attitude really flares up, and it’s then that I want to sell her on eBay.  Fortunately it’s only every once in a while.  ME, on the other hand… I don’t know where my sweet, quiet baby has gone.  It started on the plane.  The first leg from Providence to Chicago went fine, mainly because we had gotten up at 3am to catch our 6am flight, and it was just too early in the morning for everyone.  I had Grace pillowed on my lap, and ME had her own seat (yay for flights that aren’t full!), and she passed out too.  The flight from Chicago to Tucson — ugh.  By then ME was done being in her car seat (yay for another not-full flight!), and every so often she would shriek in annoyance.  Yes, we were one of those families with the shrieking kid.  But at least she wasn’t going on and on.  Her screams are pretty ear-piercing, though, and every time she fussed, I wanted to die.

She can be a trial, that one.

The night before last, she woke up screaming too.  The whole house woke up because of her shrieking.  My in-laws ended up bringing her to bed with them to try to calm her.  I was in no condition to take care of her, having had way too many margaritas with my mother-in-law (note to self: do not let one’s brother-in-law pour the tequila).  Good thing she was in my in-laws’ room.  She settled down eventually, but it was really strange. She’s not one to wake up in the middle of the night.  My father-in-law has a theory — he thinks she’s waking up because the coyotes are out and howling, and it sets off the million dogs that live in this neighborhood.  The first night we were here, I woke up several times when the coyotes began to howl because it sounded like the baby was crying, and then the dogs began barking at top volume.  It’s not something my East Coast ears are used to.  Last night we had the window shut, so we didn’t hear anything.  My in-laws can’t sleep without some air flow, so maybe ME heard the coyotes again last night.  Poor girl.  My mother-in-law also thinks maybe she’s teething, so we’ve picked up some meds for her in case she fusses some more.

So I’m not exactly looking forward to the flights home, especially considering that the flight from Las Vegas to Providence will be six long hours.  Maybe I’ll just let Kurt sit next to her and pretend to be all outraged that this father is letting his kid shriek all the way to Providence.

Heh.

I am loving the sun here, though.  It’s so weird to go outside and have it be 75º in November!  I didn’t bring enough warm-weather clothing for ME, mainly because she’s outgrown all her clothes from last summer, but also because I completely forgot how warm 75º can feel.  Off we went to Walmart, only to be confronted with long-sleeved turtlenecks and sweatpants.  WTF?!  Then again, 75º is positively chilly for native Tucsonans.  In December, when the daytime temps drop into the low 70s and high 60s, everyone’s decked out in ski coats and hats and gloves.  It’s pretty funny to those of us who live in a climate that’s actually cold.  Kurt and I will be running around in shorts and t-shirts, and everyone else is bundled up.

We managed to find some cute dresses and warm-weather gear at Goodwill for ME, so she’s been cool enough.  Thank goodness for second-hand stores!

I’m really looking forward to Thanksgiving.  We have three professional chefs  in the family, and we’re having a cooking competition.  Each chef has to prepare a turkey, a veggie, and a starch — and we’ve got some non-family members coming to the meal to judge their entries.  I know some of what my brother-in-law is contributing, and if the other two chefs’ food is up to his level, we’ll all be eating quite well this holiday.  My brother-in-law made dinner last night, a roasted spice-rubbed pork tenderloin, that was absolutely to die for.  And yesterday we’d visited the University of Arizona’s research facility at which they investigate how well veggies can be grown hydroponically, and they gave us a bunch of cucumbers and tomatoes that needed to be eaten.  My brother-in-law chopped them up and tossed them with sliced garlic, red onion, and a balsamic dressing — and it was to die for.  Soooo good.  I had at least three helpings of that salad last night.

Today we’re having lunch at the bistro run by the culinary school Kurt’s cousin attends, so we’ll be having a delicious meal then too.  I’m going to come home six sizes larger than what I left!  But oh, it’ll be worth it.  Nom!

Quitters never win 19 November 2009

I am going to admit something to you that I’m not very proud of.  I am sad to admit I think I am going to give up on a book.

I don’t give up on books!  I just don’t!  I don’t know what my deal is, but I can count on one hand the number of books I have forsaken partway through.  (One was The Hobbit — and now I duck as SJAT throws something large and heavy at my head.)  I will read and read, regardless of how painful it is to me, because what if halfway through it turns into a fantastic book?  Or three-quarters of the way through?  Or near the very end?  How can I possibly give up so soon?

But alas, I do believe this one has done me in.  It’s a book about Saladin and Richard the Lionhearted during the Third Crusade, and that’s part of the reason I am so sad about this development.  I have always been fascinated by the Crusades (in fact, as I compose this post, I’m listening to the soundtrack to Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, and I’m at the beginning when Robin is still in Arab lands — the perfect background music for this post).  The beginning of this book likens the Crusades to the Holocaust set in motion by Hitler, and I never thought of it that way.  But it makes so much sense.  The Christians set off into the lands ruled over by Muslim Arabs in order to win back the Holy Land for the “right” religion, and they slaughtered the Arabs en masse for their beliefs.

If that isn’t a Holocaust, I don’t know what is.

I was also looking forward to this book to come away with a better grasp of why that area has been such a bone of contention for so many years.  Yes, it’s the Holy Land for three different religions, so it’s not going to be a land of peace and tranquility with three religions claiming it as their own, but why all the wars?  Why the violence and suffering?  This book promised to give me an inkling of how it all started.

But I can’t get into it.  I really can’t.  It’s soooooo dry.  The reviews made it seem as though the book would grip me from page one, but I find myself reading and re-reading a paragraph because I have read the words without grasping the meaning.  And then I try all over again, and it’s just not working.  I’m 77 pages into it.  I hate to give up now, though.  I only have 300 pages more to go.

Should I stick with it?  Or should I give up? There are some passages that make me want to keep reading, like the chapter about Richard’s beginnings.  That part went quickly, and learning about Muslim tradition is quite interesting.  Apparently Saladin had captured two Crusaders, one being the King of Jerusalem and one a local lord, and the Sultan sat down with them in his pavilion.  He gave the King a bowl of rose-water sherbet, and the King passed it along to the lord after he had taken some.  Saladin became angry because in Muslim tradition, a man who had taken another prisoner is required to show him mercy if he offers him food and water.  Even so, the lord was executed within the hour due to the atrocities he had committed against the Muslim people before his capture.

See?  It’s interesting.  But only in parts.  The bigger part of me wants to chuck it and read something interesting, and fun, and gripping, like the November book for Books & Snacks, which was The Guernsey Literary & Potato Peel Pie Society.  That book was amazing.  I was sucked in within the first twenty pages and kept turning one page after another to see what was going to happen next.

Maybe I’m not cut out to read non-fiction.  My goal is to read something educational every once in a while, just to keep my brain in shape after so many years of being a stay-at-home mom.  I don’t need my mind turning to mush!  Although I guess I should cut myself some slack; at least I read, and that in itself is keeping my brain exercised.

I know I’ve said it before, but I don’t get people who don’t read.  I love love love to read, and I will make time to read.  My father says he likes to read, that he enjoys it, but that he doesn’t have time for it.  Well.  I don’t know about you, but I always make time for the things I really enjoy doing.  The laundry will sit in the dryer for five days, but I’ll sit down with my book for twenty or thirty minutes.  I cannot fall asleep unless I’ve read for at least ten minutes.  It’s the only way to shut my brain off from all the worry and stress and concern I have going on.  Otherwise my mind just goes round and round and round and round with all sorts of random crap, and one thing feeds into another, and it goes on and on as I toss and turn all night.  It’s not pretty.  I need my beauty sleep!

I’d much rather read than take a sleeping pill, any day.

Hmm.  Maybe I’ll read some more and see if this book gets more interesting.  Wish me luck.

The holidays have begun 16 November 2009

Yes, indeedy, they have.  Even if I discount this past weekend, it would be very evident.  XM has decided to begin the 24/7 playing of Christmas music on my beloved 1940s channel, which has left me rather bereft.  In previous years, they had simply inserted various Christmas classics into their regular lineup.  That suited me perfectly, but apparently it wasn’t good enough for XM.  So now I can either listen to “Holiday Traditions” or I could mosey over to the Sinatra channel.

Maybe I’ll just stick with my BBC Radio 1.

This past weekend was our holiday kickoff.  My grandparents are snowbirds, wintering in Florida every year.  This winter is no different, though there is a bit of a bittersweet tang about it.  My grandfather suffers from Alzheimer’s, and it’s been decided that they can no longer make the arduous trek from central Pennsylvania down to Florida.

It’s quite sad about my grandpa.  He used to be the man who would hold forth at our holiday get-togethers, his deep, booming voice a comforting soundtrack to my childhood.  He doesn’t speak much anymore, I think because he’s not entirely certain what’s going on.  He can’t drive anymore because he can’t remember how to get from point A to point B in the little mountain town that’s been his home for the last fifty years.  I know I’ve written about this before, but he’s getting worse.  I’m not even sure he remembered which grandkid I was, who I belonged to, or that I had y own mkids.  He just seemed so… distant.  And it’s such a shame too — his brilliant mind stolen away by the ravages of this disease.

It makes me want to cry when I think about it.

Anyhow, my grandparents are set to make their yearly trek this week.  My dad will drive up to retrieve my grandparents to bring them to DC where they will catch the train southward, and my uncle will drive their car to Florida.  It’s a system that works well, and one that will be repeated in the spring when they return north.  Because they were about to head south, it was decided that this past weekend would make an excellent one to gather the family together for an early Thanksgiving.

Almost everyone was there.  The only ones that couldn’t make it were my brother (he had to work), and what I call the Florida contingent.  My aunt and uncle and their three kids live near where my grandparents winter, and because my sister lived in Florida for quite a few years, I still count her among the Florida contingent though she now resides near Atlanta.  But we even had the Kyrgyzstan contingent show up!  My aunt and uncle and their three kids are missionaries there, although their eldest son and their daughter CA now attend college in Maryland.  I’m not sure why they’re in the States now, but I was very glad to see them.  I had to pat CA down before I said goodbye to her; I was afraid she would smuggle ME back to college with her!  She loves babies, and oh how they love her.

But the best part of the whole weekend was seeing my grandma with Mary Ellen.  That’s her namesake, after all.

The two Mary Ellens got along famously.  There was some concern about the baby ME toddling along, as she’s not all that steady on her feet.  Since I’ve seen her through falling down my friends’ yard onto asphalt and tumbling down a flight of stairs onto concrete, I was a bit more sanguine that she’d turn out just fine.  I was outvoted, though, and there was a movement to find her a helmet to protect her precious cranium.  Fortunately it was abandoned before the motion could carry.

It was a fantastic weekend, though, and it was so nice to let my grandma finally meet the baby.  Now I’ll just hold my breath till the spring in hopes that my grandparents make it back north safely.

*crosses fingers*