Previous month:
February 2006
Next month:
April 2006

LIST FRIDAY = 6 ON 6

6 moments I'd like to relive:

1. my wedding
2. my honeymoon in San Francisco when my mother called to say I passed the bar exam.
3. Finding out I was pregnant with each of my children.
4. The weekend Mr. Pom and I spent in Carmel at his boss's cottage.
5. The vacation on Cape Cod with  my mother and father the year before my father died.
6. Anyone of the days spent with all my kids on vacation when they were all little.

6 moments I wouldn't want to relive:

1. Watching the Twin Towers collapse from the windows at our office 20 miles away.
2. Listening to the military jets buzzing the airspace for nights afterwards.
3. The day I found out my father had pancreatic cancer.
4. The day I found out my aunt had pancreatic cancer.
5. The Sunday we said good bye to all my family before moving across the country to California.
6. The day my husband came home and told me that he'd fallen in the driveway and hurt his back, some 24 years ago, the moment that our lives were irrevocably changed and the moment from which we still are struggling.


can ya see it now?

I reloaded the photo and after some tinkering I can see it in Mozilla. Let me know if you still can't see it.

And don't forget List Friday - 6 moments you'd like to relive and 6 you'd like to forget!

As for me, this was a day at work I never want to relive, and tonight is a dinner I'm going to that I hope I don't forget to tell you about.


Status Update on Dog Adoption

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She's fine.

Really, this large, fluffy, incredibly sloppy dog has taken over the household.

Just  be mindful that I didn't let her up on the bed.

Especially with her bone, which you can see by Mr. Pom's leg. She carries this bone everywhere - everywhere, in her mouth while she gets walked around the block or even while doing her, er, business. She's quite the character.

She is the sloppiest dog I ever met. She manages to get kibble everywhere in the kitchen whenever she eats and there is constantly a trail of water leading somewhere from either her drooling or her last drink. She sometimes insists in going out at 3:00 a.m. and if you ignore the subtle signals you'll find quite a surprise when you get up in the morning.

However, adopting an older dog means that when you hobble out of bed on your bad knee or bad back, your dog doesn't pull you down the stairs because she hobbles too. When the kids took her to a fenced in park to run around, she just sedately walked around, poking her nose in the bushes and eating grass. She'll play "get the bone" when we first come home, but after about five minutes, she's exhausted and just wants to be petted.

For three hours.

She is ten times more work than I thought she would be, but despite that, when we get home from work at night and she gets her giant bone and jumps on the bed and throws herself on the bed at us as we scream, "get down!", her antics crack us up.

The most lovely result from Fluffernutter's adoption is to see the ways in which the Young One has matured. She's had some pets before and it hasn't worked out (hamsters stories, see archives), but this time, she has taken on at least 90% of the responsibility for the dog and absolutely loves her. I never thought I'd see the day when the Young One jumped out of bed at 6:30 a.m. to walk the dog with nary a grumble.

Dogs. A good thing.

Unless you don't like kibble crunching underfoot.

Or sharing your bed with a mini-polar bear.

(Note: the opinions expressed herein are strictly those of Mrs. Pom. The rest of the household can get their own blogs.)


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These are the violets that appear along our driveway as the first spring growth. When I was home sick yesterday, I was able to go outside and snap a few photos, but I didn't feel well enough to clear away the leaves.

Fluffernutter kept me company and when I had to get a prescription, she was glad to come for the ride. The dog is obsessed with riding in a car. As excited as she gets to go for a walk, she goes into a frenzy if you beep the car when you are outside. She drags you to the car and throws herself against the door. Which is cute unless she mistakes your neighbor's silver car for our silver car.

Violet2

Of course, these probably aren't actually violets. Maybe someone out there knows the correct name?

I'm off to spend the day in a windowless cubicle of an office to continue a deposition. Think of tender shoots and sturdy flowers being brave enough to break the soil and be the first to whisper, "Spring is here."


List Friday

This week's theme is lifted from a meme that a friend of mine sent me. I don't know where she got it from, but in case you were the one that started this meme, please accept my apology for not giving you credit, I'm merely borrowing it for List Friday:

Please list for us the following, to wit: (arcane lawyer language)

-six minutes you'd like to relive
-six minutes you'd like to erase


Blog's been closed for a few days while I scramble around. Mr. Pom is laid up with his back again and has been in bed since Friday night. That means there's no one around but me to do all the nasty weekend things like clean, laundry, etc. I had high hopes to get it all done, but I managed to get a stomach bug and I've been no help. I made the wise decision to cancel the realtor's appointment - she can see the house when we are both able to pitch in and organize this place. I soldiered through   yesterday and did errands and drove the young one to and fro for her commitments, and then spend a nice afternoon at the sister M's in front of the fire with the latest Martha Stewart and Country Living and Home UK.   

Today we went to church, then  I got Fluffernutter to the groomer, I collapsed on the couch and haven't been up since. I think I've watched six hours of The Food Channel. I've decided that I have a hopeless crush on Bobby Flay, a girl crush on Giada, and most want to be The Barefoot Contessa, and Paula Dean is the amalgamation of all my friends from the Mid-South.

I didn't sew, draw, or paint anything, but I did have enough energy this morning to drive around a little town that I love and take some photos of interesting rooftops, water views, and architectural elements that will be featured in my novel. I haven't uploaded any of them yet, but you'll see some this week. I am primarily motivated by a sense of place when I write and I am creating a village in which the story takes place. I decided I should have actual photos to help me wiht the story line and to fire my imagination when I am writing at 4:00 a.m. because I can't sleep.

Mr. Pom's not too happy with that habit, but at least the G4 has a pretty quiet keyboard. Could be worse - I could prefer to eat in bed at 4:00 a.m. rather than write. Crunch. Crunch.


The List: Or What I Need to Discard/Obtain to Bring About My Personal, Colorful Fruition

If it's all maintenance after 30, then it's all repair after 40.

One of the most grueling parts of the day is when I sit on my bed each morning and take out my triple magnifying mirror and "prepare" the face for it's daily application of sludge makeup.  Yes, I've written before about being born into the feminist movement and cutting my teeth in the 70's on Simone de Beauvoir and Betty Friedan, but I'm also the middle daughter in a family of 5 girls and we all know that my mother at 80 is dressed more sharply than I'll ever be. i couldn't escape the knowledge that you don't leave the house, unless it is on fire, without blow-drying your hair and applying some form of make up. Now, of course, I won't even look in the mirror without doing the same lest I scare myself to death.

Seriously, I think most women look better with some artfully applied make up. You look less tired, more rested, and perkier with a little blush and mascara. Over the years, I've bought ever brand from CVS off the rack to Chanel. One of my sisters worked for Clinique and those were the glory years when we'd all be showered with free samples and, on any special occasion, we'd drive over to her house to be made up. Unfortunately, that was a long time ago and she's buying from CVS now, too.

When I went back to work, my job was in an area with a lot of stores. I found myself in Bloomingdale's one day at lunch, and there I discovered the Bobbi Brown counter. Expensive, yes, but really, the product lasts a long time, so essentially it is an investment. [Note: we in the know call it "product", always singular, never plural just like we call those things we stick our legs in a "pant" and not a pair of pants. Why?I have no idea.] For a year I had the perfect base, blush, and neutral eyeshadow. Alas, they're all used up and I no longer work in that area. I'm down to the dregs of the blusher and have to complement the rest with the tiny samples that Clinique hands out at "bonus time".

Here's my list of what I need to get rid of to bloom into my personal spring:

1. The Revlon 8-color Expert Eyes Ombre Neutrals. The case is cracked and I lost the top somewhere and the brown I use for my eyebrows is barely there and I have supplemented with the redder brown, that is until I saw the color in daylight and look like I have angry welts where my eyebrows are.

2. The eyebrow brush that broke - don't ask how. I've kept track of the little, one inch long bristle end and whip it out each morning to smooth those brows before I fill them in. I'm tired of scraping my fingernails in the bottom of the bag searching for it and having to then scrape the make up out from under the fingernails...

3. The ubiquitous pink tube of Great Lash mascara. Every morning I do the mascara dance wherein I shove the little wand into the hole as hard as possible and scrape around until I pull up a dregs of mascara that promptly clumps onto one eyelash.

4. Dr. Perricone's Lip Plumper. Moment of insanity after a rare view of the home shopping network - or was it Oprah? Would have been better to take $35, burn it and applying the flaming bills to my lips - that would've plumped them up!

5. The ten cotton balls that roll around the bottom of my make up bag, collecting every piece of lint, shadow powder, etc., until I throw them out and replace them with ten new ones and so the story continues.

6. Those little bottles of yellow moisturizer from Clinique. I don't hate this stuff, but I don't like it and would never buy it, hence, I only have sample sizes. I used to have a beautiful jar of Bobbi Brown moisturizer, but now I pay college tuition bills.

7. Any one of ten tubes/bottles of stuff that say ""repairware" or " line fighter" or "rejuvenator". They don't.

8. The round, empty container of Sephora "cha cha" blush. I will never remember to buy it again and it just adds to the junk in the bag.

9. Which leads me to the bag itself, a plastic, see-through "gift" from Estee Lauder which is too big for my daily stuff, all of which fits into the little fabric bag that sits inside the big bag that takes up all the room in the top drawer of my dresser

10. and allows me to hang onto the: eyelash curler and other detritus that lives in the bottom of the bag. Why did I buy an eyelash curler? I don't remember except that I saw it on some TV show and decided it would really add to my morning routine by making my eyes stand out. If you count the number of eye lashes that are stuck onto the curler with the mascara, you'd see that I have lost more than I'll ever have on my eyes.

11. One more: The make up mirror itself. Used to have a stand. Broke in the drawer. So now make up application is a one-handed affair whilst the other holds the mirror, the mirror full of make up fingerprints.

Here's the opposing list of what I need to obtain to turn my life around:

1. Make up stylist.
2. Personal shopper.
3. Hair stylist.
4. Colorist
5. Stacy from What Not to Wear.
6. Bigger closet.
7. Narrow feet that love high heels.
8. Various surgical repairs to the face, neck, lips, eyes, and legs. (Yes, I saw a show where a woman had a "leg lift". Ouch!
9. That $25 pink polka dot laptop bag from Target that I never remember to go and buy,
10. New hair - but that's a separate list.

(And you all thought I was gonna get all New Agey and personal fulfillment on ya this week with a list of visualize your way to personal success. Really, I'm much shallower. )


List Friday

This one you can interpret any way you want: What are ten things you need to get rid of and ten things you need to get to bring yourself to personal fruition?What does that mean? You decide. Look at the areas of your life that need work - or the areas of your house, closet, or drawers. Have fun. That's what List Fridays are all about.

See you in the funny pages.


Why We Stay Here

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Looking for a new house within the confines of the city I grew up is quite a different proposition than the adventure of flying from coast to coast on three-day looking binges where we gobbled up house listings like salted peanuts. House 1, 2, 3, and so on until 15, perhaps 20 over a weekend. Then the flight home with a totebag stuffed with black and white statistics and blurry photos and the brain spitting out bits and pieces for the kids to digest.

Added to the tilt-a-whirl experience was the foreignness of it all. Were we really in America as we drove through streets with palm trees and one-story houses framed with roses beds planted in rows as tidy as Mr. MacGregor's garden? Turn a right angle corner and there's a sea of red-tiled roofs topping identical houses as far as the eye can see. And was that really a tumbleweed doing a bumpy clumsy run across the playground of the kids soon-to-be school?

I remember one house with a soaking tub right off the front door. It was 4 feet deep with sides as straight as a the concrete liner to a grave. Steps up and into it and a set of french doors for privacy. More to our liking were the outdoor barbecue kitchens, roofed oases by  pools, filled with blenders and microwaves and pits for grilling and smoking. My voice always echoed off the towering ceilings of the "great rooms" that commanded the heart of the houses; big, empty cold spaces lined with outdated carpeting and my thoughts spinning as to how we would fill these expanses with our little northeast sets of furniture.

But who could not get used to a black-bottomed pool with a waterfall in your own backyard? And an orange tree, persimmon tree, cherry tree, and peach tree? And azaleas watered by invisible sprinklers that popped up electronically twice a day? Yes, my voice echoed off the long hallway and my Schumacker wallpaper struggled to lie flat against the stuccoed walls, but worse still was the line of garage doors that were our neighbors' faces. Did anyone walk here or step outside their front doors?

I think of our rattling around houses that we enjoyed in different climes, now that we are too snug here back in our hometown. Seems like I've been lusting after a home in this city since I was 16 and though we have a perfectly adequate home  here, we still think that someday we'll have that center hall Colonial with the dining room and living room big enough to seat the 18 members of our immediate family. But the prices climb faster than our holdings and the outrageous prices of five years ago seem like giveaways and we are stymied by sticker shock deja vu all over again.

So why don't we leave this particular fantasy behind? I can't shake it loose and it is stuck on me like a tick engorged with  my own blood. And it's not as though a shift for a few towns over would bring any different result at the cash register. We'd be looking at a good 100 mile move to accomplish anything and the thing is, we've been there and done that. We had the museum house twice before and it only came alive when the family flew in for sporadic visits and the house filled with the sound of kids shrieking and laughing and cooking and baking aromas filled the rooms with warmth.

So here we are. We continue to look, hoping for some poor, misguided homeowner who hasn't poked his or her out the door in twenty years and has no idea that their house's value has reached the million mark. I wonder, I tell Mr. Pom, if all the buyers just refused to buy any houses for 6 months if we could bring the prices down....and he just raises his eyebrow at my fantasizing.

So until I become versed in organizing a boycott, I suppose I'll just have to accept that the streets of this city lead to memories too deep to carve out of my psyche. That I am waiting for the little weeping cherry to bloom this spring and see if the lilac produces more than one flower. That I need to be within a less than five-minute drive to at least one sister and know that I can get to my mother's within 15. And that the noise and the traffic and the hordes of kids walking through after school are a lot better than looking at each other over the Thanksgiving table and waiting for a phone call from up north to make the day complete.

And who knows, maybe it's out there, the 4 bedroom, center hall with large kitchen and roomy living room and screened porch and fenced yard for Fluffernutter for less than a lottery winning. Or maybe I'll just have to continue to write about it instead.


LIST FRIDAY

'Tis Spring today. Thoughts turn to fuzzy chicks, burgeoning buds, clear skies, and new beginnings. Can't you feel the change in atmosphere? Our thoughts are turning to starting over, to refining our lives, to clarifying our dreams.  So what's holding you back from your New Beginning? For List Friday the Pomegranates are asking you to list TEN THINGS YOU NEED TO SHED and TEN THINGS YOU NEED TO ACQUIRE for your journey to personal fruition.

Now we don't care whether you are literal and list the contents of your attic to throw out or get all Dr. Phil on us and list what habits you are going to acquire. Whatever you chose, just remember to post a comment here to tell us that your list is up.

Today, Mrs. Pom is dreaming of new kitchens,  baths, and floorspace, and Mr. Pom is crunching numbers and popping Tums over the state of the real estate market. The House? The sweet, small, simple house we went rushing out to see.....was $1.475 million. Open Mouth and Insert Large Bundle of Cash to Choke On. But now we have the bug and listings litter our dining room table and we are suddenly aware of how shabby our house has become...

Seriously, we are only happy when we are contemplating enormous change. It's in our blood. Started a long time ago, in the honeymoon stage of our life together. It's not always pleasurable change, or easy change, but it's always a growth experience as educators would say.

Fortunately, I have no buyer's remorse this morning, having acquired nothing this weekend more than some groceries. Good thing, too, since last week was Our Week of Cars. Mr. Pom took advantage of a week off to have all the cars serviced. All. The. Cars. Mine needed an oil change and a 3-month late inspection sticker (thank gods of unobservant police officers). Mystery Man's had a recall for free engine work of some kind that ended up costing us $800 (more than the cost of the car I bought in college). The Princess's driver window won't open and the part we bought on Ebay never arrived but will be here for her next week home. And Mr. Pom's, wel,l he decided to have a subwoofer (midlife crisis) installed in his car which cost some money, but the real treat came when a day later he noticed gas leaking out of his car. Seems the guys at Best Buy drilled through the gas tank....we don't know the damage on that one yet, but can you say Small Claims Court?

If only we knew a lawyer.....


Our House is a Very, Very, Cramped House

This is how it begins:

"Are you going to lie on the bed all day?"

"Just till Giada and Barefoot Contessa are over. Why?"

"I wanna take you to see something."

"I'm not looking at cars."

"Not a car."

"What?"

"Just come."

"I have to vacuum."

"Hurry up."

"Why??"

"A house."

"A house?"

"A house."

All I wanted was a latte and a couple of hours with fabric and beads. Maybe use my glue gun. Definitely was going to stitch some 140 lb. watercolor paper with ombre pink perl cotton. Haven't sat down yet. But saw a house.

More to come.


Confessions of a Deranged Mind

The trendiest post surfacing on blogs this week is "True Confessions" where the blogger rats out his or herself as to her worst secrets, fears, and habits.

Here is the one that has me hanging my head in shame:

Mr. Pom and I went to the soft opening of a trendy restaurant in the meat-packing district in the city - and I didn't have my camera!

Hence, blogging embarassment, shame, and ridicule.

It's true. I had it in my hand. Told Mr. Pom we needed to get batteries. He laughed since I had taken too long to decide what I could possibly drag out of the nun-like law wardrobe I have to put together something I could wear to the trendiest place in NYC. I then decided that I wouldn't bring it since we thought this was going to be a meet-n-greet type thing and his employers would probably be wondering why the hell the woman in the nun suit was taking photos everywhere...so I chickened out.

Instead, it turned out that we were seated alone at a very romantic table for two on the second floor of a beautiful, old warehouse from 1886 that had been transformed into an elegant New York restaurant. We had a view of the door they used for Samantha's downtown loft in Sex and the City. There was an interesting drum light pendant with fringe and crystals that cast the most youthful glow on our faces. Antique kilim runners covered the hardwood floors and a spectacular palm plant cast artful shadows at the edge of the bar. (Blackbird - I'm pretty sure the embroidered sheers were from Anthropologie).

It was the type of experience you  may fantasize about (at least I do). Seated at a great table, both dressed in our go-to-meeting-clothes, (Mr. Pom was especially handsome in his power suit and salmon-colored tie), we were handed the dinner menu and told to order anything we wanted. Anything. On the house.

I'm no fool. I headed right for the seafood. A dozen East Coast oysters please, and dungeness crab for the mister. Short ribs and mashed potatoes and tuna steaks followed. Espressos and butterscoth pudding and chocolate mousse was the perfect comfortable ending. Oh, and next time, just wear jeans and a leather jacket. (Note to self: buy leather jacket.)

As we walked across the cobblestoned streets on our way home, Mr. Pom and I fantasized about buying an apartment in the city. Several glasses of wine has washed away his gloomy, stressed out mood so I indulged him his fantasy, knowing full well that he'd last about two days living in the city. That was when we saw a large, black amorphous shape skittering across the street. A rat! A huge black rat! A small bag! A small, black plastic bag!

We're staying in the 'burbs.


Here's List Friday!

Hence comes Spring.....

  • sap green
  • forsythia
  • peeps - purple if possible, then pink, then yellow
  • malted milk eggs
  • shredded plastic straw for Easter baskets
  • orchid corsages for Mother's Day
  • daffodil yellow
  • vernal equinox
  • balancing eggs
  • vinegar to cut the wax to dye the eggs
  • cellophane to cover the Easter baskets
  • ham
  • deviled eggs
  • mulch
  • crocus
  • forget-me-nots
  • pussy willows (here comes the googlers)
  • navy blue linen
  • red polka dots
  • red shoes!
  • lavender spring coats like I had in 9th grade
  • straw hats
  • white Communion dresses
  • June brides
  • blush veils
  • nosegays
  • dotted swiss
  • grossgrain ribbons
  • black patent leather Mary Janes
  • biscuits with ham (pork favors heavily in spring)
  • chocolate crosses by Lindt (haven't seen one in 30 years but were they good!
  • candles lit in church at night for the Easter vigil
  • trumpets
  • lilies
  • azaleas banked around the altar
  • a woven basket full of eggs
  • lambs
  • meadows
  • Irish soda bread
  • limericks, leprechauns, and corned beef and cabbage

And now those words I am happy to  leave behind:

  • snow
  • ice
  • slush
  • black ice
  • sleet
  • hail
  • boots
  • heating bill
  • storm windows
  • gloves
  • hat hair
  • shovels
  • rock salt
  • snowblower
  • wind chill
  • Arctic
  • frigid temperatures
  • polar express
  • (fill in the blank) below zero
  • furnace filters
  • caulking
  • frostbite
  • poinsettias
  • pine needles
  • hot chocolate
  • soup
  • stew
  • comfort food

AND TO ALL: HAPPY SAINT PATTY'S DAY!


Springtime List Friday

Spring arrives MONDAY! And List Friday is our list of spring time words we are embracing and the cold winter words we hope to leave behind. Am I timely or what? You'd think I planned these things. Mrs. Pom is nothing if not on the cutting edge of....at least her Gingher scissors.

Speaking of which, I am dragging out all my fabrics (ok not all - I wouldn't be able to get into my art room). I am embracing this old rotting house and making slipcovers and curtains and pillows. The darlings don't want me to slipcover the chenille fabric on the sofa because it is so "comfy" but I think it needs a fresh, warm weather look. In other words, they get to pick the cars, I get to pick the furniture, okay? Back off. Comfort ain't all. Besides, think of how your spirits will lift, little Poms, when you are sitting on a sofa the color of periwinkles? Who could be depressed or tired sitting on periwinkles?

When we moved into our house in Memphis, our two chairs and a couch were lost in the new, huge, living room. We were very New Englandly, with navy blue plaid wing chairs and a beige Queen Anne sofa with little sprigs of navy blue.....it just didn't work with the  carved marble fireplace and antique crystal sconces from Raffles in New Orleans.

I was in hog heaven while I scoured the many fabric stores in Memphis looking for the right fabrics. I was so spoiled there. I had at least five major fabric stores within a ten minute drive. And I don't mean Joann's or Hancock's, I mean huge, discount fabric houses with enormous lines. I fell in love with a blue and white chintz check for the sofa. It was so bright and cheery but what to put with it....when what should my eyes espy?? A fabric with a coral ground ....covered in large blue and white plates....with fruit and vegetables on it. It was gorgeous. It was loud. It was so  me.

My stiff, staid wing chairs came back from the upholsterers looking like butterflies. My neighbor up the street, she of the loafers and plaid shorts, was aghast and managed to say so as they unloaded the darlings off the truck. As they say on The Sopranos, "She was dead to me" after that. Or as my MIL said, it looks better on the chair than she thought it would.

The fabric has held up well and they are still adorable in that Palm Beach obnoxious Lili Pulitzer type of way, but this living room is about 1/4 the size of the last one and the chairs are a bit stained and worn, so I get to go fabric shopping again. Actually I'd like to buy new, more comfortable chairs with more contemporary lines, but have you actually priced the cost of two club chairs? I can't bring myself to spend $2500 on two chairs. The blue and white check Queen Anne sofa was deemed way too stiff for everyday use so it has been replaced with a squishy, comfy sofa that I am totally bored with, hence the slipcovers. I'll try to remember to buy those batteries so I can show you the before and afters.

So we'll live with the chairs another ten years (it's been at least twenty so far) with their third change of costume and save the money to fix the porch roof....or the new dog fence...or the blinds we desperately need....no wait the new sidewalk....or front porch...or paint the downstairs....or just use it for another week in Cape Cod.

Anyway, this is your last reminder: SPRING IS HERE - LIST FRIDAY NEEDS YOU!!


The Golden Post

When I first started this blog, I tried to organize my posts in multiple categories. I had the azure journal, for when I was writing about art; I had the red journal for when I was writing about passions and emotions; and I had the green journal  for when I was writing about daily life.

That lasted about a week and until I decided I was no Doris Lessing and I just let it all hang out. That's pretty much what you'll find on this blog. I have no extreme point of view or major theme that I write about. One day it is about art, the next day about kids, another day about relationships, and then another on what I like to read/eat/watch on TV.

So I try not to filter too much of what I say. I tend to keep the super-ego under the bed and pretty much let the id fly. After all, that's what life is. I am no neat and tidy anything, whether it be artist, writer, lawyer, wife, mother, sister, friend, or daughter. I am passionate, obsessive, annoying, reclusive, extroverted, shy, outspoken, reserved, generous, stingy, even-tempered, short-tempered, and sometimes just plain boring, especially when I do too much navel gazing.

All that said, I feel more myself today and I heartily thank all of you for your kind and supportive comments. I think I just needed more sleep and a day to process it all. Work is always a conundrum for me. I don't hate what I   do, but it is not the perfect fit, either. About once a year my company sends out a survey for us to take where we have to list in order of importance what we value most in our job. I always end up giving "pleasant environment" and "working with people that I like" a more important rating than money and career path. So as much as I know I should leave the office at the office, my personality is too tied up in the work family shenanigans to be able to do that. Every few months I get gob-smacked by the realization that this pretty much is what I will be doing for the rest of my life and it throws me into a funk for days.

I've been very intrigued by a theory floated by Jennifer Louden on her blog. She calls it "the lottery syndrome" when we see our life in terms of some magical thing happening at some undetermined time in the future when everything will fall into place and we will be living the life we want. I can say that I really live life in the present  90% of the time. I work as a lawyer, but I write for the magazine, do art work, and have a full family life. But still, in the back of my mind, I believe that my real life is just a book, painting, or great idea away. I believe that we can all lead creative, authentic lives - but that doesn't mean that doesn't mean that it will happen all at once and change our lives irrevocably and forever. It means that we have to learn how to leaven our days with what we like to do and what we do best, tucking in pieces of joy between the drudgery and the stress.

I really felt  all the gentle cupping of the chins that you sent to me and it helped me so much. Each one of you have a place in my thoughts and in my heart and I carry you with me all the day. And  LK, sorry about the clunk against the head with the bishop's ring.  I'm  a cyber stroke of the cheek to each and everyone one of you.  And Mrs. Pomegranate is writing you all into the Golden Post.


The Grandparent's Sign

  • I got a new title at work. Same job, same pay, but now with a title.
  • The title is supposed to secure me a promotion next year if I work very hard.
  • I can't imagine working any harder than I worked this year so I am underwhelmed and flummoxed by this turn of events.
  • My annual raise was half of what I got last year. No explanation and no seeming concern or responsiveness by my boss.
  • Yesterday I represented a client at a deposition. He was driving his car, had an accident, and his front seat passenger, his 21 year old friend, died. It was very sad.
  • At my daughter's confirmation meeting, the priest explained that during the sacrament, the Bishop used to tap the cheek of the confirmandi (that's what they're called). When we grew up, they told us that the tap  was to show that we were now soldiers of Christ. Nonsense, the priest said, the ritual tap was supposed to represent "the grandparent's sign ", i.e., the gentle cupping of the face a grandparent gives a child. The Church replaced the tap with the handshake of peace because the meaning of the ritual had become muddied.

I'm strangely laid low this week. Anxious at night, sad during the day, out of sorts with Mr. Pom, and feeling like I have nothing much to share here this week.

I need the grandparent's sign.

Don't we all?


Nuances of Spring

The first subtle greening is upon us. You  have to look down and up to catch the nuances of Spring that are close at hand. There are tiny violets in the border of my driveway and the willows fronds are yellow. As I chug up the big hill to the office park, I am aware of a blush of the palest green on the scrubby bushes on the hillside. And now when I leave work at almost six, I don't have to turn my headlights on until I almost home.

Nuances - isn't that a lovely word? Very onomatopoetic, itself a word that rolls off the tongue. I love luscious words that convey a world in a few letters, words that trill and spill and fan out like a peacock's feathers.

So this week's List Friday will be two-fold:

Please list the words you love that bring Spring to mind.
Then list the words that you are happy to leave behind as the season changes.  Ten of each if you can, or however many you can muster.

I hope to bring you images of Spring soon, if I ever remember to buy new batteries for the digital. And photos of the new sofa pillows that I made over the weekend. The pillows that looked so pretty that they made the greenish brown sofa look horrid and then caused me to order 12 yards of periwinkle fabric to slipcover the sofa. Seems another project has reared its head.

Thank you for all the advice on the party-giving. It's not my friends I'm worried about -it's the relatives and the fear of rain and having 50 people standing shoulder to shoulder with plates of food dripping on their shoes. But you are all so right - just go with what you have. In this case, less stress is the coda and we are heading out.

Give a shout out if you have questions about the list.


March of Time

We will be blooming in celebrations this Spring. The Princess is graduating from college. It feels like yesterday that we were planning her high school graduation and the fever of prom preparations, shopping for the dress and finding the perfect red satin strapless gown hanging on the return rack at Bloomingdale's. The four years began with her nervousness when we kissed goodbye in the dorm room on that first day and then it seemed like a headlong rush through the semesters, each bringing it's own flavor or crisis and resolve. And here we are now at the end of the run, she mature and capable and brilliant and off to spring break with her roommates, without needing her parents to even drive her to the airport.

The Young One, she's graduating middle school and making her confirmation in June. It's too soon to wax eloquent on The Young One and her transition from the tomboy baby of the family to a graceful, witty young teenager. There will be time for that in the balmy air of May evenings, when my nostalgia is fueled by smell of lilacs by the front door.

Today it is all lists and "to-do's" and at the top of the list is finding somewhere to host the combined party for all three events. We've never had a family party out of the house. We've always entertained in house, whether barbecues of hot dogs and hamburgers or Italian food catered by the local deli. I always prefer house parties, both to attend and to give. I like the pre-party buzz, the last few minutes when we rush around and spit and polish the door knobs and wonder whether anyone will notice the chipped paint on the moldings and the gutter hanging off the porch. This year we're supposedly stepping out, however, admitting our energy is totally sapped by work and our house needs a big face lift that will not happen in the next two months. Still, I've put off looking for a place and have been dragging my feet to give the deposit and pick the menu. Clearly, I have mixed feelings.

So I spent this weekend surveying the house and wondering whether just to go for it once again. After all, we began this family parade of parties through the years with The Princess's baptism. The house and yard was filled with people, both relatives and friends spilling out onto the lawn, and so many of those faces gone now, just memories and snapshots of suited men and ladies in dresses holding drinks and laughing. We've moved on to a fourth house since then and this house hasn't the half acre or the rooms for 50 people to find a seat or hold a conversation. And what if it rains? The back porch is disintegrating, every room needs painting,  the screened porch  needs roof repairs, and the kitchen is as in need of retrofitting as it was when we moved in 5 years ago.

I don't know. I'm on the fence. If I lose the room at the restaurant, I'll have to start all over again. But I just can't myself to go over there and plunk down a check. I keep thinking I'm cheating somehow and at the same time feeling that I can't afford the type of place I'd like to have it,  somewhere near the water, with a lot of light, and sofas and tables where people can get up and wander around. Some place like the home I wish we had. A home with a kitchen large enough to have stools around a counter for sitting and a dining room that flows into a living room filled with enough seats for all and a powder room on the first floor and a back yard filled with flowers and trees and paved walks.

I'd better go give them a check or next thing you know, I'll be hunting through the for sale signs and convincing myself and Mr. Pom that we can afford that house. Maybe it's easier to fork out the big bucks for a better venue than a new multi hundreds of thousands of dollars mortgage. Guess I'd better get dressed and get over there. Before I start going to Sunday Open Houses and picking up the spec sheets for center hall colonials with kitchens with black and white tile floors. Or hire a contractor to add on that deck/dining/great room/kitchen/laundry/bath we've been talking about for five years. Yes, I'd better get that check over there - before the next tuition payment is due.

It's hard out there for a pimp parent paying college tuitions.


God Knows what These People Are Thinking!

Let's do this: let's go back a few weeks and look at the "Word Cloud" that this nifty little software made after scanning all my blog entries:

Wordcloud

These are the words that are popular in my entries.[Note:"wabder" is a misprint from my tinkering with the selections. Too lazy to fix it.]

As you can imagine, I get tons of hits for people looking for pages about art, writing, creativity, and, yes, pomegranates of every possible kind and use.

But these, the following, are the hits I get that make me scratch my head or gag, spit my coffee all over the keyboard, or all three.

  • "where can I found information about men who wear bowties"

        ( I don't know, but not here!)

  • "what gas, if combined with tin, keeps your teeth stronger"

         (I'm thinking there was a little reefer being inhaled when this was                        written. )

  • "1950's paper scrapbook damn right I'm good in the kitchen"

        (This definitely was a mother with a few plants in the backyard. "They're             just a new hybrid of bamboo, dear".)

  • "I want to eat/drink/exercise to be taller"

          (Don't we all.)

  • 25 entries that say: "LORETTA Scott King"

            (It's Coretta Scott King, people, Coretta!)

  • p*rn dogs free pics

            (P*rn dogs+corn dogs=obscenely good junk food.)

  • "bathroom cam catches t**nage son in shower"

            (who was it supposed to catch??)

  • "coricidin chat room"

            (Snot Nose has entered the chat room)

  • "cost of botox injections for lazy eye"

            (y'know what they say:if you have to ask....)

  • "for girls who grow and plumps in the night"

            (is this code or the second half  "P*rn dogs free pics"?)

  • "yellow spots  on incision five months after surgery"

            (ugh, absolutely disgusting and get off my blog!)

       And for the winner, best of show in the creepiest category:

  • "granny gets laid"

        (NOT AT MY HOUSE - BUT WHO KNOWS WHAT GOES ON AT THE                     SENIOR CENTER!)











Good Questions About List Friday

Mrs. Pom received the following question from a fellow blogger:

"Mrs. Pom,

I am not sure i even know what a ping is, let alone how to determine how goofy it was........

MA"

Dearest MA:

This is an excellent question! Is there a control panel page on your blog where you can check your statistics and see who has been reading your blog? If so, you will probably see entries for google searches. If you click on the google search, it will open and show you the search query that brought up your blog. For example, if you write about gardening, your blog pages may be pulled up in a google search for "best pot to plant in". Concurrently, it may also be pulled up in a search for: "Best pot to plant".  Those are the searches we are looking for on List Friday.

Babelbabe has a similar question regarding where to find the search words on a sitemeter. I know that if you have the sitemeter where you pay for the service, then you can access the  page where it shows you your views and visits for the week. At the bottom left hand corner is a place to click on for "view search referrer words". If you don't have a sitemeter but have typepad, you can see the google searches by doing what I said above. Those of you with other hosts, like blogger, etc., may want to chime in here as to where you can access it on your sites.

Thanks for bringing up this important tip that some newer bloggers may not know.

Mrs. Pom


Popping In

A very draining work week and lots of stress from Mr. Pom's back problems have made me a very boring blogger this week. Full day of work ahead with a meeting tonight for the youngest's Confirmation in June. I did, however, or think I may have, found a restaurant to have the party for the Big #: The Princess's college graduation, The Youngest's Confirmation, and her Middle School Graduation. As I write this, I realize that for the first time in 16 years, I won't have a child in elementary school. How weird and horrifying is that on the age scale?

Talk amongst yourselves until I resurface tomorrow with my own List of The Strangest, Weirdest, Funniest, and Most Inappropriate Searches that Have Pulled Up My Blog. Can't wait to see all of yours!!!


In Memorian and In Celebration

I learned with great sadness that Dana Reeves died this week. You couldn't help but admire this woman and her great smile that continued as her life was transformed after her husband's tragic accident. We saw her year after year standing by her husband and always glowing with happiness and love despite their burden. I remember so clearly when she appeared on Oprah with her son and talking with great poignancy after her husband's death, her arm around her child. Her sudden death seems more than any one family should have to bear and I worry about her son and how he will be shaped by the death of his both his parents at such a tender age.  And I'm startled to hear on the news this morning that lung cancer kills more women than breast and colorectal cancer combined.

There are women like Dana Reeves all over the world. We knew about her because of  her husband's fame, but there are tens of thousands of women who are selfless and sacrificing go unnoticed by the world as they tend to their sick loved ones.

My friend, Carolyn, is one of these women. Her husband was paralyzed by a slip of a surgeon's knife. They don't have the money and resources that the Reeves did. They have no full time medical staff -or even part time - attending to her husband's needs. They have kids, a house, careers, and all the stuff of life that had to be reconfigured.

Instead of describing their marriage, I'll just tell you that they still dance - she on her feet, he in his wheelchair - at weddings, at home, together, and with others. He bakes, she gardens. He goes to school, she works in a plant nursery. They have kids with all the problems and more that parents worry about.

And they have a love that shines for me everyday. They're feeling the loss of the Reeves keenly today. Send her your best wishes if you will.


LIST FRIDAY

For this week, please go into your blog stats and find the weirdest, funniest, most irrelevant, and most bizarre searches that have pinged your site. Are you an art site that gets pulled in "trout fishing" because you once posted an ATC with an etching of a fish? Or a mommy blog that gets pings for "hot babes" because you had the baby in the heat of the summer? Or did you once write an impassioned post about gambling on a new career and now get pulled up in searches for online poker?

Whatever the reason - just list your funniest, strangest, even creepiest search referrals.

As usual, the Poms are available to answer all your questions - and, oh, please post a comment to this blog when your list is up. I ran across a lot of lists last week where the blog owner didn't post an "I'm up" comment here and I'd hate to miss any of your contributions.

*************************************************
In other news, we are struggling to shake off winter and find some signs of spring. Yesterday I plunked down ten dollars and bought 2 dozen tulips at the supermarket when I ran in to get salad from the salad bar for lunch. Mr. Pom sent me tulips at the office for Valentine's Day and it was amazing how many comments it engendered in the office. Seems we are starved for color and beauty in the gray and black confines of the office and everyone had to come in and drink them in. Certainly a simple thing to do for yourself, especially when you can buy a dozen tulips for five bucks and they'll last at least a week if not more.

So do something beautiful for yourself today - buy some flowers, have a proper lunch at a sit down cafe, light the candles for dinner, and allow yourself to do more than rush from one overwhelming part of your life to the other. And I mean you!


Playlandpoles
This is how the weekend starts: all wide open and sunlit and the way is clear. How it ends is the tiny little opening at the end as we try to squeeze everything we had in mind to do it. It was a busy, run-around weekend.

So since I accomplished nothing of great import, here is what I did today - in reverse order because I'm too old to remember what I did in chrono order, as this morning seems so far away.........

  • watching the pre-Oscar show and bored already; hence blogging. But must finish before Jon Stewart begins his monologue.
  • ate apple crumble made by the youngest and served in meringue shells. Delicious - but can you say SUGAR?
  • did a little painting of a bowl and a lamp with gouache on brown Kraft paper. love the way the gouache shows on the brown paper. I'll scan it in one of these days
  • served dinner to Mr. Pom, the youngest and the Sister Teacher, who had a major car accident on Friday when a young twit lost control of her speeding car on black ice, crossed over the double yellow lines and smashed head on into Sister Teacher's car, which is now totalled. Sister Teacher is incredibly lucky because she only has massive bruises. And I mean massive as in the size of watermelons and color of eggplants. A very shaky Friday morning for all of us.
  • Made dinner after saying I wasn't going to because I hadn't spent a minute on art or writing this weekend. Guilt for making family eat crap all weekend and above got my butt in gear. Made a very involved recipe for chicken in red wine sauce that was all prep and ended up tasting like plain ol' baked chicken. The roasted Brussels sprouts, carrots, potatoes, and acorn squash saved the meal.
  • Cleaned vacuumed cleaned vacuumed washed dried washed dried
  • walked fluffernutter around the block after she peed on the "good rug" - for the second time in three days. Old dogs,old bladders, I can relate.
  • Had apricot tea and a tiny lemon meringue tart at a new bakery cafe while the youngest was at Sunday School. Read an article in Poets and Writers that brought up some new ideas that suddenly made my new art project and next column for Cloth Paper Scissors click.
  • Made Mexican eggs and cheese in burritos for breakfast
  • Woke up at 3:30 because I went to bed at 9:30 with sinus headache. Managed to go back to sleep where I dreamed I was dating George Clooney and running around somewhere in Europe in a red sports car.
  • How can a day turn out anything but good after a start like that?

I loved reading all of your craft lists. They brought back a  flood of memories about school, camp, and growing up in a big family. I've written about the extended women in my family before and their crocheting, cooking, beaded flower making, and even the great aunt who  made rosaries while she sat at her job as a telephone operator. Their handwork still survives in all our houses and we have the new generation of kids who are knintting and doing all sorts of cool crafts. Just yesterday, M. had a party for her youngest and their craft was sand art. My kids loved filling bottles with colored sand and it was always interesting to do this at birthday parties and watch which kids just slopped it in and which took hours to make intricately layered creations.

By this time of year, however, even crafts are losing their allure. We are like horses in the starting gate, all temperamental and spooked and waiting for that starter's gun to announce spring's arrival. Of course here in the northeast, the calendar date has little relationship to the actual arrival of warmer weather. Right now it's 28 degrees and the snow and ice from a few days ago are still here. Fluffernutter is not getting the exercise she needs cause it's too damn cold to stay out there for long. The youngest has done a wonderful job of walking her, though, even getting up on Sunday at 7:15 to take her out.

You may have noticed that I have stopped callng the youngest "The T**n". A check of my stats showed an inordinate amount of searches for with the word "t**n girls" in it and my skin crawled to think who was looking through my blog!

More to say later in the day. Mr. Pom is having severe back pain and is spending the weekend lying down - again. He's frustrated and fed up. We're bored. Time to pull out the paints.

Art saves lives.

Mainly mine.


My Craft Confession

I have never met a craft I didn't like. I've met many I couldn't do well, but there was always something about a craft that sucked me in every time.  Tactile, colorful, cheerful, I love them all. I've weaned myself off most, in the interest of sanity, fiscal security, and time management. But still....here are some old favorites.....

  • pipe cleaner people with googly eyes. It's all about the eyes, people, all about the eyes.
  • anything with glitter and Elmer's glue, but especially popsicle stick houses. Do you realize that Elmer's dries clear? I once had a tiny decoupage business and spent a lot of money on sophisticated glues that were designed to dry clear under glass...until I discovered that good ol' cheap Elmer's was what the pros used. Glitter, well, let's just say my heart almost stopped when Martha Stewart closed down her mail order business and I couldn't find a source for glass glitter, but then I did so they didn't have to use the paddles.
  • ribbon and Lifesaver corsages. Not technically a craft? I beg to differ: it's a craft and a cool teen age memory. Combining two list themes in one. For those of you born after the Ice Age, these would be made by your friends on your birthday and your level of popularity was based on how many you wore on your Catholic school blazer on your birthday. Did I mention that my birthday is on Lincoln's Birthday, a day off from school, so I never got any? Sigh.
  • Sit Upons. I should've started with this because my craft obsession definitely began in Girl Scouts. Where we made those sit upons. Quite a functional craft, they were made from 2 or 3 weeks of the Sunday Times, which we cut in strips and weaved, and then covered with oilcloth. Ah, the smell of oilcloth! Mine was bright yellow oilcloth (not a plastic tablecloth as some of the less savvy craft moms bought their girls) and the edges were sewed with a  heavy royal blue yarn in an overcast stitch. Oh, and I embroidered a flower with the yarn, but it scratched my butt.
  • Dyeing Easter Eggs. The colors! The vinegar smell! The waxy shells! The promise of Spring, dresses, hats, and CHOCOLATE! I am still a purist about my Easter eggs. I want the basic Pas dye kit, the little copper wire dipper, and maybe some striping by dipping each end into a different color.
  • Eating paste glue. Is this a craft? I think not, but a damn fine way to spice up a long, rainy day at school where the only thing that keeps you from closing your second grade head in the lid of your desk is the plastic container of paste glue that you are surreptiously sniffing and eating.
  • As long as we are talking about glue, how about making fake skin with Elmer's glue (told you I loved that stuff.) Just apply it all over your fingers with the nozzle, then spend a delightful hour trying to peel it all off in one piece. (Some crafts were invented in college dorm rooms if you know what I mean....)
  • What am I forgetting? Lanyards! Love the little plastic strippy things, the colors, the feel of the shiny plastic strippy things and the obsessional quality of making it longer and longer and longer and more involved as you learn more and more stitches. And practical too! I've made them at every age - as a kid, with my kids, wishing I was a kid.
  • Angels made from folded magazine pages and spray painted red and green. Very '60s.
  • Replaced in popularity at our house by the infamous Christmas wreath made from dry cleaner bags smushed together on a opened wire hanger and then spray painted green.
  • Only to be topped by wreaths made from "mag cards", or those weird cards with holes punched in them that were used in the first computers. (told you my craft lineage went back generations.)
  • Gumdrop covered styrofoam cones for Christmas trees. (Candy and craft. Enough said.)
  • The most famous Christmas craft: not cookies, not ornaments made from glass balls, but - the Christmas angel cut out of the lid of a tin can! Big in our house one year.
  • And lastly, a craft that saved out butts each year when we had to come up with gifts for our mothers, aunts, and grandmothers: the elastic loops and metal frames that produced those stretchy, multi-colored potholders. The training wheel for the sit upon.

If you were raised craft-deprived and  can't think of any kitschy crafts that you used to do, check out this site - but only after you post your list!


List Friday - Crafty Crafts for Crazed Crafters

Just a reminder - it's been a crazy week and I haven't had time to drum up my readers into the appropriate state of hysteria for the SECOND WEEKLY LIST FRIDAY !!!!!!!!!! Reach back into your childhood, remember your crazy first infatuation with the fact that your fingers could make something, project forward to the purchase of your first glue gun, and let it rip!

Otherwise - I'm back at work and consumed with tempests in teapots and petty brouhahas and mounds of paper that threaten to consume any creative thought in my head...and it's snowing.

Really, it's March, and no snow allowed. My daffodils are two inches above ground and there's lots of crocus leaves around. And now it's all encrusted with icy snow. Blech.

On the other hand, a court reporter that we love came to the office and brought 2 dozen Dunkin' Donuts. I didn't have a one. Not until 4:00 when I was pissed off that everyone else had left at 3:30 due to the weather and my unit had yet another problem and my colleague was drawing it out on the phone and suddenly I remember - carbs, grease, jelly, and sugar were alive in the kitchen. Ah. Raspberry jelly donut. Bliss. Then lead ball in stomach.

BUT - the fluffernutter is having a great time and running around, slipping and sliding on the wood floors and attacking her rope bone and rawhide bone and making us play tug of war. She's become more animated and wants to be petted constantly. Or, she wants to sleep on the bed between us like a mini polar bear. I have indulged her on the bed once or twice - but no sleeping!

We are now going to have spaghetti, which seems appropriate for a slushy late winter night. Last night we were very good and had tilapia with blood orange sauce and Yukon Gold baked potatoes and peas. Tonight we feel the need for carbs and probably a brownie mix. Thank goodness we are all walking around the block several times a day with the fluffernutter.

Tra -la  - I'm off to write my list~go write yours and meet me back here tomorrow morning. And don't you are tell me that you never did a craft in your life - that's inhuman!!!!