I Got My Chance, and I Said Those Things... Still...

I started a new job yesterday. I'm pleased about it... my first REAL position after grad-school and licensure and all that... I'll share more with you about it after I get more settled.

This morning I drove down to our B-burg office. The weather was beautiful on that twisty little trail, with the sun peeking though the trees. I drove that road fairly often in the "before" days, before I left sales, before I lost my drive to sell, before the whole world changed. I smiled, remembering.

Then, this song came through the radio. Actually a pretty good driving/singing song:

Stop reading, just listen a minute, please.

I love this song. I sang along.

Then I remembered: I could never get through it without tears. I've tried four times today... still can't.

I don't know when the song actually came out. I first took note of it about 6 months after Deat's death.

Did I say...

It isn't even appropriate; I've always been comforted in knowing we  had nothing left unsaid.

Maybe its the futility of those words now. Did I say... Maybe it's that I'll never get to say them to him again... Did I say... though when I hear them in the song they're just as true now as they ever were.

Did I say...

I certainly didn't expect the song to impact me that way, today. It's been almost five years.

Maybe for all my bravado about starting to date, part of me still scowls, and sees futility in that: I know what combination of traits once brought me joy and met my needs, is it possible that different one could even begin to come close?

I don't know. Hiding out at home hasn't done much for me. We'll see.

But I sure do miss the one I had.

Perhaps I just needed to know, or just say out loud, that I always will.

Don't Let the Pigeon...

What is it about the mildly obscure reference that makes it so much more amusing? You know the jokes I mean, the ones that make you laugh, not only because of the humor behind them, but because of the feeling that you're one of only a certain group who will truly "get" the joke.

I used to think there was a bit of elitism to it, "I'm one of this group, you're not, ha ha," but as I get older, I believe it's not the EX-clusion of others, but the IN-clusion of the group that makes it all the more fun.

These references take on two similar, yet different, forms: the popular/public culture form, and the "I get it because I was there" form.

We turned off the cable TV around here years ago, so, with a little help from Amazon, I only recently learned how to properly use "Bazinga" in a sentence. Luckily, a few years ago memes came along: they were quick, funny, and offered me some inclusion despite my busy schedule: parenthood and illness just didn't allow me to stay informed: Ain't nobody got time for that! (sorry, had to be done... Harold, Heather, there's your shout-out.)

Also, parenthood offers it's own culture. For example, I know who this guy is:

Do you know this guy? No? Well you can go look him up,
just like I have to do, on the actual, "hip" pop culture references...

Wait! Are things "hip," "cool," "boss," or something else, nowadays?

He's more important later...

Your References

Anyway, the "I get it because I was there" kind... I try to give that to you  guys. I make internal references and link to them... old posts, people, etc. I keep hoping this will inspire a cult following. It hasn't worked so much for me, but, from my stat counters I can tell that the MC (see labels on the right) had his own fan club for a time there.

I also notice my life sometimes runs in themes, so I try to share and label those for you, too. See how good I am to you people? Today, I'm even, once again, putting the laundry off for you!

You may have noticed, (no you didn't, who am I kidding?) that the newest label added to the group is "Pets and Animal Oddities". You may have believed that label originated in the recent Pre-Teen Titan or Hedgehog Harassment posts. (Oh dear God, somebody stop me I'm obsessed with linking!) 

Actually, the theme began a couple months ago with her:

You have to imagine her smaller and much scrawnier.

The Cat and The Cookies

This little creature started hanging out on my back porch in late November. I got tired of tripping over Sophie the Wonder Dog's food bowls, so I told the girls that we'd have to leave Sophie's food outside... which above creature took as an invitation to partake. I really didn't mind, she was so skinny, if she needed to eat, let her. I was sure Sophie would run her off, soon. Taking a note from B.B.'s reading homework, we started referring to her as Amelia Bedelia.

Why did you have to be there? On the second Sunday in December every year, we host our annual Cookie Party... an all-day affair. While once small, the Cookie Party now includes invites to all the theatre babies and their families, resulting in some 50 or so of our friends, adults and children, over the course of the day. We spend the early afternoon cutting out, baking and decorating cookies until the kids get bored (somewhere during the second batch) then spend the rest of the afternoon hanging out, chatting, kids playing, until early evening when we order pizzas for whomever is left. (This year we needed 8 pizzas.) 

The house is full; the atmosphere is insane. It's my very favorite day of the year! 

This is actually from one of the tamer parties from years past.
You get the idea...

Every year some private jokes emerge that last a month or two, some endure. Travis will never live down burning out my mixer one year. This year produced the Jonathan Action Figure, "This is Danny and He's a Free Agent." and The Cat That Invaded. 

See how sweet and timid that little face above looks? Not so. Every time the back door opened, she was trying to get in. 

"Kelly, is  your cat allowed in?"

"No, catch her, that's not my cat."

"Kelly, where did you get that pretty cat on the porch?"

"I don't know, that's not my cat. She just likes to hang out here."

"Why does B.B. call her 'Amelia'?"

"Uh, because that's what, I, uh,  named her."

Knowing look and nod. (I hate those!)

Around late afternoon, despite SIX people sitting around the kitchen table, she managed to GET ON TOP of said table and sample a little bit of the frosting from several bowls and the tops of several cookies remaining there. Heather spotted her, grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and with definite prejudice, unceremoniously dumped her out the door.

"Kelly, your cat ruined all the leftovers."

"THAT'S NOT MY CAT!"

"Somebody needs to tell her that."

In the following weeks I got several queries as to how the "cat that was not mine" was doing. Har de har har.

At Christmas break, as we were leaving to go visit family, I warned the girls that she would likely be gone upon our return. Sophie would be traveling with us, and Sophie's absence would also mean the absence of Sophie's food; I told the girls I felt sure the cat would find another family, though. After all, she was agreeable and started purring the second a person picked her up... who wouldn't love her? I mean, I could manage not to love her... but others would fall prey to those sweet little, precious little charms... AHEM!

When we returned, I had to issue a Facebook release and eat my words:

Just in case anyone missed Miss G.'s contribution to the thread... see below.

Sigh. God (with Miss G.'s help) decided we needed a cat.

The Fish 

And with that little inch came the Hedgehog mile. I told P.D. a couple days ago that if she could save up and pay for it, along with all the supplies, she could have her beloved hedgehog. 

I forgot that Miss B.B. saves all her birthday money and had quite a stash in place. Enough to get a whole fish starter tank going. Enough that, in the interest of fairness, we tromped out to Walmart last night to get supplies to get the aquarium started and will be tromping out tonight to get the fish to live in it. 

B.B. initially wanted to put the fish in her room, but I put the kibosh on that. (Since I'm obviously so good at setting limits around here.) She complained, how would anyone know that they were HER fish?

Problem Solved!

The Joke's on Who?

It would seem the girls are fairly innocent in all this, wouldn't it? It would seem all these additions are happy accidents; who knew Danny and Miss G. would turn out to be such great allies? It might even seem that they don't realize the distress I would naturally feel at going from merely Sophie the Wonder Dog, to a soon-to-be-four-animal household.

Here's where you kind of have to be a parent and kind of have to be "in-on" the joke. As my girls, B.B. in particular, apparently are, and have been, "in-on" this joke the whole time. 

Yesterday, B.B. brought home her "Don't Let the Pigeon" assignment from her first grade class.

(Aside, to Miss J., as promised, lots and lots of pictures)

Hedgehog Harassment

Today's post is something new to JKH, a Facebook-Text Message-Drawing media extravaganza, with very little actual writing on my part.

Warning: this post will be difficult to view on a phone.

I only want to record a fraction of the campaign waged against me and my wishes. If I give in, you'll know I made a valiant effort against the tide... I say "only a fraction" because I could only screenshot my text messages with Danny back to the 13th...

It started innocently enough...

Thursday January 10
Mode: Facebook

Friday & Saturday, January 11 & 12

Filly can attest, I got numerous harassing texts on Friday... mostly referring to a hedgehog as a "little precious" à la Gollum. (Important later) Saturday was so crazy I don't think either of the Hedgehog team was on task.

Sunday, January 13

Mode: Facebook

The actual video is below... and yeah, the little sucker IS indescribably cute. (be strong, be strong...)

Monday, January 14

Mode: Text

And on Facebook: 

She's either gonna be a salesperson, a lawyer or a carnival barker...

Tuesday, January 15

Mode: Text Messaging

(For reference, see "Pre-Teen Titan")

Mode: HOMEWORK?

And fnally, the pièce de résistance also happened to fall in the correct order chronologically. P.D. brought home her most recent English assignment yesterday evening, an illustrated poem.

Haiku de Hedgehog

Cold Hedgehog in sock

Hiding, waiting for snow's end

Shivering, sleepy

That Just Ain't Right

More catch ups to do for my regular readers... luckily, for readers/friends who already know these "catch up" stories, I may or may not have some new stuff to tie it up in.

Back when I started this blog, I imagined that by this far out, (almost 5 years), I would  either:

a.) Be so entrenched in new-life stuff, the significance of my widowhood would be a faint memory or
b.) Still be so paralyzed by grief I wouldn't get out at all, or ever again. (the idea of the "b." option usually coincided with "One of Those Nights".)

Neither extreme is true. Deat's death, but moreso, his LIFE, still colors my perspective in a myriad of ways. That's okay, both for my life and within the context of this blog. I still hold out the hope that if another widow or widower reads this blog, she or he might find comfort in the kinship of experience. Fewer posts are based around issues of widowhood, but that's okay. It shows that life does go on.

All that said, time to do a catch up and broach a significant topic in widowhood: 

I  WENT  OUT  ON  A  DATE! 

(Err... at least I thought I did). Let me back up and explain.

One of the blessings Deat left me was his friends: not only the ones I knew well but the ones I didn't know at all. One of the latter was a lady from his college days named Georganna. She and I have yet to lay eyes on one another. We "met" on Facebook and through our mutual love for Deat, just kinda "adopted" one another. She's kind, generous with her time and resources, and fantastically funny. 

Back at the beginning of November, George and I were Facebook chatting about the dating scene and how our married friends wanted to see each of us attached to a good man... without considering the lack of acceptable, eligible men asking us out...

Me: LOL! Some of my friends were lecturing me on how I need to date.

I asked them if they knew anyone they liked well enough to set me up with, they said no... 

I said "I rest my case"

George: EXACTLY

wait...

wait...

How old are you?


At this point, I realize what's going on, and I nearly swallow my non-nicotine, but, up until that point in the conversation, relatively-comforting, gum.

Info from George: His name is Danny and he lives RIGHT HERE NEAR ME... He's a great guy... He doesn't have kids but he's great with kids... He's a Great Guy... He's younger than me... He's a GREAT GUY... She used to date him but the distance was just too much so now they're just good friends... HE'S A GREAT GUY...

George: Girl, I called him, I'm on the phone with him right now.

I coughed so hard I spit my non-nicotine and not-even-a-little-comforting-anymore gum across the room.

After some more back-and-forth with George, he and I "friended" one another on Facebook and had a short  instant-message (IM) conversation... mostly about the stuff we were seeing on one another's pages.

The following day (a Friday) at about 6, Danny said hello again via IM. After a few minutes, he suggested we meet.

Danny: Are you free later? Maybe for a game of pool? Tho, I'm sure you will win lol
Nothing major.....just to hang out for a few... if you don't wanna, I understand. No pressure. 

(Nice, considerate invitation, right?)

Me: Geez, I would love to, but I don't have a babysitter!

(Farther along in the conversation)

Danny: "A" for effort, that was you TRYING to trash talk...  When we play, I'll only use half a Q & still win. 

Me: In. your. dreams.

Danny: Lol... We'll play 8 ball, I'll spot you 5 balls.... That way I might get a challenge out of you.

Me: (Dialing babysitter)

Danny: See, trash talk

Me: Son, I will roll over you like a Mack Truck

Danny: Awe....I'll roll over alright, roll over n let you win.

Me: Oh, and you ain't gotta spot me a dang thing! Do you KNOW who you're talking to?

The guy barely knew me, but already knew me: if you really want to get me out of the house, get my dander up. We met at the local bowling alley, the only place I could think of with pool tables.

How did it go? Let's just say I didn't use the rack much that night. I considered not telling how it went, to spare Danny any FURTHER embarrassment... but I think it's a good lesson:  don't knock my game, dude.

After Danny got tired of getting beat we got tired of playing, he suggested we go eat. By that time, I felt comfortable with him so I left my car at the bowling alley and rode with him. I ate dinner earlier with the girls so I had a milkshake while he ate. (Yes, it was within my Weight Watchers points... well, sort of...).

We talked, and talked, and talked and talked. (He would say I did, but he'd be lying. He helped. A LOT.) I tried not to talk  about Deat too much, but Danny seemed completely comfortable even when I did mention him. We talked about how, from experience, I felt that "friends-first" made the best relationships. We talked a lot about faith and trying to follow the Bible... and how those issues come into play when dating. (On the mental list of what I want, a man who loves God, CHECK!) 

I really, really enjoyed myself. When we got back to my car, he walked me to it and gave me a hug goodbye.

Whew! Yes, I've been out a few other times since Deat's death... I'd been kissed.  But, I'd known 2 of them for about 20 years each and the other one for at least 6 years. The idea of kissing somebody REALLY NEW kinda freaked me out.

A couple nights later,  I was back at the bowling alley, playing pool with the girls and some of my theatre babies... Danny sent me a text and I invited him to join us. Again, had a great time. Again, he hugged me bye. Another bullet dodged... but I'm starting to sweat it. 

(What if I actually like this guy more than as just an excuse to get out of the house*... What if he likes ME? What if sometime soon he decides he WANTS to kiss me? What do I do, then?)

The following week Danny called and we went to lunch on his day off. We were again talking about relationships and he said that he felt the best move he could make for himself at that time was to stick to just friendships. He said he felt that staying away from romantic relationships was what he needed.

 (Wait, did I just get friend-zoned? You mean he DOESN'T want to kiss me? Why the heck not? I'm cute, kinda, sorta, maybe. Well, darn it, I USED to be! If I was him, I'd want to kiss me... SHEESH!)

He was right. (Danny, if you're reading this, don't get used to me saying that. For the most part, everyone knows you just ain't right...) Oh, and he's AWESOME! Just ask him** 

We've developed a pretty great little friendship. He's my male perspective with no pressure. I like to think I'm his sounding board, too. If I'm not, well, then he just talks too much. It also frees things up for him to come "hang out" with the girls and me. It's okay that my girls love Danny. I very rarely "break up" with a friend, so they get to keep THEIR friend, too. 

(Unfortunately, he and P.D. have joined forces on the hedgehog campaign... but that's another post.)

And finally, I've wondered, if I started dating fairly regularly... do I have to write about each and every one I go out with? Not now, I don't. 

Danny is a pretty entertaining all by himself, and I already got his permission to talk about him in the blog. He'll keep ya'll amused enough that I may or may not tell you about Donny (yes, I used their real names. I can't make this stuff up).

 'Cause kissing (OR not kissing) and telling, well that just ain't right. 

* Danny's gonna read this. That's me, trash-talkin'.

** Sarcasm alert

Pre-teen Titan?

P.D. is a funny kid. If she wants something, she researches it and collects all the facts to decide whether and how much she truly wants it. By the time she presents it to me, she knows her subject inside and out. 

She's been pondering unusual pets since before Christmas. For a some time, she wanted a breed of turtle called a Red-eared Slider. She filled me with enough facts and trivia that if someone brought me one, I'd not only recognize it; I could diagnose any ailments it might have.

Recently, her interest has turned to hedgehogs.

Conversation this morning before school:

P.D.: They start hissing and panting to warn you if you handle them too much. If I got a hedgehog I would name him, "Kraken".

Me: Okay, I'll bite, why "Kraken"? I thought you just said hedgehogs weren't very aggressive?"

P.D.: "Because then if one of B.B.'s friends came over and wouldn't put him down, I could say...

"RELEASE THE KRAKEN!"

(I can totally see that face at 1:28 on P.D. if they didn't listen...)

Instant Gratification

Oooh the cobwebs were even worse this time!

Soooo I took a blog sabbatical (Blobatical?) for various reasons, but now I'm back and hopefully will write/post with some consistency for a bit. The source of my return? Well, that started with Kirk*. Kirk became involved with the Treehouse Poets Series (at the Treehouse Cafe and Bakery, thus the name) and it piqued my interest, so in December I grabbed an old poem and went.

(On a side note, on that first night I went outside to talk with some folks and smoked two Marlboro full-flavor menthol cigarettes while chatting. Yeah, I know. Don't worry, it bit me. I ended up having to go to a gas station and throw up... and it still took me another couple hours before I felt well enough to drive back to L-town. Serves me right, I guess...)


Smoking fiasco aside, I had a good time. Everyone I met was very welcoming; I heard some very talented writers speak, and several made kind comments about my poem as well. I decided I'd go back.

As the date for the next poetry night neared, I realized I was either going to need to go dig old notebooks out of storage or get poetry inspiration and write one quickly to have an offering. I remembered that at the previous get together one author read a sample of his fiction instead of poetry, and it occured to me: I have ALL kinds of samples of my writing RIGHT HERE. So I read blog entries.

A scene from the Treehouse Poets Series #4. Or, in the interest of offering quality entertainment, "Where's Waldo?" only 1. Without Waldo and 2.With me and 3. I'm not wearing the goofy hat. G'head, click the picture.

To introduce the blog and the original theme, I chose to print out and read "Answers" (which, at least, ends on something of  an "up" note) and "One of Those Nights" (which, decidedly, does not). As I finished reading and looked out at the now-somber faces in the crowd, I realized I had made some fairly gut-wrenching selections... and I was the last speaker slated. I hated the idea of the night ending on such a sorrowful note. Luckily, Travis found a couple more readers (both excellent).

The one other issue eating at me was the idea of leaving the audience with the impression that I might still be in the dark place from "One of Those Nights." I had noticed several authors reading from their phones, so called up JKH on my phone and raised my hand to read just one more selection: "Dealing with Frustration in a Therapuetically and Nutritionally Sound Manner".

And suddenly, something magical happened... they were laughing... in all the right places!

What.     a.     Rush.

It was so great, I can't even come up with an appropriately humorous and hyperbolic simile for intoxication to try and illicit the standard appropriately cheap chuckle that should go right here!

Don't get me wrong, I love writing for you people but as I've told you before, I crave your comments, your reactions to what I write. I am now in love with every single person attending the Treehouse Poets Series who offered me those exhilarating morsels of merriment...

Sigh... I believe I'll be "jonesin'" for them until next month!

As I returned to my seat to bask in the joy of the moment, the second part of my motivation for using blog entries happened: someone asked me to repeat my blog address. And someone else. And someone else... And Travis put it on the Treehouse Poets Series Facebook page. I have to write regular posts now, or let them down.

Luckily, I have lots to catch my regular readers (if they come back) up on. I started to do all the catch-ups in one post, but I might need material until the next interesting thing happens... and with all the link jumping, this post is confusing enough!

Thanks Treehouse Poets, you're helping me breathe new life into this old blog!

*Who is Kirk? Kirk is someone better explained after much more alcohol than I plan on ever consuming at one sitting again... :-P

Um, No Pressure...

Holy cow holy cow holy cow! I have to type fast, I've just been PUBLICIZED!!!! Longer post coming later today, just got to have SOMETHING current on here!