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EMM, Week Eight

Well folks, it's Friday and that means another episode in the continuing saga of Extreme Ma Makeover.

This week's weigh-in: lost 2.5 pounds!

How many ways can you say, "WOO-HOO?!"

That makes a loss of 13 pounds over eight weeks, and let me tell you, Ma is pretty stinkin' happy.

In addition, this 2.5 pound loss puts me below another "10" mark on the scale, a wonderful psychological boost.

I implemented a little trick this past week: eating half an apple right before bed. Got that off the web as a good way to keep the body metabolizing while you're asleep. No bad carbs or sugars, but the body keeps on burnin'. The real test will be this next week, when I'm due for another "no progresss" report (every other week has shown no change).

But enough about me, let's talk about the steak I had at Applebee's last night!

I've been working my way through the Weight Watchers or "Under 550 Calorie" selections at Applebee's. Last night was another goodie....Asiago Peppercorn Steak.

YUMMO!

And the funny part was that I ordered it cooked well done. I realize c'est très gauche in the world of fine dining, but I happen to prefer my beef with nary a moo.

ANY-way, the lovely-looking steak arrived and I cut into it, showing MUCHO red meat. As in, the outside was just browned but the inside looked completely raw.

*sigh*

I'm sure everyone knows my sanguine nature. I am the meekest of Ma's and hate to make waves, but just as George 41 said a few years ago, "This shall not stand."

The blood was in fact, running.

The waiter apologized profusely and took back my steak, saying they would make things right.

A bit later he returned and explained he was at fault. Another diner had requested the same steak, medium, and he had mixed up the orders. He assured me that the chef would be bringing out my new steak.

I spent the next 12 minutes inventing new ways to sink through the floor.

The steak arrived, piping hot, borne by the chef who looked suspiciously like the manager (hey, if I'm going to get special treatment, I'd like the imposing tall hat). She had me cut it open to check and it was only slightly pink, which as we all know, is the modern world's version of "well done."

It was quite wondrous to eat, however. I can take a little pink. I just don't like hemoglobin all over my plate.

While I'm playing Miss Restaurant Reviewer, I should also add that there was no ketchup at our table, and the waiter either forgot or didn't hear me ask for the Heinz 57. That was OK though. Our guy procured the red plastic bottle and frankly, I'm fine with my steak dipped in ketchup (I know...burnt AND with ketchup...what's to done with me?).

One might think that with all cette faux pas-ing, I wouldn't be leaving a tip. BUT, you don't know the soft-heartedness of Ma! (I would never boast of myself, but my friends claim me to be the most amiable of tippers).

I figure he can use the money for continuing education in the field of listening to what the customer wants.

Besides, it's worth it not having to cook or clean up.
 

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The Miracle of Facebook

Lookee! It's Annabelle Lynn :-)



Stole this image off Facebook, where I get most of my latest info, nowadays.

I was skeptical of joining at first, but there are times when Facebook has really come in handy. Finding out about the emergency birth of this little babe is a good example.

Within minutes of hearing it myself, I reposted, asking for prayer support which was quickly given.

Let's keep praying for little Annabelle and her mom and dad, Amy and David. As far as I know, things are continuing to progress.

Thank you for your prayers!
 

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Enroute to the library...

...or "Why I never majored in science."

An interesting conversation took place last Friday, between Trevor and myself. We were traveling down a large, open stretch, where many wind turbines had sprouted up last year. Four of the remaining five kids were in the car, but Trevor was the main one gazing in awe at the mighty white windmills. The following is a close approximation of what was spoken:

Trevor: "Wow...those are so cool!"

Ma: "Yep, and they're making electricity."

Trevor: "How does that work?"

Ma: (ut oh...getting out of my element, here) "Well....the blades go around and they generate...they make electricity and that goes to the power company."

Trevor: "So, the wind just blows them around and they make electricity?"

Ma: "Well, they are started by an electric motor, and the motor keeps them from going too fast so they don't get out of control." (we GOTTA study this in school sometime...)

Trevor: "They're making electricity, but they use it, too?"

Ma: "Yes, but they make more than they use."

*pause*

Trevor: "Can people make electricity by spinning around?"

Ma: *laughing* "Nooooo...."

Trevor: "But if you tied people onto the blades, then they would spin and make electricity..."

*blinks*

Ma: "Uhhh, no. You DON'T wanna do that.
 

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Great Aunt Becky

Yes, the proliferation of the Hoyt line continues.

My nephew David and his wife Amy, had a little girl last night :-)

Annabelle Lynn (is that not a pretty name?) was born 5 weeks early by emergency C-section, last night. She weighs 6 lb, 5 oz and is in the NICU at at hospital in Tulsa. A little fluid in the lungs and on a respirator, but I believe things are going well so far. Amy had pre-eclampsia and thus the intervention. Her blood pressure is coming down, at last report, so it sounds like things are on the mend.

This is the first grandchild for my wonderful sister-in-law, Elizabeth. A Tulsan, fine Christian lady, superb mother and storyteller extraordinaire.

Congratulations Amy, David and Elizabeth!
 

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Are we having fun, yet?

What a week. And it's only just begun.

Loren has been on the phone for hours and hours (starting last week), trying to iron out details of his new prescription plan that's connected to his new health plan. I'm going to have to start feeding him at his computer since that's where he's spending most of his time.

Oh wait, we already DO that. The kids and I eat supper in the living room, watching the Olympics, while Loren keeps the phone wires hot in between a few bites of food.

In other news, I started Trevor on his test practice book today, in anticipation of the yearly testing that is scheduled for March 22-26. I gotta say I am surprised at some of the hard vocabulary words he's been given. The situation is exacerbated by his being just a little behind in reading, thus he cannot always handle the full question or one or two of the potential answers.

Not sure if I'm going to live through this or not.

And today I must put off my afternoon nap for the sake of finishing Nolan's school, due to his reaching new heights of slackerdom. Plus I do the lunch dishes.

Oh well, once I get those two jobs down and chicken in the crockpot, I am heading off to "la-la" land.

At least it didn't snow over the weekend. That was a wonderful blessing.

See? I can be positive. It's just your imagination that I'm in a slump.
 

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The Great Tolkien Mystery

Yesterday was the every-two-months-dash-to-the-libraries-and-stores outing.

I vaguely remember living in Warsaw and taking Ardith and Sharon to the library every week.

But that was one of the trade-offs in moving out to Iowa. I knew we wouldn't have the easy access to a large library.

Now however, I'm pretty glad we can only go every two months, since it takes almost 5 hours, and that often means sacrificing the Goodwill store.

Yesterday was a fairly good day, in that we only had a couple missing from each library. In addition, I had a fine at one because I'd forgotten to renew for two days past the original due date.

But I got in their good graces by paying right up--you don't get to check out new books, otherwise--AND, they were selling off some old items, so I picked up 10-12 Boxcar Children paperbacks. On donation. I offered about $.35 per book, which made them happy as Icarus with heat resistant wings. Apparently they get more money by donation as opposed to their original pricing of $.25.

That in itself was enough to fulfill my good deed for the day, but in addition, I offered to pay for the missing Tolkien biography. No one in our family seems to remember checking it out, though it's barely possible it was me, and on a totally unrelated subject, maybe I SHOULD clean out the bedroom.

The librarians were most wonderful and said they would keep checking.

An easier solution to the problem might be moving to another state.

On the snow shoveling front, I redid the entire drive, all by my li'l ol' self, before lunch.

The official snowfall total for our area was listed at .4 inches, but there was close to 4 inches by the garage, 3 for the main drag, and around 1 out by the road.

And people wonder why I've lost my faith in humanity.

Speaking of storms that come round every Monday, would you believe we are getting another one this weekend?

Technically, we're on the edge of the storm watch designation, but there will be wind. Even a couple inches of snow will be a problem.

Thankfully, there's a comforting "drip-drip" outside. Who knows? We might melt away an inch or two before we get 4-6 more.

It's going to be a damp spring.
 

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Extreme Ma Makeover, Week Seven

No change this week.

That makes a loss of 10.5 pounds over 7 weeks.

But as someone has already said this morning, it also means no weight gain :-)

I have a little trick I'm going to implement over the next week or two. We'll see if it has any effect.

In other news, it's LIBRARY DAY.

That rare occurrence involving scrambling for books, checking off lists, driving an hour and a half, and missing my afternoon nap.

It's so much fun that we only do it every two months so we're not overcome by the absolute glee and thrill of hitting two libraries, Wal*Mart and the grocery store.

All in one afternoon.

Then there's always the fun of fixing supper, but at least I don't do the dishes tonight!
 

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Waiting for Weigh-in

It's crazy how your whole life increasingly revolves around food when you're trying to lose weight.

You're supposed to not be obsessed with food, right? That's how the whole problem started...overindulgence of the "good" stuff?

So now that you have it "under control," you find yourself looking at a hard-boiled egg with unnatural interest.

Hmmm, about 100 calories...should I? Maybe a coupla almonds, instead. Just something to curb the hunger that has set in 3 hours before supper, but not enough to majorly botch up tomorrow's pending results.

Or maybe I shouldn't be putting that sprinkling of grated cheese on my sandwich. On the one hand, I have to eat something halfway decent or I'll feel deprived and fall off the wagon. On the other hand, that 80 calories could be just the excess that slides me onto the slope of cheese evility.

Must make it through 'til tomorrow...must make it through 'til tomorrow...
 

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The Jim-Bob Olympics Report

"Good evening, and welcome to a special airing of the Jim-Bob Winter Olympics Report, coming to you from snowy Des Moines. I'm Jim McDonald and tonight we'll be cutting immediately to our man in the field, Bob MacCackle, who has another heartwarming profile of an Olympic athlete.

Bob? Where are you and what have you got for us?"

"Well Jim, I'm out here in the middle of nowhere, north central Iowa, to be exact. Now you're not gonna believe this Jim, but tonight's Olympic profile is none other than that wacky old lady, Ma Hoyt!"

"Bob...please tell me you're kidding..."

"No Jim. And until they increase my expense account to include Applebee's, I doubt I'll have the energy to come up with anything better. But this is still pretty exciting, Jim...well, maybe 'less irritating than the snowboard announcers,' would be more accurate...ANY-way, I'm here to talk with Ma Hoyt about a sport that has yet to gain official recognition."

"Wait Bob, are you telling me the profile doesn't even cover an official Olympic sport?"

"What can I say, Jim...except that I'M TIRED OF BURGERS AND FRIES. The front office knows what to do...but getting back to Ma...the spectator sport we're speaking of is Driveway Shoveling. Ma? Can you come over and give us a run through of this sport-être?"

"Sure thing Bob. Well, the whole point of driveway shoveling is to facilitate access to the road, but with as much grace and artistry as possible. Now here we have the garage...
...which as you can see with its three bays, is no picnic. Nevertheless, sections in front of each door have been cleared, with an attractive half-swan-neck approach."

"Oh...I thought maybe you just couldn't finish..."

"NO Bob, I meant to do it that way. We're talkin' sculpting and finesse. It's about so much more than mere snow removal. Now, moving on to the longer section...
...I like to call this the quarter pipe. Notice those long, clean lines down the right side? That's the kind of work that gets you extra points for style."

"Mighty pretty, Ma. I'm assuming you do that type of carving with a snowblower?"

"A snowblower, Bob...are you kidding me? Snowblowers are for wimps! This is not the girl scouts, Bobbo. The only folks I know who use snowblowers are old people and townies. You'd be surprised how those with a drive less than half this length think they need a snowblower. I'm tellin' ya, it's pathetic. No Bob, a simple snow shovel is the basic tool of our art. That, and a pick-ax."

"A pick-ax! Mercy, Ma...you've never been hurt, have you?"

Well, nothing serious, Bob. I did slip on the ice and bruise my knee once, but I've been keeping cheese on it and it feels much better."

"Bob?...Jim here, if I may cut in for a minute....Ma? Just what kind of cheese do you use for knee therapy, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Hey Jim...no problem. I started out with Havarti, but it was getting expensive so I switched over to Gouda. A few days on the ol' knee and then I buy a new slab, and palm the old stuff off on the kids for lunch."

"Whoa Ma...you let your children eat cheese that's been sitting on your knee for several days?"

"Yes Jim. But I don't tell them where it comes from. What kind of mother do you think I am? But getting back to my main man Bob, here...I don't think some people appreciate the level of difficulty with this winter's heavy snowfall. For instance, looking south, you can see that the discarded snow is taller than me.
Try heaving wet snow and ice for an hour over that baby!"

"Ooo Ma...my back's starting to spasm, just thinking about it."

"Here Bob, got some string cheese in my pocket..."

"Thanks Ma. Now, before we finish off this profile piece, I want our audience to see a shot looking east, down the length of the drive..."
"Absolutely, Bob. This is one of my favorite angles. I like to think of a FedEx or UPS driver arriving to deliver a package. The sun is close to setting. Blue-gray shadows caress the drive. In a moment of awestruck wonder, the driver stops and stares in stunned silence. His gaze sweeps the clean, fresh, lines of driveability. Remembering his duties, he drops off the package, leaving a company pen in appreciation. There's a tear in his eye and he mumbles softly, 'Thanks, ma'am. You've made my day real special.'

Hey, it could happen!"

"Alrighty Ma, I'll take your word for it. And now I'll send it back to you, Jim..."

"Great job, Ma. Uh...you too, Bob."

*turns toward audience*

"And that's all we have time for, folks. Tune in next time when we visit with Bob Costas's wardrobe consultant and ask him about those wretched ties.

Until then, thank you, and good-night.
 

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Shoveling Snow and Motherhood: Parallel Universes

Since I may flesh this out as a doctoral dissertation one day, I figure it won't hurt to jot down the main points, now.

1. Mechanical Redundancy: As in LOTS of repetitive work, performed repeatedly and after that, redone over and over and over again. Moving snow, doing laundry, washing dishes: all mind-numbing chores perfectly designed to turn you into a robot.

2. Remuneration: Non-monetary. This is always billed as more desirable than the dreaded mammon, especially by those receiving regular paychecks. It's not that we want a salary exactly, but would a 401K be completely out of the question?

3. Nausea: Cleaning up after a stomach virus or shoveling until you feel light-headed, it's all pretty much the same. And don't forget, you'll probably have to do it again (see # 1).

4. Thanks: Related to #2 but no less non-existent.

5. Finish: Ha ha, there IS no end. But we take what the vocation gives us, be it broken dryer, cracked shovel, or heartbreak.

And there you have it.

Don't think I can't find 10,000 words per chapter.
 

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It's all about power

I can see where this whole Olympics business could work out in my favor.

"What? You want to watch the Games after lunch? Well, I was thinking we need to do some cleaning first...

Or more school....

I could use help shoveling...

Say...how's about you make supper for me?"

The possibilities are endless :-D

Towards the end of my afternoon rest/nap, I heard the distinct sound of a shovel scraping across the driveway. Thinking Ethan had beat me out for chores, I hustled around and got my warmish clothes together.

There wasn't any hurry. The kids were just playing and knocking snow off the wall, a cardinal sin if there ever was one.

They were also jumping off the wall and into the large driveway drift, compacting snow for the job ahead.

When stuff like this happens, you can make them stop playing and start shoveling, or you can get ticked and refuse help and do it yourself.

I chose the latter. I'm just mature, that way.

Amazingly enough, I got through that entire two foot drift, which ran for a length of 30-40 feet, all my myself.

*smirk*

If that doesn't instill guilt in the los kiddos, I don't know what will.

More power.

More power for me.

I win.
 

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It's Here...

...or "why our lives will revolve around the Olympics for the next two weeks."

• Eating supper in the living room so we can watch events (kids might be less cognizant of what their eating, so I could potentially throw some beets or liver in there with no one the wiser...)
  
  
• Reading the nightly book at a time other than night. Fortunately we've got a great adventure in Holes, so they shouldn't mind hearing it in the afternoon.
  
  
• Taking almost an hour for kids to get the supper dishes washed, said work to be completed in commercial-sized increments....un-less there's a funny commercial...in which case it could take TWO hours
  
  
• Sudden frenzied activities out-of-doors that have an amazing likeness to Olympic events (...*make note to watch for attempts to reenact ski jumping off the roof, or the use of kitchen knives to improvise ice skates*...)
  

I think the younger kids have forgiven me for not letting them stay up past 9:30 to watch the remainder of the opening ceremony. I didn't either. Friday is movie night and I introduced Carolyn to Back to the Future (I).

A person can only take so much change in their routine.

Good thing the Olympics aren't broadcast during the morning, or we would seriously have to consider jamming school into the commercial breaks.
 

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Extreme Ma Makeover, Week Six

Well folks, I think we have a little good news to report! But first, a couple of Ma's tried and true techniques for weigh-in day.

First of all, don't eat breakfast before weighing yourself. This may seem like a no-brainer, but there are plenty of people out there who text while driving, so we can never assume everyone's thinking clearly. I've even heard there are still people who listen to disco music so, I'm just sayin'....

Do however, take care of all the morning....er, rituals. This includes blowing your nose but not, I repeat, NOT applying deodorant. That thin film could be the extra ounce that bounces you up half a pound.

And it doesn't get any prettier with large pores.

Another little trick I employ is to close my eyes and repeat hysterically, "Please be down, please be down, please be down...." in the general direction of the scale. I can't say for certain if this helps, but it surely can't hurt, and if you did it long enough...say, 24 to 48 hours, you could probably burn an extra 100 calories.

Okay then, on to the report!

...*drum roll*......

This week's weigh-in: lost 2.5 pounds :-D

That makes 10.5 pounds lost over 6 weeks.

YAY FER MA!

Plus, I exercised superhuman restraint in not checking my weight during the week.

The bad part is that according to historical precedence, the next seven days will show no change, whatsoever.

But by that time I hope to have my do-it-yourself-liposuction-procedure ready for implementation.
 

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Good News from the middle of a cornfield

I didn't have to shovel snow today!

Ethan did, instead. He enlarged the path to the drive and made a new one from the porch out to the road for our wonderful--bless his heart, he has to come so often--UPS guy.

Gotta keep things open for the delivery people.

I'm afraid more snow is on the way this weekend so I will not be shirking for long.

Loren whooped it up this afternoon by visiting the dentist. He's no slacker when it comes to excitement.

Tonight, it's off on another undate. Probably see a benign romantic comedy or something. By the time you weed out the R-rated films and stuff a certain person doesn't want to see, there's not much left.

However, I plan on a nice meal at Applebee's and two extra chocolates afterward!

Hoo-wee!

Cornfield livin', baby. Cornfield livin'.
 

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Another Day, Another Spate of Shoveling

Wasn't as bad as yesterday, though. Ethan and I finished it off in around 1.5 hours, with a little help from Trevor and Nolan whom I forced to carry snow chunks for a whole 20 minutes.

You're not a good mother unless you're making kids work against their will.

The two major drift sections had reformed, but to a lesser extent. And since the wind has died down, I believe we're safe from any future shoveling beyond the routine maintenance. Until the weekend, that is...

The piles beside the driveway are so high that Nolan and Trevor have made forts and hideaways, but I keep warning them, "If you knock more snow down into the driveway, you are clearing it yourself!"

And trust me, there's no way they can toss it out except to walk halfway down the drive and find a small opening where the snow-wall is less than two feet.
____________

Supper was a tantalizing homemade soup, old-fashioned ham and bean, homemade applesauce, and pretty-much-homemade-cornbread from a recipe off the cornmeal box.

I'm getting to be a real Rachel Ray/Martha Stewart type, except I'm old and fat and don't have helpful stock tips.

At least I still have my naps.

Speaking of fat, Friday is another weigh-in day and I've got my game plan all prepared.

I've worked hard yesterday and today, so I'm taking tomorrow off, exercise-wise. Nothing more than a moderate session on the treadmill.

Learning from last week's experience, it's NOT helpful to kill yourself (in the non-literal sense) and then weigh in the following day. Takes at least 48 hours for the murdered calories to show up. That's what I'm hoping, anyway.

If the news is bad then at least I'll have material for one of those whiny memoirs.

I've been itching to write a memoir but wasn't fortunate enough to have a bad childhood.

HOWEVER, if we get anymore snow and I get lost in the driveway, just thaw me out in front of the computer so I can get right to work.
 

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Snow Adventures with Ma

(click on pictures to enlarge)

'Twas the morning after a large snowfall, 10-11 inches, to be exact. As our lover-of-naps awoke, she wondered what this day would bring.

The drift-buster, for one! Oh joy, if the driveway be shoveled, the road may be traversed :-)


Speaking of which, the path from the garage looked quite impassable.

Twenty-eight inches of frozen impediment.

As our brave heroine took a quick walkabout, she glanced up at the sickly sun.
Verily it did mock and laugh at her, "Clear the drive? HA!"

Was our intrepid Ma dismayed? Well, maybe just a little...

A four-foot drift loomed in front of the house.


Even the arborvitae wept.


The juncos, however, seemed pleased as ever.
Another storm or two, and they won't have to fly to the feeders.

Looking southeast, a veritable frozen sea.
Ma was thankful she didn't need to shovel the fields.

Humility prevents our seeing pictures of the mighty labors of our faithful matron and her sons. Nevertheless, if she had any friends, they would indeed laud the efforts put forth throughout the day. Many muscles gave their all to move masses of perfidious powder.

Ethan-the-magnificent cleared the entire area in front of the modest garage.


Ma cleared much of the straightaway, though she was aided by Ethan and Nolan, the latter of whom was conscripted into service.

She hopes additional snowfalls will not ensue, as it's getting right tricky throwing the white stuff o'er top the leftward pile.

Tonight, Ma and son bask in the knowledge that they have removed all the snow, without the aid of neighbors or mechanical devices.

Meanwhile, the wind whistles along the ground, promising more work on the morrow.

And that's all,

of Snow Adventures with Ma.
 

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Even the Eagle Left

 

Probably heard I was recruiting snow shovelers.

That picture's fuzzy because I was taking it through a north window, desperately trying to find a place with the least amount of dirt.

I knew there was no way I could sneak up on him by going outside, besides, there is snow on the ground.

Speaking of snow, I figure we've gotten at least 6 inches overnight and today, with just light to moderate snow. It was steady however, and the winds had started drifts in the driveway.

Ethan and I went out at noon and cleared the worst drift and the straightaway.

After lunch, I tackled the section in front of the garage, all by my li'l ol' self.

The hope being, that clearing the snow that was drifting from the southeast, will help when the wind turns opposite and drifts things over from the north.

It may seem meaningless, but I figure it had to be better getting my exercise with fruitless shoveling than spending pointless time on the treadmill going nowhere.

There's a less-on in there somewhere, ha ha and yes, I know that is quite lame. But I figure one should be well-rounded. Best to be lame in mind as well as body. And after the additional 3-6 inches overnight and wind tomorrow, there should be sore muscles and lameness to last a few days.
______________

I do have good news as far as Nolan is concerned: he was able to maintain his game limit on Friday and thus secure the succor of full game time for the weekend. It involved mucho checking by me-o but he seems to be trying to abide by the rules. I'm wearing a path in the stairs, running up and down to check on him.
______________

On the supper front, "a pleasing medley of rice, hamburger, black beans and spaghetti sauce."

Every so often I like to look in the larder and just pick out some haphazard stuff. Especially after I discovered I had no spaghetti noodles.

Of course, most of the kids hate black beans but it hardly seems my fault if the heavens opened up and a light shone down upon the can of frijoles negros sitting quietly on the store shelf.

And anyway, no one can prove differently, which if I'm not mistaken, falls under the symbolic logic argument of ad hominem hectoratum, or as they say in English:

"Na, na-nuh, boo, boo."

 

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Coolest bird around
 

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On Snow and Computers

 


I was running an errand to the local hamlet when I spied a small herd of pheasants in a snowy field. Since no one was coming, I stopped, rolled down the passenger side window and snapped.

That would be "snapped a picture," as opposed to going postal. I did however, drop two letters in a large, blue box, so we can't completely preclude the berserko part.

This Saturday morning is the first in our new computer rule regimen. The kids are banned until 10:00 unless you're someone like Melinda who never plays games.

It's quite funny to see them wandering around the house, pretending they're not at a loss.

("Mommy, since you won't let us go on the computers yet, maybe we could watch something...?

"Ha.")

There is good news to report for Nolan's sake. He was able to abide by the limits of Friday and is now entitled to the renewal of his gaming privileges. It is hoped his experience will cause him to be most fastidious in adhering to the timer.

In weather news, I'm debating whether to hit the stores today. Monday promises some snow, followed by wind and blowing snow on Tuesday.

This business of controlling the storms by shopping is getting pretty tricky, but if I have to go four days per week, then I am not one to shirk my duty.
 

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The EMM Report: Stalled, With a Touch of Bitters

All mincing aside, there was no obvious progress, causing the average to look pretty mean.

The Extreme Ma Makeover report: zero lost this week, an overall loss of 8 pounds in 5 weeks.

Oh I know what happened. All that pick ax work brought on an increase in muscle mass. At least, that's what people always say when they're trying to make you feel good but thinking to themselves, "Ha, I knew she couldn't do it."

One thing's for sure, NO COCKTAIL SMOKIES FOR MA this Sunday!

Nothing to do but keep plugging along and hope I don't end up looking like Chuck Norris.

I probably lost inches. Yes, that's it....oodles and oodles of inches. I'll just go upstairs and try on my old swimsuit right now. Oh wait....forgot that I BURNED it several decades years ago, along with the Rand McNally maps based on my varicose veins.

Relatively certain I can fit into my socks from last year, though.

Man, you gotta love growin' old.
 

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The Good, the Bad, and the Achy

Thanks go out to Billy Ray What's-his-name for the definitive spelling of "achy."

Couldn't find it on dictionary.com so I did the next best thing and consulted country music, that bastion of civility and urbane....stuff.

On to the good:

--got school done in decent time

--hacked away at the driveway for pert near 2.5 or more hours, not all in one session. Made significant progress in widening the curve and the rest of the main drive. Also leveled off a few raised ruts. These ruts occurred when we had our only thaw, creating deep slush that I got stuck in going to church. The ruts quickly refroze, becoming two tracks in which to align the wheels. The ice is pervasive and it has been annoying.

On the bad:

Having significant problems getting Nolan to pay attention to his computer game time limits. After the halcyon days of Christmas vacation and little supervision, Ma re-instigated the rules, even buying an extra timer.

The problem is, he ignores the beeping timer and just keeps playing. So I've decreased his total time by 15 minutes for several days in a row, and tomorrow he has a grand total of 30 instead of the original 75. And I told him that if he blows it tomorrow, he is nixed from game time for the entire weekend. 'Twould be a fell blow, since the allowance is at a premium on Saturday and Sunday.

On the achy:

The pick ax is a fine invention for clearing ice, but is somewhat lacking in the area of promoting non-sore muscles.

I foresee more lovely pain medication as well as mucho resto tomorrowo.

And Friday being weigh-in day, I sincerely hope there is something worthwhile to report after all my labors this week.

Only 12 more hours and we'll know...
 

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Ma's (Ho Hum) Literary Corner

Ho hummy, because that's been today. Again. But one should always remember that compared to a comet hitting the house, it's been pretty rockin' fabulous, aujourd'hui.

So there.

As for the rest of the post, if you're not much into books, more particularly, juvenile literature, you may well stop right now. This won't be at all interesting. In fact, it'll be downright ho hum...I'd skip it if I were you.

And now, on the bookish side of things, I was about to say that Shel Silverstein is a children's writer.

However, once I looked him up on the web, just to be sure I didn't make some gross misstatement, I discovered he passed away in 1999 from a heart attack. So in truth, he isn't a children's author, he was a children's author.

I think some of the kids are going to be disappointed.

Anyway, he wrote quite a few lyrics for songs, some of which wouldn't be suitable for children, and others of which were nominated for awards in relation to motion pictures. Guess we can't say he was "just" a children's author, either.

Ever heard of the song, A Boy Named Sue ?

Written by Silverstein.

How well I remember this from a Johnny Cash album one of my older siblings had brought home.

Then there's The Unicorn, made famous by The Irish Rovers. You'll be showing your age if you remember THAT one :-)

Another favorite of mine, I'm Being Swallowed by a Boa Constrictor, which I heard on a Peter Paul and Mary album.

The most memorable for the kids and I has been his book, Runny Babbit: a Billy Sook. As you can ascertain, it exchanges beginning letters for a capital bit of fun wordplay.

And he wrote a host of other items, but I think you get the drift. A penchant for the offbeat and weird, with a down-to-earth twist.

Last night, I finished reading Shel's book, Don't Bump the Glump! and Other Fantasies, to the children. We had some good laughs. Me, most of all. Following are a few of the choicer tidbits:

THE FLYING FESTOON

I am going to ride on the Flying Festoon,
I'll jump on his back and I'll whistle a tune,
And we'll fly to the outermost tip of the moon,
The Flying Festoon and I.

Oh, I'm taking some crackers, a ball and a prune,
And we're leaving this evening precisely at noon,
For I'm going to fly with the Flying Festoon,
Just as soon as he learns how to fly.

GUMPLEGUTCH

Go over and play with the Gumplegutch, Tommy,
The Gumplegutch loves to play.
You may bounce on his belly
And call him old Nelly
And fill up his nostrils with clay.
Don't be afraid of his fangs
Or that one yellow eye
Or the scales on his tail, my dear.
Go over and play with the Gumplegutch, Tommy,
There's nothing at all to fear.

I'll wait for you here.

SQUISHY SQUASHY STAGGITALL

When
Singing songs of
Scaryness,
Of bloodyness
And hairyness,
I-feel-obligated-at-this-moment-to-remind-you
Of-the-most-ferocious-beast-of-all,
Six thousand tons,
And nine miles tall,
The Squishy Squashy Staggitall...
That's standing right behind you.

That last one was particularly effective on Nolan and Trevor who IMMEDIATELY swiveled their heads around in unison to look behind them.

I think its nice to read comforting stories and poems to the kiddos right before bed, don't you?

Shel Silverstein, Don't Bump the Glump! and Other Fantasies,(New York:Harper Collins Publishers,1992)
 

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Another Decent Day

Let's just say it got better towards the end.

Schooling starts first, after treadmill and breakfast. But it's getting to the point where I am quite antsy sitting with the two youngest boys. Whether it's going through the flashcards or listening to someone read, or explaining something again that I thought they knew....I find it harder and harder to remain patient. Instead, I have this overwhelming urge--so far stifled--to say, "Come on, COME ON! YOU KNOW THIS!" or rather, "You HAVE to know this or I'm going to be held responsible!"

It all seemed a lot easier 10 years ago. But at least there aren't toddlers running around or babies to be nursed, so I do have that going for me.

The morning time of torture ended, Ethan and I went out to clear the driveway. Judging by the snow and the surrounding town totals, we received 3 inches. Just enough to need shoveling, particularly with a bit of wind.

Upon coming indoors, I had Ethan and Nolan study their Latin numbers and take a quiz...both got all right! (if only I could make up the ITBS)

After a stunning lunch of leftovers--and doing the dishes--I headed back outside with pick ax and snow shovel. It was time for some heavy duty travail on the driveway ice and frozen slush.

Ma started widening the drive yesterday, and at the conclusion of this afternoon's 90-minute workout, most of bad stuff is done.

I'm feeling pretty done, too. Oh, did that hot bath feel good! But even better was donning nice dry clothes and crawling under the covers for 35 minutes. A little short, afternoon nap-wise, but certainly better than nothing.

Ibuprofen and acetaminophen, take me away!

Finally became completely warm while wrapped up in a quilt, watching the news, and then...

...then it was off for another nostalgic trip down Susy Homemaker lane, to make cookies. Yes, Ma made--and is STILL making--cookies!

Carolyn came into the kitchen and declared, "I don't think I've ever seen you make cookies!"

It's true. I tend toward the more time efficient methods of brownies, cookie bars, and pulling ice cream out of the freezer.

Discovered a distinct disadvantage with the whole cookie concept, however. The batter is available a WHOLE LOT LONGER for snitching purposes.

But I figure I've still got another 45 minutes of killer deicing activity to work with.

Now, where are those drugs...
 

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It's Still Winter

I know this because it is snowing outside, even as we luxuriate in the warmth of our large farmhouse-on-the-prairie.

And earlier, I was having mucho funno in the driveway with a pick ax and snow shovel. Endeavoring to widen the path betwixt drift and van.

Once or twice we came perilously close to sideswiping an older vehicle with a slightly less older vehicle. I won't tolerate this kind of near-collision of gerontological hunks of metal.

It's hard on the mental health of us elderly people. And besides, the complaints of certain people have not fallen on deaf ears.

But getting back to the softly falling flakes, looks like Ethan and I will be in for your basic snow shoveling, tomorrow. At least there wasn't much wind.

Isn't it lucky I went shopping on Saturday and forestalled another blizzard?

Despite our longing for spring, the season does provide beauty...
...particularly if you're partial to blues and whites.

That is my little Poplar of ditch-rescue fame. Still alive, despite the best intentions of ice and ornery boys.

By the calendar, only six weeks left of winter. Yes, I KNOW we can't be sure of that until tomorrow, but I'm not buyin' it. Don't have much faith in Punxutawney Phil, myself.

As far as I'm concerned, he's just a punk rodent with a cushy job working one day per year.

Let him come test his chompers on my drive...then we'll talk.
 

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