Friday, March 28, 2008

Negotiating the Perfect Vacation



You can blame it on my daughter who took her time deciding on what colors she wanted to feature in her wedding. Because of this, I decided to take matters into my own hands when it came to the mother-of-the-bride dress and I began to frequent Ebay for good deals on fancy dresses. OK, I also shopped the sales at stores here and I must say, I came up with some super outfits -- all of which were bargain priced. I soon had a closet full of "special occasion" dresses in various colors. I was hedging my bets, hoping that at least one would go with the colors she would eventually pick for her bridesmaids' outfits and the wedding flowers.

Eventually we hit the jackpot because she went with a deep eggplant purple and I got to wear one of my favorite outfits from my closet. This was not before several people had made the comment to me that George and I might as well go on a cruise because I now had plenty of outfits to wear onboard a ship. Listen, you don't make comments like that to obsessive-compulsive people! It doesn't take long before a flippant comment takes root in my brain and soon grows into a full-fledged, all-or-nothing, "let's do it" obsession.

So I've been launching opening "cruise" salvos across George's bow for several months now with no discernable effect. He has just continued to sail solidly along on his normal course with no attempt to change direction. Imagine my surprise then when he casually mentioned the fact that we were going to get a tax refund this year and that he thought it might be nice to use it for a cruise. You could have sunk me with a feather! Not to worry though. My natural buoyancy soon had me righted and my mind was off and sailing to at least a hundred ports of call.

That was the easy part. Now we are in the negotiating stage. Where will we cruise? When will we cruise? What type of cruise do we want to take? I rather liked the idea of a Canadian/Maritime Provinces cruise. My reasoning was that it would be gorgeous in the fall but more importantly, we wouldn't be too far from any coastline in case of trouble. Hey, I'd see the movie "Perfect Storm" and you don't watch something like that with an imagination like mine without it affecting you. I couldn't even watch the movie "Titanic." I wasn't alone. As a friend of mine says, "Boat sails, boat hits ice, boat sinks, people die. What's to watch?" My sentiments exactly. To put it another way, who wants to invest emotional energy watching people cavorting around knowing that most of them will be dead by the end of the movie? Not me! So I'm a little leery of ships that go out into the really deep water.

When I suggested a Canadian cruise to George, his response was "We've already traveled to the Maritime Provinces. Why would we want to go there again?" I thought about this. To be fair, I don't like reading books or seeing a movie a second time. Maybe this was a similar quirk. OK, a Canadian cruise was out.

I did some sleuthing on the internet and discovered a gem of a cruise. There was going to be a special interest cruise through the Panama Canal with an added land tour in Peru with stops at Machu Picchu. These were places I had learned about in my beloved archaeology classes in college. But even better yet, the cruise was a "knitting cruise." Yup, they would be offering knitting classes onboard and special trips to alpaca farms in Peru. Wow! This was fantastic. What could be better than a 12-day Stitch and Chat session with like-minded knitters? I showed the itinerary to George and waited for his response. It didn't come. I looked over at him and noticed that his eyes seemed to be glazed over. In fact, he looked to be in distress.

"Heartburn, Honey?" I asked.

"I'm NOT going on a ship that's filled with knitters," he sputtered. Scratch that cruise.

A family friend had gone on a Christian music cruise and had loved it. George and I both love gospel music and a theme cruise like that wouldn't be bad. There was only one sticking point. I really wanted a chance to learn some dances on a cruise. Since George doesn't want to dance, I had read that there are usually cruise staff available on ships to partner travelers who wanted to take dancing classes but didn't have a dancing partner. Somehow I didn't think there would be salsa dancing on a gospel music cruise despite the fact that David certainly danced up a storm in the Scriptures even going so far as to throw off his clothes and dance naked. Now I wasn't planning to disrobe while dancing although I have been known to get up and dance on tables in my heyday but I really wanted to learn some moves beyond "stand and shuffle."

Since we seemed to be "dead in the water," (ooh, bad choice of words) I decided today to go over to the local AAA and pick up some cruise brochures. They're sitting on our dining room table right now waiting for the next installment of "pick the perfect vacation." On Sunday, we'll be visiting a big travel show and that should give us some more ideas. Somewhere out there is the perfect vacation for the two of us where George can relax and check his email while sipping his Shirley Temple and watching the waves slide by and I can sit in a quiet lounge area out of the wind and knit to my heart's content.

Monday, March 24, 2008

Feeding My Obsessions

It all started innocently enough. I just wanted my husband to show me how to put a button link on my blog. That led to a decision to redo the format a little.....spruce it up a tad, if you will, which led to further discovering that I had other options of things to add to my blog. I still don't have the button thing down very well but I am enjoying adding links and lists. And this is where my sad little tale of obsession begins.

Have you ever noticed that obsessions are either fattening, frightening, expensive, or a combination of the latter? I don't THINK I have any frightening obsessions but I sure do have fattening and expensive obsessions. I love to eat, I love to read, and I love to knit. Need I say more? Well, since this is my blog....sure! Being the obsessive-compulsive person that I am, I don't do things half-heartedly. When I find something that I enjoy, I throw myself into it 150%.

Imagine my delight when I discovered an entire worldwide virtual community of compulsive knitters and crocheters on Ravelry (see the button link to the right). Here were people just like me--obsessed with fiber and making things out of it. Folks, I was in Nirvana wandering the pages and pages of patterns and projects on Ravelry. Then I discovered that there were "groups" up there that you could join based on common interests. If you liked coffee and knitting, there was a group for you. If you shopped with certain yarn vendors, there was a group for you. Making certain "shawls du jour?" No problem. Join a group of like-minded strugglers. Yarn Harlot groupie? You weren't alone. This was dangerous territory for an obsessive person and my growing stash of yarn reflected it, as did my dusty house.

And now I'm practically wiggling with excitement because my prospecting on Ravelry has dug up another treasure. There are groups of READERS on Ravelry. Readers.....in groups with names like YarnWords, RaveLibrarians, and Librarything Crafters. Wow, I mean, I can sit here and read about knitting and what books other folks are reading while munching on popcorn thus effectively feeding all three of my obsessions, which doesn't get much better than that unless the popcorn was something chocolate but hey, you can't have everything.

I had forgotten about Librarything for awhile but thanks to being a member now of YarnWords, I went over to Librarything and logged in. The "OC" in me groaned. I had joined it awhile back but hadn't done anything to update my profile nor had I even begun to catalog my books into it. My house would be in cobwebs by the time I got this site up-to-date. But then I spied the CueCat Scanner, a little device that looked like a resting cat in the shape of a stapler. This little beauty plugs into your USB port and you use it to read your book barcodes and then that info goes right into Librarything into your personal library holdings. This should save LOTS of typing time.

 
In the meantime, I'm back to my reading groups on Ravelry and notice that some have attempted to make a list of every book they've ever read in their life. Hmmmm, it's tempting but can I really come up with a list filled with 58 years of reading? Probably not. But this list idea really excites me. I LOVE making lists. What fun to put it up on my blog. And once I catalog my books into Librarything, I can link my library to my blog and......Well, you see where this is going, don't you? It's an obsession, I tell you. One thing feeds off of another and before you know it, your husband has returned from work and you're looking at him like he's an alien because you're still at the keyboard with your feet propped up on the hard drive, a book on your lap, a set of knitting patterns spread out on the computer desk above the keyboard, and a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup wrapper on your mousepad. You are SOOO busted. But it was a good day, wasn't it?

Thursday, March 20, 2008

Riding On the Memory Train

I was able to give Mom an early Easter present today, thanks to the miracles of email and cellphones. Let me explain. 


It was some time after Christmas that I ran across the address of Mom's best friend from college. I sent off a Christmas newsletter to her telling about Mom and we were able to start emailing each other. It has been such a treat over these last few months to share memories of Mom with Ruthie, who is one amazing woman herself. Between Ruthie and myself, we've been able to jog some great memories out of Mom. Some of them have been a little "off," like the one where she insisted that she'd been riding in a car with Ruthie along the Upper Peninsula of Michigan and Ruthie had stopped the car, jumped out, dipped her hand in the waters of Lake Michigan and then run back to "baptize" her. Consequently, I'm learning to doublecheck with Ruthie to make sure Mom has her facts straight.


It has been wonderful, though, to see the twinkle back in Mom's eyes as she has thought back to those times in her life with her dear friend. And so, when Ruthie mentioned the possibility of talking to Mom on the phone, I knew that would be just what the doctor ordered for Mom. We coordinated schedules and today at noon, Mom sat in her recliner, I sat on the edge of Mom's bed and I dialed Ruthie's number. She answered right away and soon I passed the cellphone over to Mom and then sat back and watched the years melt away. It was great!


While they talked, I drifted off to my own car on the Memory Train. Mom, my brother, John, and I were crammed into an overloaded Oldsmobile driving through the backroads of Wisconsin. We'd left Marinette, Wisconsin that morning and had a long drive ahead of us to get to Mankato by nightfall. Mom had washed out some of her underwear the night before in the motel and it wasn't dry yet. To my teenage dismay, she simply whipped out some clothesline, tied knots in her bloomers and attached them along a length of rope and then rolled the back window down just enough to stick the whole thing out the window before rolling the window back up to catch the end of the rope. Off we drove with the clothesline and Mom's panties (which were NOT small dainty things) flapping in the wind.


Thank goodness we left the city limits quickly behind us and were soon out in the country. It was an election year that year and Mom was suddenly inspired to do her bit for her beloved Republicans. So there we were, driving through the farmland of Wisconsin and everytime we saw someone out in a yard, Mom would toot the car horn and yell out the window, "Vote Republican." It wasn't long before I'd forgotten my embarrassment and my brother and I had our windows down and were also shouting along with Mom. What in the world those farmers and their families thought, I can only imagine! Somewhere along our route, there's a grandpa saying to his grandchildren, "Did I ever tell you about the time this crazy lady drove a big old car past my farm with a bunch of underwear tied to a rope hanging out the window? Must have been a Republican. Always airing dirty laundry."


Yes, it was a good ride on the Memory Train today. I was rather sad when it pulled into the station and I had to get off.

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

A Wet Knot Never Comes Untied

With our daughter's wedding day fast approaching, we'd been keeping a close eye on the weather
forecast. First it looked really promising. Blue skies and Spring-like temps were predicted for the weekend. "Perfect," I thought. But not so fast! A few days later, the forecast was changing. The blue skies had been replaced by a promise of grey, overcast weather.


By the time we arrived in Baltimore later in the week, the extended forecast was now calling for an 80% chance of rain. Not perfect weather for a wedding but at least everything was happening inside so it wasn't like we had to worry about an outdoor reception being washed away. However, by now we were noticing ominous rumblings on the Weather Channel about a huge storm system coming across the nation, up the midsection of the country and over to the northern states. It looked like some of the states to the west of us and the north of us were going to get clobbered. But Maryland and PA were just going to get rain.



In the meantime, our son Jason and his new bride, Laura had made it home after a grueling trip all the way from Indonesia which involved a 20-hour layover at the airport in Singapore, another 10-hour layover in another airport, changes in Vancouver, and a final arrival in Baltimore. By the time they got to our house, they were beyond exhausted. Laura had been fighting a bout with something while in Indonesia and was still not 100% up to par. Now Jason was experiencing headaches and waves of nausea. I had visions of Jason, who was to be one of the groomsmen, passing out during the vows or perhaps worse, passing on some tropical disease to the assembled guests.



Friday night's rehearsal went well and then it was time to head off to a wonderful Italian restaurant where the groom's parents had arranged a fantastic buffet in a private dining room. Along with the buffet, Jason's mom (this being Jason, the groom) had a little surprise up her sleeve........a slide show of pictures of both the bride and groom from their early years up to the present time.


Now, in my own defense, let me make this perfectly clear. I did NOT instigate this. I wanted a slide show really bad for the reception but Laura (this being Laura, the bride) had put her foot down and told me "Absolutely NO slide show at the reception." Naturally, I was delighted when Mary, Jason's mom, had said that she wanted to do a slide show at the rehearsal dinner. So I contributed pictures of Laura with a clear conscience, knowing that I had stayed within Laura's "rules."



When the projector was set up and the first photo shone on the wall, Laura gave me "the eye" and said, "Mom, you promised me you wouldn't do a slide show for the reception!"



"Honey," I protested in wide-eyed innocence, "I didn't do a slide show. Mary did. And it's not the reception. It's the rehearsal dinner. Never give a mother a loophole!"


The slideshow was an outstanding success!


Friday evening, as we rode the elevator back up to our hotel room, I noticed the weather forecast posted on the wall. It had now degenerated to "Heavy rain, gale-force winds, flood warnings, chance of thunderstorms."



The morning of Laura's wedding dawned wet and soggy. The wind drove the rain against the hotel walls in sheets of moisture but we stayed warm and dry, initially. Laura had woken her bridesmaids at 6:30 a.m. by jumping up and down on the bed, yelling "Time to get up!" They were all in various stages of being made up and getting hair done now. My brother and his family had flown out of Detroit ahead of the snow and were getting ready at their hotel a block away. I was ironing Laura's veil, shuttling between the rooms to see what else might be needed, and steaming away wrinkles. By the time the limo arrived at the front door, we had all assembled downstairs for a few last minute pictures before the bride's mad dash under a gauntlet of umbrellas into the limo.



I half expected to see a rowboat waiting at the church to ferry us down the steps to the main entrance but instead we hiked up our skirts or pant legs and tiptoed through the puddles and on into the church where we mingled with family and friends until it was time for the ceremony to begin. But wait, ......Mary's sister and family hadn't arrived yet. She gave them a quick call and I heard her say, "Well, are you in Maryland yet?" "Oh, oh," I thought. "This doesn't sound good." Turned out that the groom's aunt missed the ceremony completely because they were stuck in traffic somewhere between Philly and Baltimore due to the terrible rains. They did arrive just as we were finishing up the pictures after the wedding and before the reception, thank goodness.


The wedding itself was lovely despite a few surprises. The biggest surprise was when we realized that the pastor wasn't there. Instead Brother Morales officiated. It seems the pastor had gotten stranded out of state when his flight was cancelled due to the weather. But Brother Morales did a wonderful job and it was extra special because he was Laura and Jason's Sunday School teacher when they had lived up in the Baltimore area. The next surprise was that Laura's dad got a voicemail just as he was getting ready to walk her down the aisle. It was from her Uncle John Porterfield, saying he was not able to come from Texas for the wedding. Next I got a voicemail message just as the ceremony started (luckily my phone was on vibrate) from the nursing home saying that Laura's grandmother had just been diagnosed again with another upper respiratory infection and was running a fever so she was being put on another course of antibiotics and nebulizer breathing treatments. And to cap off an exciting turn of events, Laura received a message on her cell phone just as she was leaving the reception to go on her honeymoon from a close friend who was expecting her first baby and who had NOT shown up for the wedding. It was to tell her that the baby had arrived THAT DAY!


Laura was absolutely beautiful as she walked down the aisle on her father's arm. Just as she got up even with the front pew, I realized that she was crying. Wow! My dear daughter, who likes to have you think that she is not emotional at all and very no nonsense, matter-of-fact was crying sentimental tears of joy. Ah ha! I knew that deep down she was a big softie. Jason came down off the platform to claim his bride and together they walked up to meet the minister. Laura was still crying and continued for the rest of the ceremony. Her maid of honor kept pushing tissues into her hands. Laura did get her vows out though, despite the emotions. And when the minister pronounced them man and wife and then introduced the new Mr. and Mrs. Jason Sands to the assembled guests, the tears started up all over again. Now that's really love...when you feel such joy that you can't control the tears and you don't care, even if it means that your makeup runs on your big day.


The reception was held at the Towson Golf and Country Club and they did a wonderful job. The food was outstanding. I thought we were all going to OD on crab dip, it was that good. The flowers were breathtaking and the cake was a sight to behold. The frosting was European buttercream, the cake was almond flavored with a raspberry filling and the decorations were sugared fruit. The cake was topped with a marzipan bow and the bride and groom's monogram was put on the side of the cake. Fantastic!

Laura and Jason did a bang-up job of picking the music for the DJ. From cool jazz to easy listening to dance hits of the 80's to one line dance for me (the Electric Slide), it was great. Of course, one of the highlights for us was when Laura danced with her father. She had picked a song by Stevie Wonder that had been playing on the radio when George left the hospital the night she was born. It was "Isn't She Lovely?" That has always been his theme song for Laura ever since. As they danced to that song from 1980, I looked around me. Laura was crying, George had tears in his eyes, and I think most of the rest of us were sniffling, too.

And then it was time for the bride to change out of her gown and the newlyweds to head off on their honeymoon. The day had started out stormy, cleared up temporarily and the sun had peeped out for a bit, then the sky had clouded over again and the wind had picked up.


"It's kind of like life," I thought. "There will be good times, bad times, and so-so times. But through it all, they'll have each other and they'll have God to guide them. They'll also have their family and friends to surround them with love and encouragement."



God bless you, Jason and Laura, as you begin your new life together. And I'll tell you what they told Dad and I on our wedding day, as it rained in Greece in June, which is practically unheard of. "A wet knot never comes untied." Twenty-nine years later, we can say that they were right.


Oh, and by the way, if any wedding guests come down with dengue fever, we know nothing!








Saturday, March 01, 2008

Filled to Overflowing Isn't Necessarily a Blessing!



(Caveat: Not for the squeamish)

For the past three nights I've voluntarily banished myself to the guestroom where I've done battle with the sinuses from hell. How so much crud could come out of two little nostrils is beyond me. I should be earning honorary stock in Kleenex by now.....or at least bulk rate purchasing discounts.


Not only have I been trying to blow my brains out my nasal cavities, but now my lungs have decided to get into the act as well. I used to think it was bad hearing one of the cats trying to hack up a hairball. Let me tell you, humans sound even worse.


So the doctors give you medicine to "loosen up" your congestion. Then you blow even more and start really coughing up the good stuff which you promptly swallow back down so that you can cough it back up in the next go-round, and don't ask me to explain that logic because it has always escaped me. Oh, I know that you're supposed to somehow spit out the stuff you cough up. Has anyone ever successfully done that? Goodness knows I've tried but the results have been less than spectacular. When the kids were babies, the pediatrician told us to take one of those rubber ear syringes and suction out the gunk from the back of their throats when they had colds. Believe me, if I'd had one of those still around, I might have tried it. As it was, by 3:30 a.m. I was just desperate enough to consider, for a split second, looking for the Dyson. Thankfully I didn't have the strength to haul that sucker bedside.


What I was able to grab was my copy of the "Yarn Harlot: the Secret Life of a Knitter" by Stephanie Pearl-McPhee which has been sustaining me throughout the long nights this week. There's something comforting about knowing that even when you are feeling downright miserable, you can still find enjoyment in the words of a fellow knitter. "Yarn Harlot" has been sitting on my shelf for some time waiting to be read but it took some rather nasty germs to bring us together. So here's to you, Stephanie, my remedy of choice! Now, dad gummit, where's another box of tissues?