Silver and Gold

You know that old song:
Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver, and the other gold.
A circle is round, it has no end. That’s how long I want to be your friend.

Let’s start this one at the beginning (a very good place to start). So, I was born in a little town in south-central Wisconsin (half way between Madison and Milwaukee), and we lived catty-corner from an Octagon house where they had pictures made with hair on the walls. My family lived there until I was about 9. Then we moved to another town farther north in Wisconsin where it warmed up to -35 degrees in the winter. We moved to NH at the end of my 5th grade year and have been here ever since. While we were in WI I went to church and Sunday school, was a Brownie and a Girl Scout, played the piano and viola, rode my bike and skinned my knees, made mud pies and fell off of my swing set, had sleepovers and play dates, and generally did all those things that kids do (or did 25 years ago). The friends that I had in WI have always had a special place in my heart, as those were formative years when things seem so complex but really are so simple, or seemed so simple but were really so complex. I have distinct memories of those people and the things that we did. And, I remember that I was the one who left. So many of those people stayed and continued with life as it had been, while I moved on to another place. I kept in touch with a handful of childhood friends as best as a 10-year-old could, but things change. You know, you do your best, but sometimes things get so different and busy that…well, you just lose touch.

Since I have joined the blogosphere and Facebook Nation, I’ve reconnected with so many friends from the more recent stages of my life: high school, college, and life since then. It has been so neat to catch up with people that I haven’t connected with for years and read and see what they’re doing all over the country. It has also been fun to keep up with those that I see more regularly and with whom I am sharing the current chapter of my life. I’ve found myself recently wondering, though, if those old friends from WI remember me the way that I remember them and what the past 20 years have been like for many of them. I’ve Googled many to little avail and have tried to find some on Facebook with similar results. Apparently my friends have the same names as, like, hundreds of other people. Well, lucky for me, apparently there aren’t hundreds of people out there with my name because two people from WI have found me in the past weeks; we’re in the process of catching ourselves up on the past 20ish years, and it is truly fascinating.

So, I’ve decided (actually, I decided this a while ago, but I’m gratefully reaffirmed) that I am truly blessed to be able to share my life with so many wonderful people—silver and gold, old and new, local and distant. I know that I’ve mentioned this before, but I’m saying it again: wherever and whenever you’ve come from and wherever we end up, thank you for being a part of my life. I know that it hasn’t all been roses and sunshine, nor should it be, but what it’s been has made us who we are. And we are friends. And that’s pretty cool.

Things to make you smile

Well, they at least made me smile...

My cousin had her little girl last night: Victoria Ruth. Mom and baby are well.

This morning as I was driving to work I encountered a road block...of about 15 turkeys! This has happened before and always makes me smile. It's things like that that make me happy to live where we do. They're so silly looking too--such tiny heads. And, there were really at least 15 of them. These aren't the actual turkeys that I saw, but you get the picture.

This is not my Halloween costume this year:

Actually, I don't have a costume, but at least I'm not pregnant.

Joseph is 11 months old! Can you believe it?! What a sweetie...I know that I'm a bit biased.

And, he's apparently already wanting to be techno-savy.

"I'm surfin' mommy."

Hmmm, how did the VCR break? He didn't really break it (I don't think...), and at least it isn't a sandwich or something.

Pumpkin Festival II

One of the cool things about New England in the fall is the pumpkin festivals that end up all over the state. We went to the one in Milford a couple of weeks ago and ended up in Keene today. Matt was marching in the [mass of people walking down the street] "parade", so we even got free preferred parking! The last time that we went out to this one was a few years ago, and things hadn't changed too much. My folks met us out there and walked around a bit too. The impending rain managed to hold off, too, so it was all good.

Enjoy some pics from the day.

Joseph was all bundled up...he could hardly put his arms down!

The pumpkins were lined up all up and down the street. I don't think that any world records were broken this year, but there were lots of squash!

I thought this one was cute...I'm a nerd. Check out the glow sticks--no candles, apparently.

Daddy and Joseph got taped by some lady who was taping the festivities.

I think he was a little overwhelmed by the masses of people. And he hates wearing hats. But, he kept it on and let us stage him...kind of begrudgingly. His face cracks me up in this one.

Triumphant return

Well, they got one! My mom and I were leaving our haircuts this afternoon when Matt called from my parent's house along with my dad and my cousin, Nathan. They got their moose and had returned safely. Thank goodness.

Long story...the poor moosey got "harvested" yesterday afternoon. My dad and Nathan apparently had a nice and productive hunt. It wasn't like hunting roadkill, they actually hiked around and "rustled up a moose." It took 7 guys to drag it out of the woods (at like 9:30 Monday night) and the mile or so back to the road. Yikes. Nothing like 600 lbs of dead moose dragging behind you...in the dark...in like 30 degree weather...up and down mountains...not on trails. Eih. The things that people do for sausage.

I have to say that the funniest line from the story came from my cousin, who just has that knack for telling stories--you know, one of those guys who can make tying your shoes sound exciting. Anyway, since they'd pulled a cow permit, they had to prove that they'd taken a cow. That means that they had to produce the cow parts. So, Nate said that he found himself having a conversation that he never imagined he'd ever have to have: "So, where, exactly, is the vagina on this moose, here?" The good news (besides their safe return) is that their moosey was a lady who didn't have any calves and wasn't critical to any other moosey lives. She must've been a particularly ugly moose. Or a real bitch. Poor moosey. I'm sure she'll make great sausage...if I can bring myself to eat it...

No moose yet.

Apparently they're onto the whole hunting season thing. And, I guess that it doesn't help that my dad can't shoot a bull. So...they're still looking. No one at their camp has gotten one either. Keep your fingers crossed--we want sausage!

All over again

The classroom that I was proctoring the PSAT in this morning had this quote on the wall:

"If I had it to do all over again, I'd pick more daisies."

Apparently there's a whole list of things that goes along with this, but that tends to take the simple elegance away from the introspection that it hopefully invites. Consider this your invitation to think (and maybe act).

New Developments and The Moose

So, it's been a little while since I've last posted. Since then, Chompy has cut 2 teeth! My little toothless grin is a thing of the past! Typically kids get the two bottom teeth first, but Joseph got the top two. He did pretty well with them, so hopefully the next ones won't be too bad either. Check him out (those little white nubs are his teeth).

And, I've decided that the fall is, without any question, the greatest time of the year--especially in New England. Look at what I get to see out my front door:

Joseph, Staley and I took in the fall sights and smells of our street with Linus (the blanket). Yeah, I know that the Cubbies lost, but we're ever-hopeful.

Joseph also figured out how to pull himself up to standing. This was actually the first time that he did it at home.

He loves that little Elmo bench thing that his cousins gave him. He takes his time with Sesame Street very seriously: Matt and I say that he's "working." Although, sometimes (most of the time, actually) Elmo makes me want to go screaming through the streets and I've mostly banned him from my home, Joseph really likes this toy. This is the only Elmo that exists in our house and will hopefully remain as such. Other Sesame Street characters are cool, but Elmo just makes me angry...I know that probably sounds cruel and bizarre, but he just has a personality that makes me want to...I don't know...scream. Kids love him, though.

Then I just thought that this picture was kind of cute, so I'm sharing. Little tootsies.

And, I feel like I should mention The Moose.

I don't much know how to explain this other than: my dad won the moose lottery this year. His name was chosen to recieve a permit to hunt a moose this next week. Apparently this is a pretty hot commodity in New Hampshire and it's pretty exciting to win. So, my cousin came out here yesterday from Cleveland to go and hunt Cowwinkle (he got a cow permit--no bull) since he has experience with elk and knows how to do the field dressing. Matt went up there today to cook for the two of them and swap out with my dad once they get their moose. My dad doesn't do so well with the blood and guts, and Matt wants to learn to dress the animal to go deer hunting later.

Since my dad won the lottery in July or August, he's been so excited about this whole thing--he's been like a little kid. He got new camouflage and wore it all weekend, he bought new boots on the salesman's recommendation that "these would be good for a moose hunt, because, you know, I pulled a moose tag this year", he bought a new knife because "you know, I pulled a moose tag and I'll need to dress my moose", he got new binoculars (despite his cataracts) because "you know, I pulled a moose tag and I'll have to be able to find it." You get the picture: a total kid at Christmastime. He has even managed to get a Food Saver (that was last year's Christmas present) and all the fixin's (equipment and seasonings) to make a whole lot of sausage. The Sausage Man (yes, that's really the name of the place that sold him all this stuff) even gave him an international orange hat to wear while he's hunting for sausage.

I can't even tell you how much I'm hoping that they get their moose. I hope that it's a short, uneventful, and safe hunt and that the thing gets dressed and out of the woods quickly and with a lot of help. Once it's in the back of the truck I know that we'll all relax a little. So, stay tuned. I hope that it's a boring story...

It's the little things

I've found that it's the little things about parenting that tend to make it rewarding. Some of my absolute favorites include:
--being able to trim all fingers and toes of a sleeping boy while he stayed sleeping.
--an amazing toothless smile when you walk in a room.
--a big ol' belly laugh.
--having him fall asleep in your arms.
--watching him discover something new.
--seeing his little personality develop.
--snuggles.
--being able to fix what bothers him (most of the time).
--peek-a-boo.
--loving someone more than I ever thought possible (this one is the coolest, btw).
Of course parenting comes with its whole box of challenges. But that's for another post.

Flea. Flea Fly. Flea Fly Flow.

Know that old campy song? I hope I'm not the only one...otherwise I'm crazy. What's the news there, anyway?

So, we've got fleas. Or, hopefully, we had fleas. I really thought that Charley was sick...back pain, not seeming to be muscular, thought we were headed for some kidney problems kind of sick. Dodged a bullet on that one--just fleas. My folks bombed their house because they had fleas. Lela, Max and Jackie's cat, had fleas. It was probably our turn. So, everyone got a flea bath.

Charley: "I swear, bitches, if I were bigger, I'd eat you all. I'm gonna go crap on something as soon as we're finished here. Bitches."

Staley: "I really rather like water, but usually I get a bath in the big tub. Or a lake. But, this is okay too."

And we vacuumed. And vacuumed. And will continue to vacuum. I really don't want to bomb the house with a crawling baby. So, we'll vacuum.

Otherwise, we're pretty dull and boring this week. We went down to CT to visit some friends yesterday and went to the cutest little Apple Harvest Festival where we ate possibly the best apple fritters that have ever been created. And, they were created by a bunch of Lutherans. Hee hee. I had to chuckle at that one.

Since the Cubbies are out of it now (what the heck...they killed everyone during the regular season and stunk up the place in the playoffs...stupid Billy Goat), we're going to focus on Da Bears. They're really our primary focus anyway...our dog is named Staley and Joseph's bear is named Lovie.

"Can you say 'Da Bears'? 'Ditka.' 'Urlacher.' We'll teach you all about the Monsters of the Midway, Joseph." "I have monsters on my shoes, Daddy. And I'll love whatever you love because I love you."