Happy Birthday, Ron!

It is with immense pride that I recognize my son, Ron, today on his 38th birthday. I can't believe the little blonde, blue-eyed baby boy I held in my arms so many years ago is now 38. Even harder to believe, is how his age dates me. I feel very fortunate to be the mother of such a fine man and I appreciate so much about him. He's funny, responsible, talented, and he used to be handsome. You might find these latest pictures of him to be quite shocking. Perhaps it's the fact that he is turning 38 that caused him to slip into a mid-life crisis, but I was shocked to see what he'd done to his thick curly hair.

Ron has never paid much attention to the fact that his dark, golden locks might need to be trimmed. It's not unusual for him to go months without a haircut. I've mentioned a few times that he needs a haircut, to which he agrees, but nothing is done about it. Well, as you can see, he did something about it this week. He had his daughter, Candice, shave the top of his head bald, leaving the thick clumps of hair in the back and on the sides. He even threatened to do a comb-over. I admit he got a lot of laughs from everyone at work, customers and employees alike. My fear is that as the years go by, what will he do next. Perhaps an orange mohawk? He assures me he will show up at work with his head totally shaved. Maybe it will be an improvement, but I doubt it will be much of one.

Regardless of the damage he has done to the good looks he was blessed with, I still wish him a very happy birthday, complete with homemade chocolate chip cookies. He's invaluable to me at work, and even more invaluable to my life. He may have a new Bozo "do", but I love this kid.

Happy birthday, Ron. You're the best.

Perogies Anyone?

About a month ago my son, Ron, asked for perogies for his 38th birthday. Mind you, perogies are a lot of work. I considered this request and came to the conclusion that since I hadn't made perogies for him since his 30th birthday, it was really not an unreasonable request.

So, like a dutiful and loving mother, I busied myself in the kitchen for hours and toiled over 56 perogies. Making the dough and filling are the easy part. It becomes time-consuming when each perogie is cut out, filled, and the edges crimped with a fork. They rest on clean towels until the last one is made, then they are dropped into boiling water. Once removed from the water they are placed in a bowl and covered with melted butter and onions. A lot of work, but oh yum! Robin and I sneaked a few to eat with our smothered steak for dinner. The rest will be taken to work tomorrow for Ron, along with a carton of sour cream.

His birthday is three days away so I'm sure I'll be back in the kitchen on Tuesday night for homemade peanut butter cookies with extra peanuts. No, Ron isn't spoiled, he's just one of my kids and I love them all very much. Besides, making perogies isn't so bad when they only have to be made every 8 years.

Our Foster Cat

Here's Weasil, our official foster cat. We took him in over a year ago so his Dad could relocate in a place where a cat would not be welcome. Things have not changed. He's still with us and Robin and I have become very loving foster parents. In this picture, Weasil is enjoying some snuggle time under the blanket.

BB's Having A Birthday!

Best Buddie, Cheryl, is celebrating a birthday today. I'll be kind and not mention her age. I will say, however, that she's exactly 13 months younger than me. We've been great friends for 13 1/2 years and her presence in my life is certainly a blessing.

Cheryl, I wish I could take you to lunch to the restaurant by the river in Bandera like you did for me last month. We could repeat the birthday experience with Blizzards, Yahtzee, gifts and naps. Okay, if you really want to go, we can arrange it. Pack your jammies.

Happy birthday, Cheryl, and much love to a cherished friend.

On My Soapbox, 4

Celebrity + Courtroom = Circus. This has always bothered me and now that I have a forum with this blog, I can vent. Why, why, why, do we tolerate the expense of a trial or court hearing so judges and lawyers can draw out their time in the spotlight? This latest circus surrounding Anna Nicole is just another example of the media frenzy that turns a simple court proceeding into a long, drawn-out affair.

I'll be the first to admit that she left a tangled web that is far from simple. I also admit that I have no legal training and can't speak with authority on the issues. But I do have a lot of common sense and it is telling me that if these circumstances involved an unknown, they would have been settled by now.

This is how I would have handled it: Do the autopsy and collect enough DNA to satisfy all concerned parties, and do the embalming the next day. If foul play is not an issue, bury the body after a decent funeral in the area where the deceased has purchased a plot. Make sure all potential fathers have blood drawn and sent to a lab for processing. When a match is found, unite father and daughter and consider the case closed.

Court dockets are full of cases that need to be heard, long trials or hearings cost the county money, and camera-loving judges and attorneys aren't worth the expense. If this story had involved an unknown it wouldn't have been much of a story. It's fodder for the media and they prolong it as long as possible. And, the current media blitz doesn't say much for our legal system.

Judge Larry is a joke. He's in the spotlight and loving every minute of it. While the cameras are rolling, he can make his little jokes (as if the whole process is a laughing matter), take control of the questions (why are lawyers there anyway?), and make his moment of glory last longer than is necessary. I'm sure he's taping these shows to watch over and over in the privacy of his own home. Lucky Larry, Anna Nicole fell into his lap.

This frenzy reminds me of OJ and the ridiculous length of his trial, only to come back with a verdict of innocent. If I, the unknown, had been accused of the same crime, my trial would be over in a week, I'd be carted off to prison, and the key to my cell would be pitched into a bottomless pit. The public feeds on celebrity, the sensational, and the private secrets of those in the public eye. And the individuals who handle the legal side are caught up in their own moment of glory. Do they really hear the case or are they more concerned about their "hair" day? Oh yeah, Judge Larry doesn't have hair.

Florida, California, Texas, and the Bahamas need to join forces and consider what is best for the baby girl. She's the only one who matters right now. If she indeed stands to inherit a large sum of money, set it up in a trust to be given to her at the age of 21, and provide a monthly expense check to help her father raise her with certain advantages. Then bury her poor mother. What's so complicated about that?

Mystery Case Files

As if I needed another computer game to keep me chained to the desk, Cheryl introduced me to the world of Mystery Case Files: Prime Suspects. I've always enjoyed hidden picture puzzles. When Angela was small and had a subscription to Highlights magazine, I grabbed it first and looked for the page with the hidden pictures. Such a simple challenge, but I found it fun.

Robin has complained more than once that I spend too much time in the back room on the computer. Now, I set my laptop on his coffee table in his den and play Mystery Case Files. He even joins in and points out hidden objects that I'm trying to find. This is fairly unusual since Robin isn't into any kind of games. He enjoys this game very much, to the point of having me order Mystery Case Files: Huntsville, which we fell in love with after playing a free trial game. But although he likes the game, he isn't obsessed. He knows when to stop. I don't.

If I'm not at work, cooking dinner or sleeping, you will find me searching for all kinds of fun stuff in this game. I will play it over and over. Cheryl told me the game is very good exercise for the brain since it involves so much memory. So I tell myself it's a healthy form of exercise that my body needs. I can pretty much zoom on through and find everything, but I do get stumped often since some new items are on the list to find. It's safe to say I spend hours exercising my brain. I even exercise in my sleep. Even in my dreams I'm looking for frogs, a lizard, or an artichoke. It's pretty bad when you close your eyes for sleep and see the puzzle, except, of course, if you are taking your mental workout to the limit.

I'm happy I've found a game that Robin and I enjoy doing together. Many times we will sit together on the floor in front of the coffee table and look for objects. Soon, however, Robin gets bored and turns his attention back to the TV. I wish I had his self-control.

One could say I've earned this time to do what I enjoy. There were many years when my time was divided and stretched with family. Now that the pace has slowed, I still feel overly indulgent. There are more productive things I could be doing. I have two books started that I want to finish writing. I could clean baseboards and closets. I could exercise other parts of my body that are being neglected while I stimulate my mind.

More than likely, though, I will wear out Prime Suspects while waiting on Huntsville to be delivered. My body might be entering a vegetative state, but my mind is sharp as a tack. Happy playing.

Post-Valentine Post

Robin and I usually discuss the upcoming Valentine season and consider if we want to join the commercialism or disregard it all together. We never eat out on Valentine's Day since neither of us wants to wait two hours for a table, reservations or not. I haven't lost my sense of romance with age,but have gotten a little more practical. If we do decide to celebrate by eating out, we do it the day before or after.

This year we decided to give each other a little token gift. Robin said he needed a belt and I wanted a new , thicker chain to go with the necklace he gave me for my birthday. I went shopping and selected two belts, one brown and one in black. Then, I spotted the Tommy Hilfiger boxer shorts with hearts and thought I'd like to see my guy in a pair of boxers. I added a fourth little item to the box, a tin of Altoid mints covered in chocolate. It wasn't much, but it was something he asked for and I was happy to oblige.

Robin handed me my little jewelers box and I fully expected to open my new chain. Imagine my surprise when I saw the beautiful pink sapphire and diamond earrings to go with my Christmas ring and birthday necklace! Not just surprise, mind you, but egg on my face as I glanced at his heart-infested boxers! We were definitely NOT on the same page. I scolded him for spending so much on me for a simple occasion like Valentine's Day, all the while ripping those earrings from their box and sticking them in my ear. Notice I didn't demand that he take them back.

Thank you, Baby, for making me feel like a princess!

"I told You So!"

In a previous post, under "The Joys of Marriage" I reflected on the thermostat wars in my home between Robin and me. To refresh your memory, he is always cold but in summer attire, and I'm dressed for winter and burning up. We sneak around and lower/raise the thermostat until the other complains. I was always responsible for the electric bill so I tried to use common sense and monitor the thermostat.

Well, times have changed. The mortgage is now paid in full and I gladly handed the electric bill to Robin to pay. His first payment was last month, well over $600. I made up my mind that I'd quit being a pain in the neck about it since I no longer had to pay the bill. I gave Robin full control over the thermostat. The result: The bill came in yesterday at over $800! He was shocked. I don't know why he was shocked. But I do know why it was higher. The "thermostat monitor" had left her post.

I'm willing to bet that Robin will be more conscious now when he dresses or nears the switch that sends enough warmth in our home that we could become nudists and feel comfortable with it. I'm thinking that this new pain in his wallet will wake him up.

Last week he was walking around the house in a summer T shirt and telling me he has felt so cold all day long. In the meantime, I'm standing there peeling off layers because the heat is so high in the house. I finally told him, "I know you won't believe this, but I actually saw people dressed for winter today because of this weather." You're kidding.

Oh well, at least I don't have to foot the bill any more.

Tainted Peter Pan

When the story broke about Peter Pan possibly containing salmonela we quickly checked our brand new economy-sized jar of crunchy peanut butter. Sure enough, the numbers on the lid began with 2111. It's now sitting on the counter to be sent for a refund or trashed all together.

The interesting part is that it had been opened by us once, and smeared on my mother's homemade wheat bread with some honey. We suffered no adverse effects from it. Either the salmonela is hiding lower in the jar, is not present at all, or the healthy flaxseed, cracked wheat and wheat germ in my mother's bread counteracted the dangerous properties of salmonela. Good vs. evil.

I prefer the last explanation. I like to think that all the hard work and good ingredients that go into the making of all those loaves of bread that keeps 30+ kids coming back for more, has power over a simple thing like salmonela. But to be on the safe side, we will not eat any more of it. My reasoning for that is that sometimes Robin eats peanut butter sandwiches on regular, white, store-bought bread. I just can't imagine! The empty calories of white bread could never ward off the dangers of salmonela, so we aren't taking any chances.

Sophia's Dedication

Sophia was dedicated to the Lord on Saturday, February 10. It was a lovely ceremony with a slide show of the family and a sweet picture of the star attraction left on the screen. I tried to post the picture but the blog wouldn't accept the format.

Sophia's grandpa, Jerry, an ordained minister, performed the ceremony. Having an important member of the family doing the dedication makes it very special. Sophia, of course, was well behaved and never made a whimper. She's such a good baby.

After church services, Allison treated us to a delicious pasta meal with homemade Italian bread, which I really indulged in. Dessert was another homemade specialty, pound cake with a topping of strawberries and blueberries. I ate so much that I crashed on Allison's bed while she was nursing Sophia. Within minutes, the two of them joined me in slumber. I hope Robin, Jerry, Sharon, and Brian will forgive us for leaving them with a messy kitchen and two active children.

Welcome, Sophia, to not only our house, but God's house as well. We love you so much.

My Real Age is OLD!

I found an interesting site where one can do the survey and see how one's calendar age relates to their real age. I took the test and was amazed by the results.

In all fairness to me, many positive things contributed to a "younger" me, like the age of my living parents, lack of a history of ovarian and breast cancer in my family, my driving habits, my BMI, and the fact that I swim in a very healthy gene pool.

My failure to exercise in all the ways the survey suggested aged me considerably. As did my diet. Too much red meat, not enough flossing, or fruits, or vegetables or fish. I will disregard the recommendations about fish since I won't eat anything that ever lived in a body of water. My junk food fixations also added a few years to my calendar age.

The good part about the survey - once recovered from the shock of the new age - is that it gives a detailed pattern to follow to reverse the aging process. If followed, the next test results could be much lower than the actual age. Unfortunately, one has to be disciplined and put the plan into action.

I must admit that the list of what I was doing wrong was longer than the list of things in my favor. I'm wishing I'd had a total vegetable meal last night instead of a Frito Chili Pie that tasted ohhhh so good. I have nothing against vegetables. In fact, I love most of them. The trick will be getting the husband to try again those foods he's always hated. And, to discipline myself to coming home from work and washing, dicing, cutting, and cooking vegetables instead of choosing an easy, less nutritious meal.

If you dare discover your "real age", go to www.RealAge.com and answer the questions. It takes awhile, and an hour or so for the results to be e-mailed to you, but it's worth the time spent. If you're looking for a self-improvement course, this is it. Change your lifestyle and extend your life.

I'm still in somewhat of a shock over my Real Age so I won't reveal it right now. It's bad enough that I just had a birthday and thought that new age was shocking, without adding some years on top of it. Let's just say I need to end this post and see if my dentures are still soaking or have somehow made it back into my mouth.

Valentine Baking . . .

Or How To Make A Mess With Grandchildren.

Robin and I kept Jude and Baylee today so their parents could have a deserved day out. Part of our activities included decorating heart-shaped cupcakes I'd baked the night before. We used a strawberry cake mix for its pink color and the complimenting strawberry frosting. We had sprinkles and small heart-shaped cookies to adorn the tops of the cakes. This was Jude's and Baylee's special Valentine surprise for their parents.

As a boy, Jude found the activity fairly mundane. He ate the second cupcake he iced, and opted for sticking a cookie on top of the thrid cupcake without any frosting. Then he was off for more male-oriented fun.

Baylee, however, stayed interested long enough to frost 5 cupcakes. She had her own technique: ice a streak on the cupcake, lick the knife, ice a streak, lick the knife. I made sure those cupcakes made it home with Mom and Dad. Both little angels had "Happy Valentine's Day" ready when their parents arrived to take them and their masterpieces home.