Clear as Mud ...

Twice now, people have told me they thought Gary and I were getting a divorce based on comments I have made about our upcoming changes in our circumstances - it has left me speechless. I mean ... what says marital bliss or true, eternal and lasting love like real frog coin purses? Gary mentioned last night that maybe I had not explained our situation very clearly. So here is the gory details for those of you wondering what is going on. Probably the reason I have not been very clear is that this has one final stamp of approval it needs - so not a done deal - that being said I am going to explain it like it is a done deal.

Gary has accepted a position in Australia as Engineering Manager on a project out of Papua New Guinea (basically tribal people, jungle, malaria, etc). This position requires he live in Australia and is projected to be about a year in length. Normally, the family would move over, but with Jessie in Richmond State School and Ryan just finishing up his Senior year in High School and off to college - that is not really a possibility - so he will go over 'married unaccompanied'. Which means he will have a house or apartment there and a travel budget that anyone in the family can use. He is not on any sort of rotation (ie 4 weeks working then 2 weeks off) so when he travels home, he will be using vacation days. We figured out a fake 'rotation' where he could work 6 weeks, come home for a week - and be on vacation while he is here.

It makes more sense for me to do the travelling - so, during that 6 weeks, I will travel to Australia and be with him for a week or so right in the middle. So I will get to Australia about every month and a half and he will get home every month and a half.

Cheri - the confusion you are having is that this has not started yet - so he is just travelling for business not personal reasons. He is doing all his work, but some he is able to do from Houston so until this becomes official and the movers come and pack up his stuff - he is working a self imposed two weeks there, one week here (not vacation - just working out of his Houston office). Two days ago he changed the length of his stay in Australia from two weeks to three - so that he would be home the week of Spring Break. He probably has only one more of these 'rotations' and then he will head over with his stuff into a house or apartment and not a Marriott hotel.

I look forward to my adventures in Australia (not looking forward to driving on the wrong side of the road) and I know I will have a good time blogging about it! First up - petting baby kangaroos and holding Koala bears!

A Letter to my Blogland Family ('Cause Liz asked me to)

Eight months ago Wednesday (the 25th) I created a blog. Fresh off a trip with extended family, the purpose of the blog was to share photos since I didn’t want to burn disc’s for everybody.

Two days later and exactly eight months to this day, I received a phone call that turned my life on end. I was notified that Jessie was accepted at Richmond State School and that she would be going there to live. This blog morphed into something quite different. It was a place for me to rant, to worry, to scream to the heavens that I didn’t know what I was doing. Pretty much an on-line freak out.

This worked out fairly well as my family was not swapping photos, and writing is very cathartic for me. Then one day at church someone said “I love your blog”. Oh. My. Gosh! People were reading it? I don’t even remember giving out the address. And then again: “I love your blog.” And just like that a small family was born and my world expanded around me. A group of women who coalesced into something wonderful, something supportive - something extraordinary.

In the past, my struggles have mainly been a lonely affair. I am not big on friends – don’t know how to make them, don’t know how to keep them - thus no support system (except family) to see me through tough times. But now, I feel I have friends who, when I am having a down day and vent about it on my silly blog – will post a comment of support or just love and turn my entire day around.

2008 was a tough year, but I am thinking – if I thought it was hard having Jessie move out … I can’t even imagine what it will be like when Gary does the same thing. As I think of the day he is boxing his stuff and his closet becomes all but empty:I see a huge hole of panic, loneliness and fear appearing, but as I continue the scenario, I see that hole filled up with kind words and support from my Blogland Family.

I am not alone any more, and that has made all the difference.

Thank you.

Procrastinator's Fortune

I generally get Chinese take out when Gary is out of town. In fact I am pretty sure I am contractually obligated to do so. Some sort of addendum to the marriage license ... that or I just like Chinese food.

Soooo, Charlie and I were reading our fortunes. Charlies: "Someone thinks you are wonderfully mysterious." We discussed the possibilities: the boxer next door, maybe the mutt across the street ...

Mine (Thanks ever so much to Rodney for helping me out with this):

Tomorrow? I'll get right on that.

Tidy Corner

Get to cross off an item on my 'To Do' list today. Got the crap in my corner neatly stashed under the table Gary built me:

Never go to an Emergency Room sick.

I'm just saying. Not a good idea. Last time I showed up to the Medical Center ill, I received a police escort out of Harris County. I had taken Jessie to see a Pediatric Ob/Gyn and sometime during our visit, the elevators malfunctioned and hoofing it was the only way down from the 15th floor. Jessie does not like to take stairs, is very awkward at it and the swift flowing crowd of people surrounding us was not helping. I basically lifted / dragged her down all 15 flights. At the bottom, I left the building and promptly passed out. This does not go down so well surrounded by nurses and doctors - thus the police escort - to make sure I could drive ... but since they had let me get behind the wheel of a suburban, I'm thinking this was a formality.

So my MRI yesterday was to be taken 'downstairs' where I get my labs drawn up - a mini hospital labeled an Emergency Room. I was feeling like I had the flu - but then, I very often feel like I have the flu (that CFIDS stuff) and they took me to a back room. It looked like an ER. The doctor starts in on the questions and it comes out I am not feeling so hot. Then I start getting nauseated - never good. I mention this and he says they are going to draw my labs first. Whatever.

The nurse comes back in and tells me that she has a personal motto - only prick a patient 3 times then get the phlebotomist. I tell her I am a 'hard stick' (hard to find my veins) and maybe we could forgo the motto and head straight to the guy who does this in his sleep. She smiles sweetly (almost, but not quite clucking her tongue and shaking her head) - says it will be fine.

"There will be a little prick" she says ... then "darn" and then the probing begins. I can handle the stick - it is the probing that I really don't enjoy. "Well, that didn't go well, now did it?" she says. I look down at the crook of my arm and it is bleeding - this, I think is a first.

I say: "I see you have a butterfly needle, most can get a spot on the top of my hand with that" as she is putting the really tight rubber tourniquet on my other arm. "Well, this will work, no problem, I will be able to find it. Again - there will be a small prick ... hmmmmm". More probing, more bleeding.

She looks at the back of my hand and exclaims "Oh, well I should have listened to you, these veins are great - we should have started here". Tourniquet on my wrist now, cleaning the top of my hand with an alcohol swab. "Um, they normally don't go for that vein ..." I am quickly trying to explain as she wields her long needle ... "There will be a bit more of a stick this time" she is saying as I quickly get out: "It rolls" ... "Well, now it rolled" she exclaimed as she starts probing a third time.

By now the nausea is pretty intense and I am not feeling so hot. When I need to barf - I cannot talk - it makes me puke. Thinking this is not the sharpest needle in the room, though, I begin to tell the nurse that I need something to vomit into.

"Well, I don't think we have anything here ..." she says. IT'S AN EMERGENCY ROOM!! Where are all those cute kidney shaped bowls that totally don't work with projectile vomiting? "A bag" I get out. "Hmmmmm" she says.

I walk over to the sink and throw up. "You just threw up in the sink!" she exclaims. So many things to say, but I just said "Sorry".

Got the blood drawn, three shots in my butt, 2 prescriptions and rescheduled the MRI for next Tuesday.


I can't wait ...

Bad News / Good News kind of day:

Bad News: I'm sick.
Good News: Already had a routine doctors appointment scheduled for today.

Bad News: Lost my Discover Card after paying.
Good News: Found it on the floor after 10 minutes of frantic searching.

Bad News: Doctor ordered an MRI of my lower back.
Good News: Have had it done before, know what happens and what they will find.

Bad News: MRI and regular labs could take up to 4 - 5 hours, Gary leaving for Australia and would not be able to see him before he left.
Good News: Said I could come back tomorrow.

Bad News: Walked out to the parking lot and my car was gone.
Good News: Verified that it was only towed ... not stolen.

Bad News: No one knows the number to call a taxi, no phone book anywhere.
Good News: Gary still in town for a few hours and could look up the information I need.

Bad News: Tow cost $191.89 cash / exact change.
Good News: They were 'kind' enough to take $200.00 instead.

Bad News: House is a disaster.
Good News: Cleaning lady coming tomorrow so I WILL get things put away and by tomorrow this time, will be pristine.

Bad News: Gary leaving for Australia for 2 weeks today.
Good News: It's not like he is moving there today ....

Bad News: Gary is moving to Australia. Will be 'married unaccompanied' status. So 'his house' / 'my house'. Can probably only make it home every 6 - 8 weeks for a week of vacation. (Note: one more approval needed before finalized so not a done deal, not common knowledge and Gary will not be happy I wrote this ... but it has been a day)
Good News: I will get to travel and see lots of Australia and surrounding areas (will try to be there for 1 - 2 weeks in the middle of his 6 - 8 weeks).

Bad News: A town car just took Gary away.
Good News: He will be back in just 2 'short' weeks.

... it's all relative isn't it?

Older Than Dirt ...

The frogs asked for more 'face time' than 24 hours, and who doesn't want to start a party early?

Happy Birthday Babe.

The New, Improved, Lori

This is me being ... helpful. An odd concept around our house, Gary has had to do double duty since 1992 - and that was quite awhile ago. He is camping with the scouts, an unexpected trip to Australia comes up and here I am finishing the top of the table he built me:

It is a twin for the table he uses as a desk:

He put the deft oil (finish) on it, but we polyurethane the tops for protection - until they are smooth and glossy - quite a few coats. That he has entrusted me with this duty just goes to show you how desperate the man is to have this project behind him. I'm not totally irresponsible, but I am quite incompetent. Since this is going to solve a huge problem for me - a corner between our two desks full of crap (I plan on hiding all the crap under the table in containers) it is only fair that I help out - so while y'all are sleeping ... I finish.

Scouter Widow

As opposed to Worker Widow - which I will be starting Monday for up to 3 weeks - eek! Dude really needs to take a breath ...

Because "Dooce" tagged me:

Saw this going around and "Dooce" a blog I read did it and - tagged all her readers. She stated it was a good way to get to know her significant other. I am bored, have nothing to say so I did it. And tagged y'all at the end!

What are your middle names?
Ann and Lasson – you figure out who’s is who’s.

How long have you been together?
Married 27 ½ years.

How long did you know each other before you started dating?
Depends on who you ask. Apparently, he asked me to dance and I mentioned that he was dating my friend. Having made that mistake before, he did not ask me out …. but made all his friends ask me and we double dated. In a game once we were asked when we first met – he said the dance, I said the first double date – um, embarrassing. I don’t remember the dance. It was only a couple months difference though.

How long did you know each other before you started dating?
Now, here you go – I would argue that all the above dates were dates with Gary since he was so spying on me! We started dating about 4 months after ‘meeting’.

Who asked whom out?
Gary asked me. I had sworn off dating and my motto was “just say no” – pretty much because of all the dates I had with his friends. For some reason I said yes.

How old are each of you?
49 & 46

Whose siblings do you see the most?
About equal. No one wants to visit us here in Houston, so not many sibling visits unless it is for some purpose. We don’t go and visit them either. Family get togethers have been pretty much equally sparse on each side.

Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple?
Now? Gary’s travels (which, when I have more information and can blog about it, I will let you know just how shitty this is going to get …).
Before – can’t remember which was tougher – all Jessies surgeries and dealing with a handicapped daughter or being pregnant and from 3 months on knowing the baby was going to die as soon as it was born (ok, it was definitely the second).

Did you go to the same school?
We went to the same High School, but I was such a youngster, we were never there at the same time – thus my older sisters knew him, but I did not.
Both attended and graduated at the same time: Utah State University: Gary with a double degree: pre-med and civil engineering Me with my computer science degree.
Gary attended Cal Tech without me.

Are you from the same hometown?
Yes – I was born in Salt Lake City, but we moved to Logan, Utah when I was 5. Gary was born in Logan, Utah.

Who is smarter?
Hands down – Gary is a genius! Although he cannot spell, but is not too proud to call me to spell something for him he can’t even get close enough for the spell checker. He also lets me edit some of his papers.

Who is the most sensitive?
Me, you yell at me and I collapse in a heap on the floor. Good thing Gary is not a yeller!

Where do you eat out most as a couple?
That is a hard one, we don’t eat out much – a holdover from Jessie living here. We get take out or sandwiches and watch an hour of Eli Stone or something at home while eating.

Where is the furthest you two have travelled together as a couple?
All of Europe (don’t know what point would have been the farthest).
And in a month – Australia … when I go.

Who has the craziest exes?
No exes!

Who has the worst temper?
Me, most definitely. When things are stressful (like now) my emotions are all over the map. I cry, scream, you name it. Gary is almost always on an even keel. I could list on one hand the times I have seen him lose his temper.

Who does the cooking?
Gary – he will eat his own cooking!

Who is the neat freak?
Here is why we are still married:
Gary is the neat freak – clutter needs to be cleaned up.
I am the antimicrobial gal – things have to be CLEAN (and clutter free) so between the two of us we make a good team.

Who is more stubborn?
Gary no question

Who hogs the bed?
He is 6’3”, I am 5’2”. Do the math. We sleep with the traditional Norwegian Dyne (“dunaye”) which is for an individual – like sleeping with your own duvet – so no more hogging the covers – which was also him. We had a ‘dobbelt dyne’ (double dyne) until one night I got so fed up that he was hogging and it was cold because we kept the windows open in the winter (I know, weird) I got out of bed and yelled I was buying us our own dynes the next day. Went out and got them … no more yelling!

Who wakes up earlier?
Gary – he has a horrendous commute. He wakes Ryan up for Seminary. My commute to the ‘office’ is about 50 steps – and with Jessie gone, experimenting with that – you can get up whenever you feel like it.

Where was your first date?
The Logan LDS Tabernacle to hear a choir sing “Handel's Messiah” (It was Christmas time)

Who is more jealous?
Me, I don’t think I have ever seen Gary be jealous … of anything come to think if it.

How long did it take to get serious?
I told my sister after our 3rd date that I was going to marry Gary. It took him a wee bit longer! (We were married the next Christmas)

Who eats more?
Gary. I don’t eat during the day because of my illness and being nauseated – just eat dinner with him – I know he has a light breakfast and a lunch.

Who does the laundry?
Me – it is the one bastion I have kept during my illness. I get the clothes out of the dryer quickly so I don’t need to iron them and I can actually fold clothes. (Due to upcoming circumstances this might be changing, though)

Who drives when you are together?
Gary for the most part. Unless he is tired. He could fall asleep behind the wheel. I could not. It takes work for me to fall asleep and I don’t usually try to fall asleep behind the wheel, and I don’t fall asleep sitting up. So if he is tired, it is safer for me to drive.

OK, now – y’all have been tagged!

This is Soooo Not Going to Work ...

I'm such a loser! Do you have ANY IDEA how long it took me to get Rodney to cooperate? I can't even WRANGLE DEAD FROGS!! Rodney is just plain uncooperative ... I think he is bitter he has no birthday.?.. (Well, we will have to think about this ... )

This Birthday Photo is so not going to work out unless I find some sort of putty that sticks to frog leather ....


And does anyone out there have any idea how to make an itty bitty black coffin?

Sheesh - this is WORK!

Dear Jessie,

Today marks 6 months from that (horrible, horrible) day that I dropped you off at Richmond State School! I can hardly believe it has been 1/2 a year ... but then I try and remember our life with you here and it is a little fuzzy. Forgotten are the fights, and the hitting and kicking, the yelling, the interruptions, the blood and the mess. Remembered are the finger phone conversations, your excitement for daddy to come home, your excitement in general, your happiness and the beautiful spirit you filled our home with like a protective blanket from the evils of the outside world.

That is the beauty of the mind - you forget the bad and get to remember the good! What a gift from Heavenly Father that I can look back and see you with altered eyes; eyes that are not full of tiredness and frustration at your immediate actions - and I think I can finally see the real you! The spirit that is Jessie. A little late, but I will take what I can get.

You called me two days in a row this week and were excited to talk to me! That made me feel good and we had two wonderful conversations - informative conversations. You are getting a little better at communicating what you are doing and that makes me feel so glad.

You have been frustrated lately that daddy has not been here for half of the times I have picked you up and have acted up a bit. You want daddy! So do I baby, but for now ... and the near future, things are going to be like this ... things are going to get worse before they get better, I am so sorry baby - life is getting in the way isn't it?. So we are going to need to buck up and get along without him aren't we? We can still miss him though! That is always ok.

You are getting very independent and seem to be pulling away from us some ... just a little bit. You have your life, 'your place' as you call it, as opposed to 'home' which you refer to where daddy and I live. One day, you will call it 'home' and I will cry that day. I am having a very hard time letting go - each step you seem to skip and dance and fly into it with grace and excitement. Me: I stumble, wander and meander in - muttering and grumbling all the way. I don't know why I cannot do this with the grace that you can - why do I have to be so ... I don't have a word for it - despondent, resistant, complaining, .... something. Like I have said before: I suck at doing hard things.

I think it is the not knowing. You can tell me very little about your day, so you live in a black hole and I so want to know how your days go ... but I don't. I need to be a detective and just infer from the snippets I get from you that you are happy. I can see that you are healthy and losing weight and being well taken for. But still - I so want to know when you are sad, or sick or missing me - so I could fix it. But that is a part that does not come with this package deal. I need to just know and trust things are good for you and try not to miss to bad the small everyday pieces of your life that I used to take for granted.

I am so proud of you! You have exceeded my expectations at every turn! I know you will continue to. And things might get a little tough here for a while (ok, they are going to get really, really hard and you are not going to understand why), and you know what? YOU will do great! Me? Unfortunately I see me not doing so great, but I am going to give it my best shot ... for you.

Love you, so proud of you, and miss you terribly,

Mom

Flux

When I was in college, I worked in a Physics Laboratory. I was helping build an instrument that flew on the Space Shuttle. Since we were building just one of them, it was green circuit boards with connectors that needed wires soldered into each hole in the connector, not a massed produced circuit board - one made by hand. I was the 'soldering queen'. I could make a solder joint that would hold up in space (had no air bubbles) and when the equipment we were using was all gold plated, the fact that I could do it consistently on the first try was of paramount importance. So I soldered. To make the metal hook to the metal strands of the wire and stay in the metal cup you were trying to solder a wire into, you used flux. A strand of braided copper wire soaked in some sort of resin to facilitate the connection and the flowing of the soldering material itself.

From Wikipedia:

In soldering of metals, flux serves a threefold purpose: it removes oxidation from the surfaces to be soldered, it seals out air thus preventing further oxidation, and by facilitating amalgamation improves wetting characteristics of the liquid solder. Flux is corrosive, so the parts have to be cleaned with a damp sponge or other absorbent material after soldering to prevent damage. Several types of flux are used in electronics.

Why, you ask am I rambling on about Flux? Because I cannot get the word out of my head today. Has it anything to do with my 'glory' days as Solder Queen? No. (Aren't you pissed now that you read all that crap!) It has everything to do with definition 3 at Dictionary.com:

flux  /flʌks/ [fluhks]
–noun
1. a flowing or flow.
2. the flowing in of the tide.
3. continuous change, passage, or movement: "Her life was in a constant state of flux."

I had lunch with two people on Monday and we were all discussing our lives - things were changing, but relatively stable. It is now Wednesday and that is not the case for any of us. Two days. And all lives are different in ways none of us had even fathomed.

It seems like life is getting to be that way now. I started this blog one day before I found out that Richmond State School was accepting Jessie. If that isn't change I don't know what is. And every week has been different from the last. Somehow I don't see it easing up in the near future.

Tomorrow will be the 6 month mark for Jessie at Richmond State School. I am still unsure how I feel about it, or what to tell her, or what to think about the whole situation. Maybe it is just today ...

Ryan has been ill and I am coming down with it, the washer is broken, and Gary is headed to Australia for 2 weeks on Sunday.

Just a gray, slow, deep thought, lie in bed and moan kind of day, I guess!

As promised ... no froggies:

Pretty much this is how I can be on the computer all day and accomplish nothing (or my definition of nothing). I LOVE Photoshop. So many bad photos .... so little time!

Neither is my photo, but after working them, I think I get to accept a wee bit of ownership:

Ryan, Grand Canyon (Before and crappy camera - not much can be done)
Ryan, Grand Canyon (After)
Church in Prague (Excellent shot, Gary) Before, better camera

After ... so cool! (Better 'shot'! - I am sure I had some dark ones too but not that were such a cool shot - not making fun of Gary's photography skills - he regularly kicks my butt in that arena - and often has to remind me what an F-stop, ISO, etc is)

Goals for the day:

1) Renew Ryan's passport
2) Stay sane
3) Start Enrichment Newsletter
4) Stay sane

5) Pay Discover bill (eeek!)

6) Stay sane
7) Figure out if there is anything I can do for hubbys 50'th Birthday on Sunday that will not get me killed or divorced in the process. (Ideas?... Anyone? ... Anyone? ...)
8) Stay sane
9) No Blogging (oooops), no frog photos, no crazy Norwegian character acting (ooooh noooo! / aaaaaaah neiiiiiiii!), no prank phone calls, etc
10) Stay sane


I give myself an hour ... then I crack ... (maybe 2 if I really try hard)...



Note: I seriously have more to do today - my life is not really as pathetic as it looks up there I have PLENTY of things to do today, I just like to work in lists of 10's and these are the most important for the day (other things like shave the dog, eat bugs, clean the stinky mop head, you know ... the usual).

Seriously ... Where is Everybody?

If the best we can do people is watch Lori lose her mind getting lost in an imaginary frog soap opera and finding out that Kimberly finished Due South and a book ... we are in a lot of trouble.

By, the by, if you call 1-800-GoFrogs as I did today, Troy (apparently Hugh's assistant) is not very helpful ... at all. He will, though sell you box tickets to the Seattle Mariners games (weird, huh?).

For Laura:

Note: if you are totally confused and, oh, my .... aren't we all at this point? Please refer to the comment string to the post: "In Honor of President's Day" (that and the pile of grey matter that seemed to spill from my head, oh, about an hour ago). That all will clear everything up nicely!

Think I got Rodney a gig:

He shoots bullets from his MECHANICAL arms!!!
He can throw a knife with DEADLY accuracy ...
from his MOUTH!!!

He doesn't need LEGS!!!
He doesn't need BRAINS!!!

He's part FROG!!!
He's part MACHINE!!!

HE'S:

The Rodenator!!!

Coming to a theatre (no where) near you!!!!

Hey! It's the best I could do! Dude - you try to convince a paraplegic, ill tempered, foul mouthed (ooops, that's me) LITTLE (yeah ... WAIT until you see him next to his humongous honey (stage wife I might add) - they always look smaller in real person) twat to clench a knife between his smarmy toothless gums at 1:00 in the morning!!! But I am "only" the photographer. The title of the film, you ask me? Totally lame! The Rod-en-a-tor? Yeah, but you'll have to take that up with Hugo ... his agent. That's: H-U-G-O. One. Word. As in 'Cher' or 'Madonna'. Seriously, this has gotten way out of hand if you ask me, but, of course, no one is ...

Anyhooo ... Hugos number is 1-800-GoFrogs (if you believe it). I hear he did get that old frog the part in Shrek 2 or 3 or 2 1/2 or what ever it was - you know, Fiona's dad - the one with his totally cool death scene(s) - so maybe he's good. I guess time will tell.

.

.

.

Anyone? Anyone? Hello? .... Will someone PLEASE tell me to GO TO BED!!!

In Honor of President's Day:

Note: No animals were harmed in any way in the taking of this photograph as they were already dead.

Court: This is for PETA (and Tess was only kidding about the staple).

... and on a lighter note:

Babyland

I stall. I say I have a headache, I am tired. I lay down for a bit and wonder what I am doing and what is my problem?

I get up, grab a bucket, the lime away, a brush, paper towels, all things that in the back of my mind I know I don’t need … but just in case.

I’m in the car. She’s farther away now. I used to jump over to Dairy Ashford and whip on up to Westhiemer and there I was at Memorial Cemetery. Now, if I drive the Westpark Tollway, I have to go to Beltway 8 and up to Westheimer and loop back. I am annoyed with the traffic, with the lights … typical.

Then I am there. I turn in to the quiet plot of land full of lives now over, memories, and the quiet reverence that always seems to lie over places such as these.

Four short turns and I am in another land.

Babyland.

I notice it’s not so bad today. In the past, when the pain for families was more recent, the flowers, the balloons, the toys, the stuffed animals, the happy meals, the childrens drawings were so abundant you could barely walk through the ‘Carnival of Pain and Sorrow’. It hits you like a wet blanket of tears as you try to dodge the baby markers and toys.

It feels like walking into another time, another place – sort of like the doctor in “Field of Dreams” as he steps off the baseball field and becomes something altogether different. I am now someone else. Not the person who drove up in the car and parked here. The memories come fast and furious and swirl in my head: something that I can generally control when I am somewhere else …. anywhere else … but here.

Rachael is buried behind a bush. A nice private place to sit, or to talk, or clean up, or just cry. But also it is hidden and has been my undoing when someone unhappy with my babies’ marker, decided to bury it in 2 feet of ripped up roses. But there are those that have taken to Rachael’s marker also … and leave gifts. So I walk towards the bush, always a little apprehensive, not knowing what I am going to see as I round the corner.

I sigh, everything is ok. And as usual I don’t need my cleaning supplies. One of my Unknown Angels has cleaned her marker as she has done since the day it was installed. Never any lime stains, ant hills, leaves or growing grass near it – which is very much not the case of her neighbors’ markers. I move the flowers and the toys off of Rachel’s marker. It seems to draw those in that are hurting and help them find peace - and for some reason they leave her gifts. I put them on empty, forgotten markers.

I have brought no flowers, or balloons, or toys, or happy meals, or any of the other things surrounding her marker. Her marker is enough, it says it all, and I find wilting flowers just … sad.

I smile, and quietly say ‘Hi Baby’. And even though I told myself that I wouldn’t do it this time, not this year, it’s stupid, and confusing and just plain weird … I can’t stop myself: ‘I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I'm so sorry. I am so, so sorry sweetie.’

To this day I cannot be there without this mantra coming from my lips and I have no idea what I am sorry for. Sorry that she is Celestial and I am not? Sorry that I suck at making babies? Sorry things went down the way they did on that February 14th so very long ago? Sorry it has been so long since the last time I visited, not her ... I know she is not here, but symbolically visited her? Sorry that it is overcast or that I am not wearing the right color shirt? I don’t know.

One day, I will move on. Move past this. Maybe I will even know why.

But not today.


*********************************************


And today because of a kind note Courtney wrote:
"May your V-day be filled with tender glorious angel visions."

I decided to photograph the Angels watching over my Little Angel Rachael:



Thank you, Courtney, you made me see past the sadness and pain of 'Babyland' and see the beauty surrounding it.


NOTE: I truly apologize if this has upset anyone or offended you in any way, it was not my intention.

Meet the Family:

This is Harriett and ... well I don't know. I guess we have not been formerly introduced. I can normally come up with a name at the drop of a hat - and the wee little one here is going to be nameless for now. Harriett is the name of the jumbo one, pretty much because she is going to need a bullying type of name if she thinks she is going to get away with continually flipping me off:

Yeah, I know she only has 4 digits, but trust me - she be flippin' me off!

(I know I am sick and twisted and this is a dead animal and all, but aren't those just the most darling - albeit nasty fingered - little hands?)

GARY COMES HOME TODAY!!!

And he is bringing gifts from Australia. Photos to ensue.

A Big Thank You ....

and virtual hugs! Thank you all who helped with Enrichment Night. I was so worried about the skit that I put Susan in charge since I knew I would flub up trying to explain what we wanted. YOU GUYS ROCKED!!!! I have not laughed that much in a long time! Thank you. And thank you to the teachers of the mini classes. Everything went so well. I don't know why I worry - probably because I am genetically wired to be that way...

I also want to thank everyone who came to Enrichment Night last night. I always worry about no one coming and I don't know why - no matter the subject, you ladies always show up and I want you to know I appreciate it.

A Good Day ...

Well, this post will be a little spacey since I can tell my electrolytes are off a bit from throwing up so much. I stayed in bed until I had to go to the church to set up at 1:30. There was an Area Conference for the Missionaries that morning but they said that they would be gone by 1:00 so we were good.

As we sat there at 1:45 as they ate lunch. We decided it would be tacky to go up to the General Authority: Brother Craig Christensen and his wife and tell them to get out, the building is ours now. So we sat, and we sat and we talked.

When they were done, they helped us clean up their mess and set up for tonight. There was one lady that stayed and was so kind and helpful and could tell that I was very ill. I sat down to rest because I was so shaky and dizzy. Susan was speaking to her, when I realized that she was Sister Christensen. She was talking about going to High School with Sister Julie Beck.

Then she looked at me and started talking about service and having heavy loads and saying very kind words that warmed my heart and made me feel so good. She then said she would like to tell us a story if that was OK. We said yes.

She told us that her Aunt 4 generations back wrote the words to 'Sisters in Zion'. She told us her entire life story - her and her sister coming over from England and heading to Utah with the Willie Handcart Company. They helped a mother of 4 little ones whose husband had died along the way make it to the Salt Lake Valley. She then wrote the poem. It was later made into the song. Tears were streaming down my face as I realized that my problems, the things weighing down my shoulders right now were so piddling it was a joke. It was nothing.

She smiled and said she would tell Sister Beck 'hi' for us and that we were doing a great job serving the Sisters in the ward. She was such a beautiful woman, with poise and confidence and a spirit of service and compassion. It was a wonderful afternoon to just spend some time with someone who was so complementary and kind and full of the spirit of love and service.

As we set up tables, and chairs and displays things just didn't really seem all that troublesome any more.

And I realized something - If Sisters come tonight, Sisters come. If they don't - that is not my problem. I have done my job and I think we did a great job. That is all I need to worry about - the rest - well, it is out of my hands and I am just not going to worry about it.




As Sisters in Zion we'll all work together;
The blessings of God on our labors we'll seek.
We'll build up His kingdom with earnest endeavor;
We'll comfort the weary and strengthen the weak

The errand of angels is given to women;
And this is a gift that, as sisters we claim;
To do whatsoever is gentle and human,
To cheer and to bless in humanity's name.

How vast is our purpose, how broad is our mission,
If we but fufill it in spirit and deed.
Oh, naught but the Spirit's divinest tuition
Can give us the wisdom to truly suceed.

Tempting Fate

I thought it was funny to label yesterdays post "Bring it on!!". I was feeling good. Things were crashing and burning around me and I just found it all slightly amusing and, well, typical. But waving your middle finger at "Mr. Murphy" himself (rhetorically speaking of course) well - that is something all together. I found out last night it is called:

FOOD POISONING.

Yeah, I'm thinking things are pretty much "50/50" - either I will be a Enrichment tonight ... or I'll be dead.

Bring It on!!

Susan is not a happy gal. She said sometime last evening that 'it is all going to be fine' feeling became a 'I have a black cloud hanging over my head, what's wrong with me?' feeling. She called me VERY frustrated. I received a call last night that I could use the Stakes Xerox machine if I hurried over - which I did and finished the stuff I was not willing to do at home. Susan? She put her mobile phone on the charger and went to the gym. The home phone was upstairs with her husband so she never heard it ring with the multiple times Cathy tried to call her to tell her the same thing about the Stake Xerox machine.

She is headed to Kinko's. An unhappy gal. Me? I still think about 10 things are going to go wrong between now and tomorrow night (PLEASE COME!!! I am afraid no one is going to come and all my xeroxing will be in vain). Am I worried about it? No. I am prepared. I am expecting it. Like a punch in the gut - if you know it is coming you can tighten your stomach muscles (OK, I used to, now I would just have to run like a girl) and take it without it phasing you. Same thing being a 'glass is half empty' type of gal. Still on an even keel. In a good mood, actually.

I am ready for anything!

Murphys Law

Murphy's law is an adage in Western culture that broadly states,

"Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong."

It is also cited as:

"Anything that can go wrong, will",

"Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong",

"Whatever can go wrong will go wrong, and at the worst possible time, in the worst possible way",

"If there's more than one possible outcome of a job or task, and one of those outcomes will result in disaster or an undesirable consequence, then somebody will do it that way".

I used to be a glass is half full kind of gal. Then my life for about 10 years was one horrible experience after another. I literally walked through hell and back out again. Somewhere along the way my outlook became ... I guess wary is the best word. Be prepared for the worse and if it does not happen, well you are pleasantly surprised. Expect the best and you get a life full of dissapointment.

Very philosophical for xeroxing some 20 sheets of paper!

I need a bunch of xeroxing done for my Enrichment Night and called the librarian and asked her when would be a good time to get it done. She said she was there Wednesday night. I said no way. One day before EnrichmentNight is not the time for things to go down the toilet, and trust me - something ALWAYS goes down the toilet, I just expect it now. So we set up for today at 12:45. Been there the whole time - it is now 3:00. What did we do? It said it was out of toner (I know you SO care) so we changed it and I made 55 copies of my first page. THEN it says that the toner cartridge is not installed correctly and refused to work. I swear we pushed that toner cartridge in and out again at least 50 times. I decided that it is just pouting - and it is going to take an expert to change its attitude. Of course the users manual is no where to be found. This is typical for me, not even a surprise. I said oh, well, I will take an entire day and two printer cartridges and do it at home.

Susan was there and looked at me like I was from another planet! She is so convinced it will be working and everything will be fine. She has a feeling. She is calm and is just going to come back another day.

Me - I have a feeling too. The feeling that I better get started on this damn xeroxing in my office since it is going to take hours. (Already order 4 new printer cartridges to be delivered tomorrow by my good friend Mr. Amazon)

Is it me? Should I just sit back and wait? Do I not have enough faith? No, a little voice in my head is telling me that the Lord helps those who help themselves.

It will be interersting to see what is actually available for the women to take home on Thurday night and how it actually came to be ...

Embellishing My Brains Out

Been a Scrapbookin' Fool ...

In between migraines and all the lovelies that accompany that, I have been wasting away my time playing. I joined a scrapbook website and had uploaded the 'My Valentine' and ... man - the next day I had 42 comments, very complimentary and very .... satisfying.

Had you told me 20 years ago that I would, in the future, start scrapbooking and posting items on the web (that term would have been very confusing back then) I would have told you to shoot me on the spot. And then I would have told you to shoot me again, just to make sure I was dead. SO NOT ME.

As you can see, I have 'embellishment issues' (yeah, my sister says I exaggerate ... but not that kind). I have no idea what to do with embellishments. I just sit there and stare at them, try to group them, and everything looks like crap.

Shelley or anyone out there that scrapbooks (even if you are in the 'scrapbook underground' I won't tell anyone) please .... help!!!

Comment from the Crazy Bro'

Anonymous said...

Thanks for thinking I am a hero... It makes me a little uncomfortable when people make a fuss over my mission. It was awesome to be a part in such an awesome rescue... And - I am really not as crazy as Lori says I am... Jeff (This is Lori shaking her head back and forth and rolling her eyes ....)

February 7, 2009 11:22 PM

(From My Brother, My Hero)

Magic Happy Pills

Since my 'normal' happy 'pill' is in Australia, I have been adapting. Nothing makes me happy like flowers do! And there is nothing like playing with them in PhotoShop and creating these:

Above (and farther below) is a live branch covered with flowers. Kind of like having a cherry tree in your house ... except for the color ... and the thorns. HEB floral department is just full of surprises.

Yes, people, this is what ignoring life looks like...

My Brother, My Hero

And Marcus Luttrells also. Marcus Luttrell is the Navy Seal that was with his group of 4 men and were ambushed by the Taliban in Afghanistan in June of 2005. He was the only survivor. (He has since written a book titled: “The Sole Survivor”). A helicopter was dispatched to rescue the survivors when they radioed for help. The Chinook helicopter was hit by a RPG (Rocket Propelled Grenade), crashing and killing everyone on board. It was the worst loss in Afghanistan since the invasion in 2001.

Luttrell was found, injured by an elderly man who, with two friends carried him back to their small village deep in the mountains. There he stayed with the Taliban surrounding the village. He wondered how much he would eventually ‘go for’ assuming that he would be handed over to the Taliban when the price was right.

During this time, my brother and others were flying over the area wishing for Luttrell to show himself. They did not find him and my brother headed back thinking “We failed”.

On July 1st, the man who first found him had his father walk down the mountain to a Marine outpost with a note from Luttrell saying: “This man gave me shelter and food, and must be helped.”

Thus began the largest combat search and rescue mission since Vietnam. The US commanders planning the rescue initially planned on sending in a Chinook helicopter to get Luttrell, while Jeff in his HH-60 would wait five miles away to evacuate casualties. But then it was decided that the smaller HH-60 could navigate the turns approaching the small village more easily than the lumbering Chinook.

“Sixties, you got the pickup” the mission commander said. “I was like, holy cow, dude, how am I not going to screw this up?” Jeff says he thought (all quotes taken from a newspaper article in the Washington Post all recollections are from Jeff telling me the story personally).

At 10:15pm, five nights after Luttrell’s four man team had set out – Jeff (the pilot) climbed aboard with his crew. They all knew it was a dangerous mission – the mountains were treacherous and the village was surrounded by Taliban – armed Taliban. They were all praying. One crew member said that he had never asked for God’s help before – his father was Jewish and his mother Christian. But he prayed then saying “He didn’t even know what God he was praying to”.

They flew through the inky black mountains, and as they increased in altitude, my brother realized that he was not going to make it with all the fuel he was carrying, they were too heavy, they were going to crash. He made the tough decision to dump fuel on a town below saying “Sorry guys (referring to the town below), that is for Penny and the boys” referring to his wife and his four sons waiting for him at home – not knowing what he was doing since starting his mission – communications were cut off.

Five minutes before the helicopter reached the small village, US Warplanes – guided by a ground team that had hiked in – attacked the Taliban fighters. As my brother puts it “They started shwacking the bad guys”. The clouds lit up with explosions all around.

They descended to the landing zone, a ledge on a terraced cliff. The rotors spun up a blinding funnel of dirt. The aircraft wobbled, drifting left toward a wall and then right toward a cliff. Some crew members lay down bracing for impact. His flight engineer screamed “Stop left!”, “Stop right!”. “I’m going to screw up” Jeff recalled. Then remembered his best friend’s wife howling in pain when he told her that her husband had been killed on a training run a few years before. “Don’t let that happen to Penny” Jeff prayed. Then, suddenly, through the brown cloud of dirt, a bush appeared. An orientation point! And Jeff set down on the cliff with only inches to spare on either side – his blades just missing the cliff and the skids just inches from the cliff edge.

They got Luttrell on and headed back the way they came. What the Washington Post story does not say is that Jeffs’ navigation system went out and he was flying blind, and praying like mad. All he had was that bush to land his chopper.

Two years later, when the Washington Post article was written (in conjunction with the book “The Lone Survivor” coming out), Marcus Luttrell who lives in the Woodlands, a suburb of Houston called him and said: “Hey buddy, this is Marcus Luttrell. Thank you for pulling me off that mountain”. Jeff whooped – having not been able to talk to him during the rescue.

So that’s my brother. He is crazy, hyper, and my hero. He survived growing up with five sisters and came out just a little crazy! I love him to pieces. He will be here Saturday night – come on over and bother him!

-----

See – all calm now. No more panic. Weird, huh?

I'm Thinkin' a Bit Extreme

So Gary just called, it is 5:15am his Wednesday morning, pretty early - but he has trouble sleeping the first night he is in Australia. He says he is heading down to work out, then got quiet and said he had a confession to make. He said he had done something that made him feel like he had either A) written graffiti on the back of a womens bathroom stall or B) rifled through his mothers underwear drawer. I am pretty panicked by now, because ... EWWW! rifling through your mothers underwear drawer!?! I couldn't even come up with a scenario where he would feel this way.

So he confesses:
He wrote a comment on my blog! It was on the one where I make fun of his camping next to Foster High school and we all agree via comments that camping sucks. He says he got swept up and found himself 'way too deep to chick land'.

Oh. My. Gosh! He even went so far as to ask me to delete it. I told him I had seen a comment from Anonymous that sounded like him. But since I can track IP Addresses and their location and since that comment had been posted, only a steady viewer from Singapore, a somewhat steady viewer from Germany and a very committed viewer from Minnesota (don't have a clue as to who they are - but Welcome!) had been on and Brisbane, Australia had not - I assumed it was one of them. Here is his horrible message (I guess he was confused by all the hatred of camping):

Anonymous said...
None of you mentioned the 3 "F's" (Fire, Food and Fun, not necessarily in that order). OK and your probably need to include hot chocolate, which should be part of any 'real' camp out.
February 3, 2009 1:36 AM

So I wrote back:

Lori Hurst said...
Now Gary would agree with Anonymous ... let him play with fire and have hot chocolate and you got yourself a camp out!
February 3, 2009 5:51 AM

A phone call home asking me to delete such a horrible thing! OK, it is not the comment, it is the fact that he commented.

Now I ask you - seriously - a guy commenting on my blog -vs- rifling through his mothers underwear? I am thinking there is no comparison.

And just so you know - I think he was just trying to make me laugh ... of course after freaking me out, because we are just that kind of couple.

Addendum: Gary would like me to mention that he has done neither of the things he mentioned above.

Also - he blames his behaviour on a 'chick book' that he is reading (I recommended it without reading it because I like the author - but did not feel she wrote 'chick books' just 'a lawyer book about a female lawyer'). I read 10 books for his 1 so I recommend books to him when he travels because I know what he likes - but lately I have been reading technical manuals on web design - so just shooting in the dark!

Taking Photos ...

Now I thought that this was going to be much harder than it actually was:

I always thought that to get a photo where one color was present and the rest is black and white took painstaking work in Photoshop or another photo editor. Figured out last night that my camera can be set up to take the photo.

And this was my point and shoot camera, not my SLR - a much simpler camera. Will have to see if my SLR will do it also ...

Is it a Weimaraner Thing?

I believe I have mentioned being addicted to cuteoverload.com. I watched these two clips last night and they made me smile. I realized that I had yet to post a video on my blog from somewhere else (have posted my own videos) so I thought it was high time.

I don't believe they are the same dog - the top being referred to as 'Amber' who passed away in '08 - The bottom one does not mention that.

So my question - is it a Weimaraner thing? When I went to YouTube to figure out how to post these, I found 10 more just like it - all Weimaraners. I don't believe I have had a single dog that has felt compelled to 'sing along' to anything!

Movie Titles

So ... my brother, his wife and two other couples are coming to my house to spend the night on Saturday prior to embarking on a cruise Sunday. They did not want to chance someones flight being delayed on Sunday and Jeff and Penny had not seen our house so asked if they could crash at our house - which of course I said 'yes'.

And as I am wont to do when people are coming to stay at my house - I make a list of unbelievably stupid things to do before they come. Mainly because if I can't do it when someone is coming to the house, basically it will never get done. On my list and one that I needed to get out of the way was to get all my DVDs sorted and put away. I said in one of my blogs 'list of stuff about me' that I had them all stored in drawers - in order, and an excel spreadsheet listing them all. But the spreadsheet did not include the last 6 months of purchases, which were just lying about and bothering me that they did not have an assigned spot. Not wanting to be called a liar, and wanting to merge the children's DVDs and the regular DVDs (because - seriously - where would you put Elf? Or Harry Potter? Or Cars? These things really do keep me up nights) I took all the DVDs out of the drawers and placed them in piles: A to Z.

A - I was interesting: A, B & C wining in the most titles (on that side of the room), G and H coming in close: But the J - Z pile? What is up with 'S'? And 'M'? Is is our preference? Do we naturally gravitate to movies that start with these letters, or is it a trend in the movie industry?

Actually I could care less ... just needed a break and an excuse to sit in front of the computer since I was going into surfing withdrawls.

Back to 'work' ...

Those Three Words ...

I can't get them out of my head. "Alone again, naturally". Was humming the song and decided to look up the lyrics. It talks about committing suicide by throwing one's self off a tower, the death of his parents and God deserting him. A real upbeat song! Has nothing to do with my situation, but in honor of those three words, I made a playlist and posted it!