I Am Not Alone...

Last night as I tried to get to sleep, I kept feeling a "knock knock" on my belly.

It was in the same spot, not rhythmic at all, just a message from our little girl saying "Hi Mom" and "I'm in here!".

It's been stronger just these past couple of days...Very odd to have that sudden feeling of "Hey, what's THAT?!?" then realizing "Oh yeah, it's the baby."

I'm not alone!

SOLD

In less than 48 hours, my old house has been sold (or at least is under contract) to a friend of my next door neighbors'.

Now we just need to pass inspection, and we're good to go!

So strange to have that feeling of temporary-ness in this house. I do love it and will miss it a lot. Especially now that everything that was broken is now fixed. Ha.

I also sold my Subaru to a friend's cousin yesterday. He'll take it off my hands after I get the new one I'm buying next week.

So far, so good!

I'm Living In The Twilight Zone

It's May 31st, and my tabs expire TODAY. So, first I go to the testing place and my car passes emissions (miracle of miracles)...then I go to the DMV and I DID NOT WAIT FOR A SINGLE SECOND! I took a number and it popped up, and the lady who was serving me was actually READING THE PAPER and waiting for a customer!

IN WHAT ALTERNATE UNIVERSE DOES THAT HAPPEN!?!

THEN I bought a lottery ticket yesterday just for the heck of it...I think it's been 5 years since the last one...and I check the numbers this morning and found out I matched 4 numbers, so I won $40!

I'm feeling so lucky, I think I need to go up to Blackhawk and gamble

Scary Clean

I'm not a housekeeper by nature. I'm more of a "uh oh, it's starting to look like a tornado struck, so let's clean" kinda gal.

That said, I don't like dirty bathrooms or dirty kitchens, but the day that everything is clean ALL at the same time is a rare one, and it usually involves my husband Brian doing most of the work. Musician that he is, he's naturally a clean freak.

Yes, that was a joke.

But he really is a clean freak and a musician, and it does seem like a contradiction in terms.

Now, Brian left for parts beyond Colorado last weekend, and left me to get the house on the market. I have cleaned, dusted, touch-up painted, done some major and minor construction, and packed about 80% of my life into boxes and shoved them into storage.

As of today, my house is on the market. There's a big sign in the front yard, and here I sit in Pristineville and I'm afraid to do anything except sit on the computer for fear I'll mess up the house.

I'm tolerating my pets. Who naturally are not going to give a blip if I just cleaned this or that...they like to deposit hair and pee wherever they've done it before, with no consideration to all the work I've done.

I hope someone just buys my house soon. I hate living in scary clean conditions.

Who lives like this anyway? Anyone?

And I mean, Anyone who's not trying to sell their house?

Victory Over Plumbing is MINE.

It all started innocently enough.

But then, doesn't it always?

About five hours after Brian left town on a trip came The Drip.

Then a steady stream coming from the bathroom sink last night.

I knew where the water shutoff was. I figured I'd replace a washer in the morning, and I'd be done.

But NOoooooooooooooooooo.

I started to disassemble it, and before long I had stripped the threads, bent some copper stuff, and lo and behold, I was getting out more and more large tools and ripping the #*%&(@()*@$ out of the sink.

I never did find any washer.

My friend Delois came over and helped me remove the last vestiges of the old fixture because my hands were raw from wrenching on things that I have no torque to remove.

Back to Lowe's with me to buy a new fixture, which I did.

OK, here's a cutie shot of Delois' daughter Abigail who crawled under the sink to "help"!

Actually installation was nothing...but boy howdy, did that wreck my plans for today!

We Have A Healthy Baby Coming!

We have a HEALTHY little one in there!

Heart, Head, Spine, Tummy, Cord, Kidneys, Arms, Legs, It's ALL GOOD. Everything is measuring right at 18 weeks 1 day or so, so we're just a few days ahead.

We are SO RELIEVED! I can't even believe how much that made us feel so much better. DH was CRYING in the car on the way back.

AND


AS


FOR


TEAM!?!?!


WE

PEEKED.



We're

Pretty

Sure

It's

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GIRL!
(We didn't have a crotch shot, but the doctor said we should see some "twigs & berries" sticking out, and there weren't any...so they're thinking Team Pink!

Thank you all for your thoughts and prayers.

I'd post a picture but I've already packed the scanner. I'll have to shoot a picture of the ultrasound and post it later just for posterity. ;)

Today's Big U Day

This has been a tough week, a tough month, heck, a tough year.

But today is one of those days that could go one of two directions. Toughest ever, or "ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, I can breathe."

Maybe.

Today is Big Ultrasound Day. It's the day we go to look at our baby with a perinatologist at the Big Ultrasound machine to look at our baby and make sure that everything's ok.

Most people treat the Big Ultrasound as just a chance to see if they're having a boy or a girl. But it's so much more than that. The Big Ultrasound is a Level II ultrasound done between 18-20 weeks (about midway through the pregnancy), where they measure every little thing, from its leg bones, head circumference, to checking to make sure its major organs are in place and that the heart has four of everything it should -- four chambers -- four valves.

When Brian and I went to our ultrasound last year in June with Jacob, we had no idea that within 24 hours, our lives would be completely turned upside down.

You see, we thought we had "made it". After three early pregnancy losses, Jacob was the first to make it past the first trimester. All the literature says that once you get out of that first 12-13 weeks, you have less than a 5% chance of things going wrong.

Well, we were part of that 5 percent. Last time, anyway.

When people get pregnant after a loss (and I say people because Dads are expectant too), they often feel better once getting past that stage of their last loss.

For us, today is the day.

It's 5:45 a.m., and in 15 minutes, Brian will get up and it's Garage Sale day at our house. Thankfully, we'll be busy this morning, and when we go at 2 p.m. today, we'll hopefully see everything we need to assure us that this pregnancy is on track.

I have to say I do believe this baby is ok. I just need some proof and a pat on the shoulder from my favorite perinatologist.

It's not to say that I'll truly exhale until I'm counting fingers and toes on the baby in October, but it sure will help.

Doing The Time Warp

You know how time just bends sometimes?

I was just thinking to myself how it had to have been at least a week since I last blogged, and I looked at the calendar and saw that in fact, it had been all of three days.

Brian and I have worked hard to get the house ready to sell. We have the pokiest plumber on the planet working on the tub surround (thanks to my friend Delois, I have somewhere to shower at will), and that job's snail's pace alone feels like it's taking an eternity.

We've packed a good deal of the house. Right now a mere shell of what was once a crowded house is left. Nearly all knick-knacks, deluxe junk, and clutter has been cleared. Excess dishes, clothes and towels and other items have been packed into the garage and other places for storage.

And someone came to see our house before it's even on the market, and we found out today they're coming back again to see it tomorrow. Very encouraging news that is...to sell a house before it even hits the market would be FABULOUS.

I'm so tired, I feel like I have to watch it so I actually finish my sentences. I feel like this week has lasted forever...and like my layoff 3 weeks ago happened a year ago.

Tired. Exhausted. Ready to sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeep. Off to bed with me, but not before I say this:

The baby is doing well -- I feel more kicks and moves every day. And in about 40 hours we'll be peeking at it via ultrasound to see if it's as healthy as we think it is. We have considered checking gender and not checking gender, but so far the kid has not been cooperative, so it may be out of our hands anyway.

All we're praying for is healthy!

Happy Anniversary To Us

It's been seven years!

I've known my husband Brian since I was 14. I met him in the summer of 1981, just before my freshman year in high school, and he was a junior. His big brother David and my brother Jeff were best friends, and Brian was "tagging along" when he came over to our house to play D&D or Risk or something equally geeky. I fell for him immediately.

I chased him all through high school and college, and most of the time he ran the other way. I even joined band with my Dad's trumpet so I could have a class with him my sophomore year. We didn't date until my senior year when he came home from college for Christmas Break, and then we dated for years off and on, mostly off, until he went to graduate school in Colorado, and we broke up "permanently". I married someone else the next year.

He showed up in my life a few times while I was married (since his sister married my brother he was in the family), and he played music at my Dad's funeral, but other than that I didn't see him much.

After I got divorced in 1996, DH called me out of the blue in 1998 (yeah, nothing like waiting a good 2 years, LOL) and said he was coming to Seattle for a camping trip and some friend's wedding, and asked if I wanted to have lunch with him. I was dating someone at the time, so nothing happened. Except Brian kept trying to hold my hand the whole time. LOL. We went to a mutual friend's house for dinner, and Alison took me to the store, and we were barely in the car when she blurted out "WHY AREN'T YOU TWO TOGETHER?". I told her I lived in Seattle and he was in Denver, and.. and.. and.. excuses. When I left Brian that night I gave him a hug that he said "lasted long enough that I knew I still meant something to you."

By the end of the summer, I had broken up with the guy I was seeing, and Brian got an internet connection, and before we knew it, we were talking to each other in AOL chat rooms and sending e-mails. By the next spring, I came to see him in Denver, and by the next summer of 1999, he moved to Seattle to be with me and we quickly got engaged.

In the spring of 2000, 5/20/2000, DH and I married in his parents' back yard. It was a beautiful day, and his brother Peter performed the ceremony, and most of the family was either in the wedding or did something for it. The few non-relative friends who came said they felt like they crashed a family reunion, since both sides knew each other so well. Brians sister Judy and my brother Jeff had been married for 13 years at that point.


DH and I have walked through fire together these past 5 years of trying to have a baby. And as you know some things have been rougher than others, but we've stuck together, with a love that's true. This morning he and I woke up and I showed him my tummy, and it MOVED. We both sat there (while I tried holding my breath) and watched the kid go from side to side a couple of times before settling in. We're 17 weeks today.

I love my Brian more than anything. He has proved his love and devotion to me, and I try to do the same. He is, as my mom says, like my father who was "loyal, faithful & true."

AND, I must add, he's a good kisser.

Thanks for letting me share.

Home Sweet Dusty Home

I love our house here in Denver.

Not everyone knows the story of how I came to this house...My husband rented it with a bunch of guys for years before buying it himself, then continuing to rent rooms to his friends.

About the time Brian and I were talking to each other, but not really dating, me in Seattle and he here in Denver, he bought the house. And within a couple of years, he moved out to Seattle, we got married, and eventually we moved back to this house in the Northwest corner of the Mile High City.

I love this place in a lot of respects. When we got here, there was a dartboard in the kitchen, a keg fridge on the front porch, and no one had dutifully painted anything, fixed any fixtures, or uncluttered anything. For years.

There were a few guys here sharing our house over the course of a few years. Some were more horrified than others to find a girl among them. One in particular would rather I just hadn't shown up at all, as I immediately took charge of cleaning out the house of things no one owned, and making space for the truckload of stuff I brought with me.

I remember asking as I pulled a large, dark and foreboding painting of a knight in full armor off the wall whose it was, and the answer was "I don't know. It was here when I moved in," by all three of our guys. OK, so it goes to the dumpster, I'd say.

Not everyone was thrilled with my get-the-crap-outta-here attempts at decluttering.
Not to mention the constant construction zone I created when I started making all the improvements.

To make it easy for you to picture how bad things were: When I arrived, the toilet in the lone bathroom was held together by a chopstick.

No joke.

I've painted every room IN the house. I've painted the exterior. I've replaced all the light fixtures except maybe one. New kitchen flooring, new front porch flooring, bad panelling down, new moulding up, new fixtures in all sinks, tubs, and toilets. All things that desperately needed to be done.

I'll never forget Bob Gray coming over after having been gone for a few years to teach in Taiwan, and his exclamation over the house's transformation.

"I didn't think this place could be saved!" he said.

But it was saved.

I can say that I'll miss this house. I love old houses in general, because they're quirky, and the result of many different people having lived in the same space, though not together. There are upgrades that say something about each person, or lack of upgrades, and still others like mine that perhaps someone will notice, perhaps they won't.

But in the midst of all this bragging about what I HAVE done for this house, let me tell you my downfall. I am a horrible duster.

As I'm going through my house deciding what stays, what goes, what sells at the garage sale tomorrow -- I'm finding that my lack of dusting in this house has done nothing but kick up all the dust that's gathered in those hard-to-reach, often-not-perhaps-never dusted spots. And so I sneeze.

But I will miss this home, sweet dusty home.

Two Things That Need Improvement

I've made a couple of observations lately, namely two products in my life that need improvement.

One: Who needs "medium hold" hairspray? Why do they bother? Are there actually people out there who want to have their hair held in one place, only for half the day? Or maybe just not that well to begin with?

As I'm going through my bathroom "decluttering" it before we put it on the market, I'm finding a number of hair products that I've tried, but that have failed me miserably. Instead of tossing them (because they're practically full), I keep them for that day that I might run out of the products I actually use.

I don't care if anyone touches my hair, so if it doesn't look completely shellacked, but it doesn't move either, that's my kind of hair product. I like Fructis Fiber Gum Putty for a gel (maximum strength, thank you) to get my hair to go where it should. But Garnier makes the crappiest hairspray ever, so I move on to the cheap but highly effective rave 4xmega hairspray. Holds it without looking like it's trying.

All maximum strength for me, thanks. I do my hair but once a day, max.

Two: I'm usually not a breakfast person, except when I'm taking prenatal vitamins, I'm forced to eat something before I down the vitamins, so cereal is the best.

LIFE cinnamon flavored cereal is the perfect cereal, except that you feel like you have 30 seconds to eat it before it turns to mush. There's nothing like pouring milk into the bowl and suddenly realizing you don't have a spoon and knowing you've lost that many more seconds of crunchy goodness.

I don't need that kind of stress.

A Bittersweet Mother's Day

Today I woke up to the feeling of a gentle "bump" in my belly. My baby, on today of all days, decided to make sure I knew s/he was here.

It's Mother's Day here in the States, and today I am also 16 weeks pregnant.

It's a bittersweet day for me today. Anyone who has struggled with infertility or loss, or both, knows that Mother's Day can be a tough day.

I took the small heart-shaped urn that has Jacob's ashes in it and held it in the palm of my hand, shed several tears, and told my boy I will always miss him and never forget him.

No matter how many children you have, if you've lost one due to miscarriage, stillbirth or infant death, new children never replace the ones you lost.

And yet, this morning waking up to the gentle "bump" of the kicks of my new baby, I had to smile, because my future is in there, and s/he has no idea what a gift they gave me today. Instead of just crying, I can smile at the same time today.

And for that I am thankful to my little one.

Happy Mother's Day to all you Moms, those with children both in heaven and on earth. And for those who have suffered as I have, a gentle hug to you.

Home to Oregon

There's this funny thing about home. Home is such a weird idea really. It's not so much a place for many people. My brother the consumate traveller said that "home is where your suitcase is."

But for my husband it's Colorado. For me it will always be the Northwest, specifically Oregon and Washington states.

Brian and I both grew up in the Northwest, but we were also born in different countries. When people ask me where I'm from, it's always been a tough one to answer. I was born in Brazil to American parents who were there for 8 years, then moved back to the States.

We lived first in Eastern Oregon, the Western Washington, and I lived in Seattle for the first 15 years of my adult life, and I finally felt like I had a city that I could call my adopted home.

For years, I felt like an odd-man out, just because I never belonged anywhere. I used to envy people whose roots were deep, whose families had spent generations in one spot.

As early as my Dad's early childhood, those roots existed in my family too. Grandma Peterson lived for 60 years in one house on 2395 High Street in a town not far from Portland, and until she died, it was the house that emotionally anchored me and my family because we knew that was the one thing that did not change in the midst of all our moves.

My Dad was born and raised in Oregon -- mostly in and around Portland, and went to the University of Oregon. Mom always joked that he was such an Oregon Duck that he had webbed feet.

Jokes against the Oregon State Beavers go like this recent line from my brother, who said "I have a friend named John and he might be able to find you a house in the area. Aside from being a Beaver, he is fairly trustworthy..."

My husband accepted a position in Oregon today.

He's actually happy about it now, and seems to enjoy the prospect of a new adventure and a new start for our family. This wasn't taken lightly, given how much we both love it here in Denver.

But in the end, I think it is the best decision. We will be moving soon, from the Rocky Mountain state to the Oregon Territory, a move that I never thought would happen, but now I'm thrilled to say IS going to happen. We'll live within an hour or two of my Mom and brother, and just a few away from my sister and other family.
We'll live near the coast, my gorgeous Pacific Ocean, where I still stand as an adult, feeling so small and delightfully insignificant, and trying to picture Japan and China at the other end of the horizon.

A much as I'll miss Colorado, there will be no more Christmases alone and wishing we could get home. And what really does it for me is that I smile at the thought of my baby growing up knowing his grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins.

Anticipation...It's Making Me Crazy

I'm not a patient person.

I hate waiting.

We have a few irons in the fire when it comes to employment. My husband has been offered a job on the West Coast near family, and we're seriously considering taking it. Meanwhile, I've interviewed here for a couple of jobs, and then I sit and wait...because answers never come in bundles. I can't accept something here if I'm moving there. I wait for an answer and a phone call that I know is coming, but nonetheless, I'm not patient about waiting, even while I'm doing it.

I've been in the newspaper business for most of my adult life, or working in some version of marketing and advertising when I wasn't at a newspaper.

I quit working for newspapers in 2001 when I moved to Denver, primarily because at that point in my life it had been ALL I'd ever done since I was 18, and I wanted to find out what the Real World was like.

Once I found out, I was happy to return to the newspaper business. It is unique in a lot of ways, in that it carries isn't just another business selling services, but is part of the social justice, government watchdog class of businesses, of which there are so very few and of which are so very important.

I got laid off from my last job in part because the business itself is changing -- and not necessarily for the better. People are choosing a million other ways to advertise, from Craigslist to CareerBuilder and Vehix.com, instead of running ads in the newspaper. Smaller newspapers=smaller staff, and I was one of them.

I am unsure of whether to continue in what is essentially, a dying business. I consider other options to use my journalism degree (besides blogging), and I wonder what lies ahead.

So I work on the house, I consider what I'd need to sell this place if we do move, and I start working on it, then wonder if I should bother since we're not 100% sure yet. Then I think I need to get moving because if we DO decide to go, we'll need the house on the market and it has to be ready.

Aren't I a fun circular thinker?

Anticipation. That song by Carly Simon keeps popping in my head. I have murderous thoughts of that big mouthed, toothy singer and the stupid Ketchup commercial that stole/borrowed/bought the song.

The one lyric keeps popping in my head:
Anticipation...It's making me wait.

I may be doing it anyway, but it doesn't change the fact that I hate waiting.

Mouthful of Cat

My kitten Jack's usual favorite spot at night is to escounce himself right between Brian and me. But this morning, he was on my side, cuddling and purring.

I yawned, bigger and longer than usual apparently, because Jack thought he might check out that new cavern that just opened up in Jules' head.

When my mouth snapped shut, the cat got a little surprise, and so did I~.

Hmm, I'm not sure which is grosser. A mouthful of cat, or the fact that Jack was so curious about my morning-breath mouth.

No Paparazzi, Please!

We saw the kid today. I call him/her Pumpkin because the due date is right around Halloween, in case I haven't mentioned it.

Pumpkin apparently thought that the Lucky Charms I had for a snack before our appointment were quite tasty, because s/he was dancing a little jig on her little sugar high, so we could barely stop the frame enough at the ultrasound to look at it again.

Lots of top-of-the-head shots, a shot of the feet (lounging for exactly a split second, crossed at some point), and well, we tried to see gender since it's just late enough we could see a little wee-wee if s/he was a he...but we couldn't get a look there either.

I don't believe for one minute it was shyness, because that doesn't run in the family.

Pumpkin's head and leg (femur) are measuring at about 16 weeks -- the head 16 weeks 3 days, and about 16 right on for the leg. Considering we're not quite 15 weeks, that's a great thing.

Ahead is good.

We didn't get a picture today for no particular reason except I didn't ask and she didn't offer. But as I stared at the screen, I imagined the arms that come up in front of Pumpkin's face are just one of those movements that say "No pictures, please! No paparazzi!"

It was neat to see the little kid. I never get bored looking at my baby, wondering what's going to happen next in this crazy "routine" pregnancy I never thought I'd live to see.

Another Appointment Today!

I have a 3:30 appointment to peek at the kid today. I can't wait to see the little tyke.

I Need To Know Where We're Going

Brian and I have been having a pretty big conversation lately. I don't usually bring marriage type stuff to my blog, since this is, after all, a fairly public place.

But I feel the need to type this out.

Brian has been offered a job in Washington State, near both our families. He doesn't want it mostly because he doesn't want to sell the house and leave Colorado.

I, on the other hand, have been laid off from my second job in a row here, and feel less connected to this city & state, and would love to live near family, especially with a baby on the way.

The job doesn't start out paying a lot, but it's a living wage and there is a lot of potential for quick growth. It's in a field Brian would even enjoy.

Brian's currently working two jobs at absurd hours, and very low pay. One of these jobs is even temporary, so it will be over in September, and then we'll have one job between us, which is part time. This new job would give him a normal working week and he'd make as much or more than he is now.

You'd think he'd do this for the family, but instead all I get is push back.

I certainly thought a pregnant unemployed wife who wants to go home would trump the "I don't wanna's" coming out of my husband, but that's not the case.

It seems to make sense to everyone else I discuss it with. Yet he still thinks that he is right in resisting.

Never in a million years did I think that if I ever had to say "Take me home" under these conditions (with me pregnant and jobless, with a great job opportunity waiting for him) did I think my husband would balk at me. I always thought he'd say "Sure hon, let me take you home," even if he did lament leaving Denver.

Please pray for us.

Thursday's Treat

I don't know if I've mentioned Saint John much.

John is our Nurse Practitioner at the OB/GYN clinic where we go for the baby stuff. He was very nice and helped us with lots of ultrasounds when Jacob was with us, and John was just crushed when he heard about our loss, since once we found Jacob's problems, we ended up moving up the medical food chain to a Perinatologist instead of John or any of his regular OBs John works for.

John's been such a saint to us -- when I called and told him of this pregnancy, he was instantly upbeat. I told him I was scared and he said "Of course you are. But the there's still only one way to have a baby of your own" (well, there are other ways, but it sure can get complicated, right?).

So John's seen us a few times, and has offered to let us see an ultrasound whenever we want, to put our minds at ease.

The last time we saw our little one was April 6, so by this past week I was getting a little edgy. It's hard to explain how my brain works (isn't it always?) but I'm able to think everything is pretty much fine for about 2 weeks, and then I start to worry.

So Thursday, we went in and saw our baby again.

It's nothing short of a miracle how much growth goes into a baby at these early stages. Our little one has bones forming (you can see them because they're whiter than his/her other outlines), we saw arms, legs, fingers & toes. At one point, Saint John said "We got a thumbsucker!" and sure enough, there was our baby, sucking on his/her thumb, which at this point must be about the size of a pepper seed.
Then we saw it was rubbing his eyes, and moving a lot the whole time.

Relief.

I'll tell you, if you have a crappy doctor or nurse -- keep looking. There's nothing like having someone care enough about you to say "call me if you need anything, here's MY direct line" and assure you that you can get the medical care you need when you need it to put your mind at ease. Anyone else, especially in pregnancy, is a waste of your time and money.

Thankfully, we have our Saint John.

My Last Day At Work

I was taken to lunch by some managers from work today after a few hours of work.

Lunch was fairly fun even though I went with three guilt-ridden managers and another gal getting laid off...and one of them seriously said "I'm trying to look on the bright side of all this" like three times (til I finally said "I'm so glad YOU can look on the bright side of this, B.") but I said it with a GREAT deal of dripping sarcasm/humor.

I came back and found my checks were ready for my severance and last paycheck, etc., and I decided I was done. I sent a few e-mails out to customers to let them know I was leaving, asked my boss if I could go, and I said my goodbyes and left around 3-3:30. I got a lot of hugs and people asking me to keep them updated about the baby (I told them about Pumpkin this past week).

One of my customers (Ron from a big liquor store here in town) was so mad he called me and told me he "reemed" one of the managers about letting me go. He asked who his boss was, and ended up asking for the VP's phone number (the one who I want to work for), so I told this customer to "ease up on the VP" since I'm trying to get a job as this VP's assistant. LOL Ron called me later and said "I talked to your boy Greg" and I asked how it went, and he said "Good!" So I don't know what that means.

As for the job -- I sent an e-mail to the VP & the Director who were supposed to get back to me today and thanked them for the enjoyable interview, and that I could tell they were stuck in a meeting, but I needed to leave for the day and asked them to call me at home with their decision since today is my last day. I haven't heard from them today, but then I didn't expect to. Every newspaper moves slower than Congress.

I went to the bank, went home, and just napped a bit til Brian got home. We just got back from a very nice dinner at our favorite cheap eats Middle Eastern place down by DU. He's been working his second job a lot, and Friday nights are nice because he doesn't have to work at UPS so we can see each other and sleep in the same bed all night and act like we're married.

I wore one of the maternity shirts my friend Deb H sent me with my drawstring capris out to dinner...amazing how much MORE pregnant you look when you bite the bullet and wear the maternity wear! HA

The Bump

Well, there's no doubt I'm starting to show. My fat pants are too skinny.

I've started getting the few maternity clothes I own out of the basement. A friend sent me some more, but I just haven't been able to wear them yet. I find myself not really willing to go there yet, and I don't quite have to.

I'll tell you what though. There is nothing in the world quite as cool as hearing the baby's heartbeat whenever I want to with the Doppler. It sounds like galloping horses...and I hear the swipes s/he takes at the wand. It is too cool!

Fill 'er Up

I couldn't get full tonight.

I ate dinner. About a half hour ago I ate a bowl of Lucky Charms (healthy, I know).

I'm going to bed soon and I still can't get full, in fact I just feel empty-stomach.

So I made a nice big glass of organic milk with some Hershey's syrup in it. (healthy, I know).

But I haven't had a glass of chocolate milk in decades. And it was really good.

And I feel full enough to sleep now.

This kid is probably in there going what is THIS?

Oh wait. Kids love chocolate milk. Right? I know I do.

Off My Butt (Today).

Wow, I hit the end of my 12th week of pregnancy today, and this morning I actually woke up with some energy.

Exhaustion is part of that first trimester package that comes with nausea and oddball food cravings, because when you think about it, in a matter of 84 days, this kid has gone from two cells to 2 inches tall, with all his/her organs in place, limbs formed and a heartbeat going crazy...and it all came from me. Well, except that one part.

But the birds & the bees is not what this is about.

So, I've been tired. So very tired that I've needed a nap after a nap. But today was different. I finally hit that magical day when energy returns, and while the nausea hasn't subsided, at least I can get a few things done.

So much for a restful Sunday.

Today, I've done a million loads of laundry (one of those days when you decide to wash ALL your blankets AND your clothes), helped Brian clean the house (he's been handling way too much of it lately), then went to lunch with a friend (who I haven't seen since New Year's, shame on me).

THEN I drove to the store and bought Brian some badly needed socks (he'll wear them til there are holes in the holes). So, I know his brand and I buy them for him because I know he never will.

AFTER THAT Lucy and I went for a walk at the park, (because there's nothing like seeing a dog's face when she realizes the leash is coming out and she gets to GO!). Besides, it must be 75* outside today, and there is absolutely no excuse for sitting around on a day like today.

Somewhere in there, I figured out our budget to get a real feel for how much money we'll need to scrape by (if I land on unemployment for any stretch of time).

Just making a couple of lists and talking them over with Brian helped me a lot. It may have scared the shit out of him, (but at least we're on the same page).

NOW, I want a nap!

Just Shoot Me.

I thought my previous post was all the news I needed for this year.

But instead, I found out today I'm being laid off from my job at the end of the month. And the company doesn't have the goodness to even pay my benefits for an extra month or two.

This sucks.

"You BETTER Be Paying Attention To This One!"

Yes, those are the precise words I said to God Himself.

That is, when I discovered I was pregnant recently.

That's right. And I still am.

And for no particular reason, other than God listening to not a prayer, not a plea, but that rather righteously indignant mouth of mine, as of today everything is going fine.

I am almost 12 weeks along today.

I've been hiding under/behind a rock for the past 8 weeks or so since we found out. I've probably puzzled more than a few people by not being around, not going to get-togethers, not doing much of anything.

Part of it was abject fear, not wanting to share any news until we had something good to tell, and part of it was just flat out pregnancy symptoms that include my incredibly tired body needing some 11 hours of sleep a night, and getting it.

So, here's what we know so far.

We did what is called a Nuchal Fold Test -- or Nuchal Translucency Test, which recently gave us some idea of the danger our child was in (or not) without actually doing anything horribly invasive like an amniocentisis or CVS test. The folds on the back of a baby's neck are measured with ultrasound, and at 11 weeks (when we took it) anything near 3 millimeters would have been very worrisome, under 2 would have probably been cause for further testing, and under 1.3 mm is considered ideal.

Our baby measured .9 mm on most of its measurements (they took several), and 1 mm on the last one. Very good results!

Taken with some bloodwork measuring two different pregnancy protein levels, our genetics counselor Joy gave us some figures to deal with that would give OUR baby specific chances of whether it had Down Syndrome (the familiar name for Trisomy 21), or Edward's Syndrome (Trisomy 18, which our son Jacob had before he died last summer).

So, yesterday afternoon Joy called said "We have CAUSE FOR CELEBRATION!"

The results were give to us in two stages -- one to tell us what our "average" odds are if we hadn't taken the test (for all women my age and history), then the results given our measurement and the bloodwork. The important thing is for the chances to be smaller (for example, going from 1/50 to 1/1000).

For Down Syndrome for women my age -- odds are 1/47 on average -- for ME with my test it's dropped to 1/810. She said that's the same as a healthy 27-year-old!

Trisomy 18 -- What Jacob had -- given our history, average odds would be 1/73 -- with my test, we bottomed out, to 1/10,000! She said the chances are even smaller, but that's the smallest number they give out!

I hope that makes sense. It basically all but rules out any dangerous markers for the two major genetic defects we were worried about. We'll wait til 18 weeks to get an ultrasound to look at everything. I am 12 weeks now, so only 6 more weeks til that test. But this was VERY good news.

Here's a picture of our little one as of last Friday. You can probably make out the profile and the leg & foot on the upper right hand side of ultrasound. This baby is measuring a few days ahead (which is a very good sign too), and has a fast heartrate of 163-170 beats per minute that we can already hear with the Doppler my friend Becky loaned me.

As it turns out, old wives' tales say a fast heartrate points to a girl, but personally, I've been dreaming "boy" a lot, so who knows.

All we want is healthy.

So there ya go -- I'm out of the closet with this one. Prayers & positive thoughts, whatever you're capable of, are always appreciated.

But you don't have to shake your fist and yell at God, "You BETTER be paying attention to this one!"

I've already done it, and I'm pretty sure He is.

Spring Has Sprung!

This morning I woke up to yet another round of "Oh look, honey, it's snowing".

Happy Easter!

I decided to start putting a date stamp on my snow pictures so you and I can both tell the difference from one snow storm to the next.

Do you know how you can tell Spring is here in this picture? That's right, look at the big tree above the car and on the bush across the street. See the green on it?

Despite all the talk of global warming, we're not seeing a lot of it here yet. And really, a spring storm in the Rockies is just not all that unusual. The sheer numbers of storms we've had this year is what's amazing to us.

Oh well. As Brian said, June is still coming, RIGHT?

Yes. But whether it snows in June is yet to be seen.

Cheesecake Misadventures, Or, "No Need To Call The Fire Department!"

I was invited to a friend's house for Easter dinner, and offered to bring whatever my hostess wanted, and she asked if I'd bring dessert. Well, I make a pretty mean cheesecake with my Mom's old-fashioned add-all-the-fat-and-calories-'cause-it'll-taste-better Better Homes & Gardens cookbook from 1960.

Well, since I decided to make a chocolate swirl cheesecake, I didn't want to use the lemon-based crust like I usually do, and instead make the graham-cracker crust that was in the pie section.

Now mind you, I didn't put any flour in it, just graham crackers, butter & sugar, and when I made my cheesecake (prebake the bottom, then attach the spring form part, and make the rest) I discovered that a BUNCH of the butter was melting through the cracks of the springform pan, hitting the burner at the bottom of the stove, and during that first 10-12 minutes at 450 degrees, I was in just a wee bit of danger of a fire starting in my kitchen.

I have NEVER seen so much smoke in my life! It was just BILLOWING out of the oven, and filled the kitchen. I popped open the kitchen windows (it's about 30* outside), and found that wasn't enough.

I put a pizza pan under the cheesecake, and that's when I discovered the leaky butter.

I turned down the oven and Brian started fans and opened up windows and doors all over the place. I wondered out loud if all the smoke billowing out of the house would prompt the neighbors to investigate whether they needed to call the Fire Department. I could just see it now, Brian yelling "No need to call the fire department, my wife's just baking again!"

Once I turned down the oven and had the pizza pan to catch the drips, it did fine.

The picture posted is the actual photo of today's adventure. Looks good though, huh? I hope it doesn't smell as charred as my house does!

Sweetness In Seattle

I was born in one city, raised in three more, educated in at least three, and upon my college years, arrived in Seattle for a sweet 15 years of college, friends, jobs, and overall I would say some of the best years of my life. For my 40th birthday, my Mom, sister, and sisters-in-law flew me out to Seattle to celebrate with a "Girls' Weekend", and what it was was one of the most wonderful weekends I've ever had.

To say it was "touching" would be an understatement. It was full of surprises, and just to see how many people love me that much -- to make a weekend of fun for me, feeding me at all my favorite restaurants, and following me all over as I drove and stopped and drove and stopped to see something else -- it was just plain perfect.
The BIG surprise was was that my friend Deb McCormick from high school, and my friend Teri from my old Seattle Times days (she now lives in Utah), flew in to join us girls for the weekend. My sister-in-law Stephanie said when I saw them and shrieked, that she'd honestly never seen me so shocked and surprised in my life. While I'm not unflappable, I'm also pretty gullible -- like when someone tells me it's just us family girls for the weekend -- I actually believed my lying sister!
After the screaming, crying, hugging and laughing at the Starbucks near the hotel -- a clamor that made the hotel security guy from the Grand Hyatt come over to "make sure everything was ok" -- we headed down to the Pike Place Market a few blocks away. From Left to Right is my posse: Stephanie, Jill, Mom, Teri, Judy & Debbie)

It's Springtime in Seattle, which translates into rain & tulips! The market was GORGEOUS with so many flower vendors, it looked like they had completely taken over. I took in the sights & sounds, the smells and the odd feeling of being a tourist in my own home town. I'd have that feeling a lot this weekend!
Then it was time to go to lunch at my FAVORITE RESTAURANT EVER: THAI HEAVEN. My three best friends from my years at the University of Washington came to meet Teri, Deb & I for lunch. It amazes me how neat it is to hook up with old friends -- you know them so well -- and yet our lives keep moving forward and we spend a nice long leisurely lunch catching up. That, and the Paradise Chicken, it's by far the best way one could spend an afternoon. From Left to Right -- Shan Pie, Jules Pie, Jess Pie, and Kim Pie. Yes, that's an old college thing. We still haven't dropped it.
A little time hanging out downtown, and it was time to head to dinner! We made reservations at Arnies on Northshore. Or at least we thought we did! The downside of being gone so long is you don't realize your favorite restaurant may have closed! Arnies, just above Gasworks Park in Seattle, is no more. But my sister did, by mistake, make reservations at the Arnies up in Edmonds.

Well, of course that wouldn't do. We came to the city, not to eat in the 'burbs. Not tonight anyway. My other choice (and I'll never call it my second) was to call Salty's on Alki Beach in West Seattle. Thankfully, the kind folks at Salty's had room for us. This photo is one of the views of downtown from Salty's. Stunning, perfect, and one that kept drawing comments all night as we cornered a perfect table with a view of the water, my beloved Space Needle, and ferries coming and going.
The seven of us first had appetizers and drinks in the bar, then we moved to our lovely table, where I ordered Alaskan King crab for dinner. A full pound of crab -- and it was only TWO pieces (check out my plate!). The legs were so big, I swore they killed THE King Crab, not just "A King Crab." Now, there's good eatin'
It took a million tries, and I know this isn't the best photo ever, but I took my new camera out onto Salty's deck, in the wind and rain with no tripod, somewhere between dinner and dessert to get this photo. I took a lot, and I'm still not through them all, but this gives you an idea of the view.
The next morning, after saying goodbye to Teri & Deb, the family headed up to Anthony's Homeport on Shilshole Bay in Ballard for brunch! My little brother Jeremy (pictured here) took the train all the way down from Bellingham to have breakfast with us, my brother-in-law John brought my nephews John M. & Erik, and my niece Miriam up from Gig Harbor, AND
My in-laws (Bev & Armin) came down from Mount Vernon to have brunch with all of us too! In all, 12 of us at a classic P-M get-together with lots of talking, eating and laughing. Someone at a table near us said how we were "obviously a very happy family". Amen to that!




The rest of the afternoon I spent with my sister, her family, and Jeremy & Stephanie, as we wandered through some bad art downtown, over to The Seattle Center for lunch, and one last peek through the trees at my beloved Space Needle.

Thanks guys. I've never felt so special, and enjoyed so much time with so many beloved friends and family. I love you all.

Something Grand For My 40th

I had more than one birthday celebration, but I'm just out of the car on this one, and needed to share this GREAT picture a German couple took of Brian and me at the Grand Canyon Friday morning.

Brian had never been before this trip. My favorite thing was to hear him say "Wow," several times, out of the blue, as he pondered the beautiful GRAND Canyon's size.
The last time I was at the Grand Canyon was for my 30th birthday -- I was newly divorced, and spent much of my time in a Flagstaff hotel, holed up with a typewriter and writing whatever came into my head. As another 10 years had passed, and I remembered where I'd been for my 30th, it felt like a trip back to the scene of one of Nature's masterpieces was absolutely necessary.

And I can say it was perfect.

We're Walking, We're Walking...

Nothing lights my dog up like knowing she's going "go". This morning, I got up fairly early and ran some errands, and all I have to say is "Does Lucy want to GO?" and she lights up like a Christmas tree.

After we got back, I decided we should go to the dog park. The leash doesn't have to come out. Lucy recognizes my SHOES. THAT pair of Nikes come out, and she's buggy knowing she's on her way to her Happy Place.

My Lucy was found in the back of a K-Mart when she was just a few weeks old, in a town called Yakima, Washington. Brian and I were living there when our house was broken into, and I told the landlady that I wanted to get a dog to help protect the house.

She ok'd it, and I gave her an extra $100 deposit for whatever damage a puppy could do, and off to the Humane Society we went.

My dog was pretty much front and center as we entered the pound where the dogs were kept. She was the ONLY dog that wasn't barking her head off. Then she put her paw up to the cage as I talked to her, and well, that was it. That was 7 years ago now.

She barks when people come on the property, and she's protective, but she's a very good girl. She loves little kids, and little kids love her. My favorite thing on a walk is when a kid runs to Lucy saying "DOGGIE!" and I stop Lucy, have her sit, and let the kid pet her. She's happy. The kid's happy. I'm happy.

This past year I've noticed that she's getting to be middle aged -- slowing down a bit, and as I pet her and stare into her eyes, I realize she won't be with us forever, and that's why I need to appreciate her more than I have, and take her for more walks.

Lucy, I'm sure, thinks that's a TERRIFIC idea.

Random Thoughts on a Sunny Sunday

What's for breakfast:

Brian's cooking me some sausage, eggs and hashbrowns. I love a good breakfast burrito with that stuff in it. I can't eat like that all week, but weekend breakfasts are indulgent and yummy!

Shortest Weather Report Ever:

It's sunny outside, and we expect to get up to the 60s this week. I think I heard a "whew, I think we made it" out of most Coloradans.

But unfortunately, the bulk of the snow we usually get is in March and April. I hope not March, only because the next few weeks are going to involve some travel.

Plans for my birthday!:

March 15, I'm flying to Seattle a week ahead of my 40th birthday for a girls' weekend with my Mom, sister and sisters in law.

March 21, Brian and I are driving to the Grand Canyon and Phoenix for a long weekend.

Hold weather, hold.

Movie watched:

I watched the movie "Infamous", about Truman Capote and his research for the book In Cold Blood, both of which I adored (the book & this movie). There were a number of smart lines in it, but one came from a Kansas farmer, expressing his fears about how no matter how good you are, bad things happen.

It was short, but the man spoke of Mr. Clutter, the father of the murdered family, and what a good man he was. How doing good things anchor you to the earth, and how Mr. Clutter had done so much. "But," the man said, "a wind -- whether it's the cancer, and accident or just something evil like this -- can blow and lift you up so much as a leaf. You're in control until you're not anymore. Then you're not." I just thought it was genius writing, and all too true.

This is NOT the version with well-known actor Phillip Seymour Hoffman, but Daniel Craig plays Perry, one of the killers, and a good ensemble cast with Sandra Bullock, Sigourney Weaver, and a number of other famous actors play various roles.

We just got Little Miss Sunshine and I can't wait to watch it.

Hair Update:

I took the liberty of calling up James, who happened to answer the phone at Regis hair salon last Sunday, and had him fix my dreadful Dorothy Hamill Haircut before another week was spent in public with it, and before any pictures could be taken.

Thank you, James.

Dorothy Hamill? Again?

I got a bad haircut tonight. I told the gal what I wanted, and I got something, um, well, different.

People often make the mistake that somehow VOLUME in hair is good.

My hair is short. It's shorter now. But now, when I dry it and any volume is applied, I look like I did when I was 9 years old in 1976, when Dorothy Hamill won the Gold for Olympic skating, and we all wanted her hairdo. Mom gave us $5 to walk down to what amounted to a Supercuts and get our Hamill 'do and all was right in the world.

I think I'm having a flashback.

Jules' Brain Does Not Shut Off

When someone doesn't blog for a long time I figure they have a lot going on or nothing.

In my case, it's a little of both.

Aside from not feeling well physically these past several days, which pretty much reduced me to laying around a lot, there is that little matter of the fact that "Jules' Brain Does Not Shut Off."

You see, I'm what my brother calls a "processor". Like my brother Jeff, we both turn things over, sideways and backways, analyzing it at each turn, showing it to others sometimes, and asking if they see what we see. Jeff and I have lovely conversations because of it. We recently had a conversation about immigration and its different effects and ultimately, how each country is different in how it approaches newcomers. While Jeff was telling me a bit about the differences between England's and France's approach from Jeff's more clinical, Sociologist's perspective, I realized how much I appreciate having my brother to talk about this stuff. Not everyone can look at a social problem with the aid of a Ph.D. in Sociology like I have in my brother.

The cool thing about Jeff and my talks is that we can both look at things, even quite differently, but when we're in "processing" mode, we help each other see things through to some sort of conclusion, even if we end up at a dead end and both pronounce it as "I don't know what the hell that's about." But I promise you, we still work on it to figure it out.

This same process hits me in particular when things aren't right in the world, and as many of you know, things have not been right in my world for a long time.

I hit an all time low in my life a week or so ago. There's nothing like taking stock of yourself at what you believe at least, is and hopefully will be your lowest point.

Last Wednesday was the 7th month mark since Jacob was born and lost. Add to that that my 40th birthday is looming like Colorado's latest snowstorm (read: relentlessly), and this whole year, I've concluded, is going to pretty much suck when it comes to anniversaries, milestones, and general feelings on the subject. I'd say about the worst depression I've ever felt has been in the past month, as the New Year dawned, and I realized that another milepost had come and gone since our tragic experience with Jacob.

But in the midst of all this pondering and licking my wounds, I also realized that it's "just going to be this way for a while", and that has its benefits. It takes the necessity of trying to make it all ok in my head away, and that's a tremendous burden lifted.

I've also made some progress in my general outlook this past week because of a friend, and one flat-out stranger said.

My friend Jenny called me this weekend. She called late, we talked for an hour, then she had to put her kid to bed. After she did that, she called me back. Two hours later, we had talked about so many things, and at the end of it, I felt normal, even GOOD. I felt happy to have such a great friend who listened, made some really good insights into what we've been through, and then we moved on to other things. The cool thing about Jenny is that we've only known each other a few years, but she's got me figured out like some of my 20+ year friends. She's not afraid to poke fun, and she is there when you need her. If you're reading this Jenny: Thank you.

Then Sunday night The Grammys were on, and Mary J. Blige won her first award, which was taken up with thanking something like 50 people...and upon her 2nd Grammy win, she said something that stuck with me: "You learn who you really are when you're at your lowest."

Tears sprouted from my eyes, and all I said was "Amen, Sister."

The fact is, I think if we're paying attention, we don't have to have tragedy teach us lessons. But it takes a lot to learn from even the bad shit in the world because it's really easy to let it turn into a Poor Me Fest. If nothing else, I've learned to be kinder, gentler, and more tolerant of others as we learn the worst and greatest lessons of life's fragility.

But sometimes it's also a matter of being kinder, gentler and more tolerant of ourselves.

I find the most important thing is to be patient with myself, and believe me, that's no small feat. There aren't too many people who would classify me as "patient", in fact I think most would argue I was flat out missing in that line when they were handing out Patience before I was born. I like to think that's part of my drive to be better, but it also becomes a bit of an albatross around my neck, as I often find myself expecting much more of myself than I could, should, or otherwise would.

I expect to be fine. I expect to come out of this. But I also know that's impossible on some level right now. As I contemplate what happened to us, and I start peeking into the future, I see where I want to be and know I'm nowhere near "there". The impatient Jules says "hurry up" and the logical Jules says "slow down, you've had a lot happen."

Then I imagine people in my life who don't know me well, will see my penchant for speaking in the third person and think "she's gone bananas". HA.

But seriously, I have to promise myself something in the waning days of my 30s, and that is to spend my 40s being more patient, and start by being that way with myself.

Even when my brain doesn't shut off.

Amish Quilt

I'm finally done with the Amish Quilt I started some time ago.

Recently when I did a slideshow of quilts, I realized I hadn't made myself a quilt in at least 7 years! The double wedding ring quilt in the first clip was the last thing I made for Brian and me, and that was back in 1999 or 2000. I remember it because it was after we got married and had moved to Yakima that I finished that quilt.

Around Christmast time when all the snow started, we were planning on having family here for the holidays, and with the subzero temperatures, I realized that we could use another blanket anyway, and so I googled "Amish Quilt" and stumbled across this pattern, and I just fell in love with it!

It has a 3D effect that I really liked. It was neat to make something that wasn't a repeat of the same pattern over and over again, so I could do one block, then finish that and do something different. Actually it was fairly simple -- the real challenge was not having any instructions except the picture, so it was a challenge to just figure out how much of what I needed to do it.

Now, it's on to my next project -- this one's for my niece Miriam. She's got a crazy Austin Powers-like paint job in her bedroom, and we've found a pattern and color scheme that will go with the room!

It's The Weekend, So It Must Be Snowing

I woke up this morning and it's snowing. Yes, I counted it, and it's the sixth weekend in a row!

We had some decent melt-off this week since it got up into the 40s several days in a row, so I caught a glimpse of pavement on my street yesterday. But it's gone again under the fresh powder falling from the sky as I write this.

Last night Brian went to a friend's house -- the one he hasn't seen in a few months who he usually plays disc golf with -- but they can't because it's too snowy. Last night when DT called, we talked a bit about the snow, and Don, who grew up here most of his life, said he's noticing how snow weary people are here.

Yes, we've got a good case of Snow Fatigue. Every time I leave the house I have to watch every step to make sure I don't slip on ice or snow. My world view has been raised by about a foot, and it's pure white.

I told Donny it reminded me of the last winter I spent in Seattle -- 1999, when it rained for 100 days straight. Even the natives, who take rain in stride and with great pride in the Northwest, complained of being depressed. I didn't hear any actual wailing of "When will this end?" but I sensed it.

Likewise, Coloradans are pretty sick of seeing snow.

But I say "buck up". We're dwellers of the Front Range, where the going joke is "Don't like the weather? Wait 10 minutes." But I guess for now we have to wait for summer to melt this stuff away, because even more snow is due later this week.

Summer IS coming, right?

RIGHT?

Christmas Video

For those of you who want to see the Shortest Christmas Ever (But Still A Good One!) in Denver...

A Perfect Sunday

I woke up to more...yes MORE..snow falling in the Mile High City...I actually rolled my eyes when I saw it. We have at least a foot of old snow laying around, snowshovels and our backs are beaten up enough from the past 4 weeks of snow, and here's the fifth snowstorm (or is it the 6th? I've lost count).

BUT, this isn't a whiner post.

I worked on my quilt a lot. I made a short clip of the work I've done showing the patterns I drew, and the resulting block (see below). I got all 9 blocks made and drove 2 miles in the snow -- uphill bothways, HA! -- to the fabric store to buy the stuffing for my quilt and a few extra pieces of material so I can finish the top.

Since fleece material was on sale, and it looks like another 6 months of winter, I bought some of that too. It's time to hunker down and wear fleece for the duration, I say.

But the best part of the day was coming home and just sewing, watching football in between. Sorry for the Saints, but the COLTS! What a comeback! You've got me through the SuperBowl!

Then around 5:30 as it got dark the snow started again. It was warm for snow -- 21 degrees is warm to me after the sub-freezing, even sub-zero temperatures this past couple of weeks -- and Lucy and I headed to the lake for a walk. She was positively THRILLED to get out of the house. We walked around the frozen lake, which is completely frozen except for a small patch with a very sorry looking batch of ducks still swimming in it for their little lives. Note to self: Next time we take some old bread to the lake and try and feed those little guys.

Lucy bounded all over the place. I learned a new trick with her. She comes running at me when I call her, and at full speed she comes right at me, and I bent over and threw snow right in her face. If I could hear a dog giggle, I think I would have. She ran around in a big wide circle and came back for more.

It was slick as snot out, so it was a one-trip-around-the-lake walk this time. When we approached the baseball field, just barely lit, I went back to my snowglobe existence, enjoying the walk, my dog running in circles, then headed home.

With dinner and my husband Brian home, me tired from a long walk and a good day of football and my favorite hobby -- I'd say I had a Perfect Sunday.

Quilt In Motion

Football Widow Weekend

The HIL Fantasy Football League my husband Brian belongs to is having their owner's meeting this weekend, so I won't see him between about dinnertime tomorrow and Sunday after the AFC & NFC games are over.

It's the one weekend a year when I'm a football widow...Brian leaves me to watch the games with the boys, talk football league stuff (they stop just short of a "No Girlz Allowed" sign on the front door I'm sure) and I'm left to my own devices for entertainment.

But that's more than ok.

You see, I have my own addiction -- er -- hobby. I love to make quilts, and I recently found this quilt pattern online and have started working on it. I'm almost done with the 4th of 9 blocks, and I know with a good long uninterrupted day of sewing that I could very well get the top made and be on my way to finishing it.

The cool thing is, this quilt is for US.

I've been making quilts for other people for a few years now, and haven't made one for myself for some time, so this one is for our house...and I just LOVE the patterns. Part of it is that I don't have to make any one block twice. I also love the Amish style -- plain but bright colors. I love the 3D look of this quilt, and the fact that it will go in any room in my house with the taupe & black neutrals and bright colors within. Very rarely do I find a quilt idea that leaves me inspired, and for some reason this particular pattern does.

So, Brian will do his thing this weekend, and I'll do mine. In the end, he'll get a weekend with his friends, and I'll have my geek weekend sewing.

We both get to do something we love, even if we're not together this weekend...And that's fine by me.

The Silliness of Comparing Katrina to A Snowstorm

I received an e-mail from no less than three people since the Blizzards of '06/'07 started. The first time I read it, I laughed just a little, but then quickly realized it wasn't a joke at all -- but some lunatic's skewed view of comparing apples to elephants. I'm sure the people who sent it to me weren't trying to be disrespectful -- and I don't blame them -- only the jerk who wrote this.

Now, don't get panicky, I am at least going to give you a somewhat humorous response to this tripe.

Each time I read it, I responded to the senders to say I found it an insult to Hurricane Katrina victims. In no way can we compare the storms of snow that have hit Colorado to the Hurricane that devastated not just New Orleans -- which has at least garnered some media coverage (if not adequate government assistance) but MUCH more of the South -- including Alabama, Mississippi and large portions of Louisiana.

How can we compare 1600 lives lost -- 6600 missing in Katrina, to a few thousand dead COWS on the Eastern Plains of Colorado?

It started with (and I won't bother to publish it all here, but you need to get the gist of it to understand my fury):

Weather Bulletin - Denver

Up here, in the "Mile-Hi City", we just recovered from a Historic event--- may I even say a "Weather Event" of "Biblical Proportions" --- with a historic blizzard of up to 44" inches of snow and winds to 90 MPH that broke trees in half, knocked down utility poles, stranded hundreds of motorists in lethal snow banks, closed ALL roads, isolated scores of communities and cut power to 10's of thousands.

FYI:

George Bush did not come. Jules' answer: George Bush did not come because the airport was closed and even Air Force One can't land in a blizzard when they can't see the runway.

FEMA did nothing. Jules' answer: No, but judging by some of the response for Katrina, we should count our blessings. But does a State of Emergency Count? The National Guard did come.

No one howled for the government. Jules' answer: Yes they did. We howled ad naseum that they weren't doing enough to clear the streets.

No one blamed the government. Jules' answer: Yes they did. We're still howling

No one even uttered an expletive on TV. Jules' answer: I saw one person say "Damn Snow", so yes they did. They threatened that the mayor (who's the most likeable guy since Santa Claus) wouldn't get re-elected if he didn't get the streets cleared of snow RIGHT NOW.

Jesse Jackson or Al Sharpton did not visit. Jules' answer: They also did not come because the airport was closed.

Our Mayor did not blame Bush or anyone else. Jules' answer: Our Mayor is a Democrat.

Our Governor did not blame Bush or anyone else, either. Jules' answer: Our Governor is also a Democrat.

CNN, ABC, CBS, FOX or NBC did not visit - or report on this category 5 snowstorm. Jules' answer: This is ridiculous to compare a snowstorm to a hurricane.

Nobody demanded $2,000 debit cards. Jules' answer: Personally, I AM demanding a $2,000 debit card: and like many Hurricane Katrina Victims -- I am still waiting.

No one asked for a FEMA Trailer House. Jules' answer: I actually heard my boss with my own ears ask after storm #2 was bearing down on us if he could get a FEMA trailer -- so this is just not true.

No one looted. Jules' answer: People ARE stealing snow shovels because we're desperately low on supplies.

Nobody - I mean Nobody demanded the government do something. Jules' answer: This is also a lie (see above)

Nobody expected the government to do anything, either. Jules' answer: Is this guy slow? He's repeating himself now.

No Larry King, No Bill O'Rielly, No Oprah, No Chris Mathews and No Geraldo Rivera. Jules' answer: The only persons who should show up here are The Rolling Stones or maybe Jude Law: That would make me feel better. Bill O'Reilly is a lying sack anyway, so who wants him?

No Shaun Penn, No Barbara Striesand, No Hollywood types to be found. Jules' answer: This guy can't even spell Sean Penn correctly. If he wants to see celebrities this time of year, they're up in Aspen anyway.

Nope, we just melted the snow for water. Jules' answer: NOT POSSIBLE. The snow is too dry, and besides, my pipes didn't freeze, I still had water. Didn't Katrina victims have TOO MUCH WATER?!? How is this relevant?

Sent out caravans of SUV's to pluck people out of snow engulfed cars. Jules' answer: I know of no caravans. But I did get offered a ride to work by my boss, and the National Guard was pulling people off of the Boulder Turnpike in Humvees...

Families took in the stranded people - total strangers. Jules' answer: I heard this was true -- in NEW MEXICO.

We fired up wood stoves, broke out coal oil lanterns or Coleman lanterns. Jules' answer: My wood stove was not buried in 6 feet of water with snakes in it.

We put on extra layers of clothes because up here it is "Work or Die". Jules' answer: People with extra clothes on after Hurricane Katrina, DROWNED. Here in Colorado, it's called "ski gear" and even as a non-skier I have some. So what's the point between my clothes and if I "work or die"?

We did not wait for some affirmative action government to get us out of a mess created by being immobilized by a welfare program that trades votes for 'sittin at home' checks. Jules' answer: I'm still trying to figure out what an Affirmative Action Government looks like, and whether welfare has anything to do with it, and whether people sitting on their asses on welfare vote.

"In my many travels, I have noticed that once one gets north of about 48 degrees North Latitude, 90% of the world's social problems evaporate." Jules' answer: We are at the 40th parallel here in Colorado, so apparently our perfection is the statistical outlyer in this person's theory. I am also fairly sure this person has not traveled beyond the National Western Stock Show.

The world doesn't owe you a DAMN THING. Jules Answer: We don't owe these "people" anything -- RIGHT. Unless it's you or your family who's counted among the 1600 dead or 6600 missing, then I suppose you'd scream like murder.

I'd like to find the schmuck who wrote this piece of crap and go flatten his tires.

The snow is so deep he probably wouldn't even notice til he skidded out of control.

The Pot Roast Recipe

I bought a pot roast yesterday, not knowing how to cook it. It's 7 degrees outside today, so the thought of a Sunday dinner with Mom's pot roast was irresistable.


My problem was that I couldn't remember anything except water and onion soup, and thinking that I couldn't let it run out of water because Mom would always send one of us home from church early to make sure the roast still had water in it.

So, today I called Mom and said:

"Mom, I want you to think back. WAAAAAAAAyyyyyyyyyy back."

"Uh oh," Mom said.

"No, this is easy. Remember when you used to cook?"

Laughs.

"Not really. That was a long time ago."

I told her about the pot roast plan. She said she remembered the pot roast recipe as I recall it is right on, and made a few extra suggestions to braise the meat before going in, and to put some carrots and potatoes in. She was a little sketchy about how much time in the oven, but hey, at least I got the basics.

I love my Mom. She's funny, and I love it that I have her around to call for the recipe of my childhood comfort food, even if it's for a laugh and a half-baked recipe plan.

That's CRAZY TALK!

My dear husband Brian has lost his mind.

And I can't really blame him.

I'm almost in the same predicament. I went to take a picture of the snow falling with my new camera, and realized that I already had that shot. Four weeks ago. Three weeks ago. Two weeks ago.

And here we are again.

Brian LOVES to play disc golf. It's basically playing golf with frisbees, but of course it's more complicated than that. He has "drivers" and "putters" and a disc golf bag I bought him for his birthday with a towel hanging off of it.

You might think it's not a big sport, but that's where you'd be wrong.

Frisbee golf is huge. It's an environmentally friendly sport too -- instead of manicured courses, disc golf courses can be set up in city parks, and players play 18 holes just like regular golf.

There's even a Professional Disc Golfers Association (click on the title of this blog if you want to see their web site).

With courses around the world -- Brian even found one near Paris when we traveled last year -- he LOVES the game, and has drawn his friends into it.

The running joke was that Brian would wake up Saturday mornings and do his "chores" -- he'd clean the house with all sorts of energy, then the phone would ring late Saturday morning, and invariably it was Donny or Scott or Matty looking to play.

So let's get back to why my poor husband has lost his mind.

Last winter, he played almost every weekend. Last summer he played every weekend -- sometimes twice.

Then out of the blue this morning, he said "I think I'm going to sell my discs on eBay".

There was a moment when I thought "He's gone nuts." But then I realized why he said it.

Today, for the fourth or fifth weekend in a row, it's snowing, it's cold, and Brian can't go play.

The weather outside looks more suitable for polar bears than people, again.

So I guess I'm not the only one looking outside and saying "ENOUGH ALREADY!"

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Another Reason To Love Colorado

I have to say, in between snowstorms (we had one last Friday and apparently are getting a brutal hit this Thursday with subzero temperatures and more snow), I love reading my newspaper, I love reading the stuff that comes out of Colorado politician's mouths.

Bill Ritter, our new state governor, and a Democrat, recently took office and has been filling his cabinet with lots of people with oodles of experience that he doesn't really have.

So, the comments about who he's choosing?

Let's start with former Gov. Dick Lamm, who was quoted in today's Rocky Mountain News: "Appointing people is like eating mushrooms out of your backyard. You really don't know how it turns out until you've done it."

OK, that's funny. And true, I suspect, although I've never been elected governor, nor one to eat mushrooms of any kind, in the wild or in the more tame areas of the north side of my house where they spring up now and then.

Ritter did choose a Republican to head Public Safety, but Peter Weir is from Golden, so I doubt he leans too far to the right, but then you can't find a Republican from Boulder at all, so I guess he must be at least a drop in the diversity bucket of Ritter's team.

But the other funny quote was about Human Services appointee Karen Beye, who Lt. Gov. Jane Norton said "She's very good, very customer-oriented, a real pro. But don't make this too glowing, she's a Democrat, dammit."

You know how I hate it when people mince words. C'mon guys, tell us how you really feel.

Jack, My Superstar

See No Evil, Speak No Evil, Hear No Evil. Thanks for the Webcam Mom!

Mom gave me a webcam for Christmas. A fine toy this is. I was already a smartass, now I'm a smartass with a camera, so if there's anyone left on the planet with an internet connection who doesn't already know it: Here's the proof.

Here's my test of my new webcam. Aptly titled:

See No Evil, Speak No Evil, Hear No Evil.




Now, I just need to define Evil. But I'm pretty sure it doesn't involve my sticking Kleenex in my ears!

2007 Is Here!

This was the picture of the night. This is my friend Concetta, whose fabulous smile is always good for a picture. But I was especially pleased last night as I shot pictures with my new camera of our party, and later was looking through them and came across this one.

Last night, the party was at our house. Brian and I have hosted New Year's here for a few years now, and it's always a pleasure to have a bunch of our friends over, and a few new ones.

Despite my having a brutal cold, I medicated it well with a few White Russians.

The kids who came played with Brian's XBox, and one of them, who loves hockey and therefore has a fascination with Canada, found out Brian was Canadian, and got Brian to pull out his passport so he could see it.

Overall I'd say we had a great time.
In looking back over 2006, I can't gush that the year was the greatest year of my life. It was very bittersweet since it started with our surprise pregnancy with Jacob, and in the middle we suffered his birth and loss.

Thank you everyone, who've stood by us. I hope 2007 is kinder to us in some respects. While I wish things had turned out differently for us in 2006, I'm glad for what we did get from this past year. Along with a short time with our son, we also received the great gift of good friends and closeness of family.

May 2007 be good to you too.