A Perfect Winter's Day

I included the link to this blog in several of the Christmas cards destined for faraway friends. And then I looked at my recent entries. Do I really want these folks, most if not all of them more evolved and enlightened than me, to read my recent rantings?

So I thought I'd slip this really positive one in here. (Yeah, I was going to do it anyway....)

This past Sunday was as near to perfect as life gets. There was sufficient snow on the ground and the weather was cold and the sky was blue. I wouldn't have minded grey or snow or even freezing rain--I love winter, only tiring of it if it insists on staying over until, oh, mid-March or so. It's high summer that I could live without. Anyhow, it was a great day outside.

I had cleaned the house sufficiently on Saturday and, even though there were dishes in the sink, I let them go and felt fine about it. This is a big step for me! I have trouble concentrating on creative tasks when the house is in disarray. When it is in order, my mind feels more together and able to focus. I'm trying to get over it! I turned on the XM radio and listened to their very passable classic rock station. They play a lot of what you'd expect, but a lot of great stuff that you probably haven't heard for awhile. At least I hadn't. It was fun to listen to stuff I knew the words to.

So I was singing along to "Blue Skies" and "Can't You Hear Me Knockin'" and other favorites, explaining to a surprisingly interested Stevie--who was hanging out and reading--what makes this song or that band special. For example, on Blue Skies (my favorite Allman Bros. song and one of my ALL TIME faves), I pointed out the simplicity of the nature-based lyrics--how they were quite elvish. (I'm trying to make it relatable, people.) And I pointed out how wonderful it would be to have someone say to you "You're my blue sky, you're my sunny day" and he got it! I said the guitars reminded me of birds soaring on the breezes high above the Colorado River in Utah, and when they all come together I envision multiple birds engaged in this dance and it just makes me happy--even writing about it makes me happy! And he is starting to see how music can tell a story and paint pictures as well as stories and pictures.

Now, we named him after musicians, as most of you know (Stevie Ray Vaughan and John Coltrane), but he's never been interested in music . . . until recently. And we haven't pushed it. We named our kids after a few of our favorite famous people as a sort of reminder to find what it is you love to do and then do it--and do it well. If our sons turn into musicians and writers, we're not going to complain! But what we hope to impart is that passion for whatever you do is an important component of happiness, and if they're happy, well, perfect.

Stevie loves to dance to robotic dance music, but now he's starting to dig rock 'n' roll, and we like it. As we listened, he gravitated toward songs like "On a Carousel"--"round and round and round and round and round....with youuuuuu" and Donovan's "First there is a mountain, then there is no mountain, then there is" or whatever it's called because of lyrics like "the caterpillar sheds its skin to find the butterfly within". Kevin and I are going to make him a (non-Kid Rock) "kid rock" CD filled with songs of a similar vein. He did like CSN's "Suite: Judy Blue Eyes" and we explained to him how their voices were used together as instruments to make chords. As long as there is something to listen for, he takes more of an interest. We ended up dancing to the end of the song, singing "do do do do do, DO do dodo do do"... and I thought about what a perfect parent/kid moment this is--exactly the sort of stuff I hoped would happen when I thought about having kids. Kevin felt it, too.

What else was going on? I was making quilts and baking bread, that's what. A whole day devoted to listening to music, dancing and singing with my sons, learning to bake bread (I made a recipe you gave me, Mr. Golly, and added lots of garlic and basil and oregano and dipped the bites in olive oil--delicious!), and working on a colorful new quilt loosely based on my love of kimonos and their wonderful color combinations. By the way, quilting is big in Japan and the Japanese quilts that show up in American quilting magazines are amazing. I can often correctly guess which ones are Japanese; often, they take traditional American quilting patterns and twist them into masterpieces of graphic art and color. And they're not what you might think--cherry blossoms and big waves and such--though some of them are. The best Japanese quilters (and we only see the best, of course) take American tradition and make it thoroughly modern. The Japanese always seem so ahead of the creative curve to me. I really want to go to Japan someday.

After Marky's nap, we bundled him up and took the boys outside for sledding. I pulled both boys on a sled through the pasture. Stevie and I threw snowballs onto the slushy pond, aiming for the one little hole of water towards the middle (I hit it square on--once). We paused to say hello to the sheep and the curious little ones sniffed at Marky. We don't have a name for our little ram--I suggested "Cotton", and Kevin likes "Roscoe". Hmmm. And if we keep the little ewe, what will her name be? Suggestions?

Stevie trudged to the top of the small but steep lump of earth over the root cellar, threw himself down on his belly, and off he went. So, of course, Mark did the same thing. So fearless! Stevie ended up staying outside for a few hours, sledding down the driveway, through a few treacherous turns, and out behind the barn. Mark and I went inside and soon I got a call from the photo place--on a Sunday--telling me that ALL of my hundreds of prints--that I had just ordered on Friday--were ready and I could come get them now! Rejoice! That's local service.

We capped off the day by allowing the boys to open their Christmas presents. I know it's early, but I couldn't care less. This Saturday they'll have a big Christmas with the MO grandparents, and next Monday they'll have two more with the OH clan. We had had such a mellow day and there was snow on the ground...why wait? I got them books and Cricket magazines and little frog mugs and cars for Marky (he ignored the books, but he loves to be read to so he'll get to them eventually). The boys have a little Charlie Brown tree that we bought trimmings for and put up in their room a couple of weeks ago. It made for an appropriately festive atmosphere.

Stevie was thrilled to get his hardback Harry Potter books--the entire set (thanks, numerous sellers on Amazon!). I was pleasantly surprised. That kid opened those books with GLEE and immediately set to reading. Even if he turns into an evil dictator someday, I will carry that little glimmer of parental success with me forever.

It's time to say good night, dear reader.

I can't think of a title.

This is just a quickquick post to catch you up on some of the week's exciting events.

Last last Friday, just after I wrote my last post, Kevin and I received a letter from an Ohio lawyer asking us to place $3,500 into an envelope and send it to him (as if that was a possibility!). Why? The assholes who bought our house claimed that, because we hadn't fixed the sump pump, the basement had flooded and cost them $2,500 in damages, plus $250 for a dehumidifier, and $650 for lost rent. Pay up! it said.

Here's the problem: We DID fix the sump pump on September 9. That was the last day for any serious rain in central Ohio before they closed on the house on September 21. Kevin was in the house until the morning of September 10. The sump pump worked when he tested it, and there was no flooding from the rains on the 9th. In fact, there was never any flooding in that basement, which is why we had no idea that the sump pump didn't work in the first place, and why we used the basement as a living room, and why we even kept stuff on the floor in the utility room, where the only trouble we ever had was some basic dampness in the worst of rainy times.

Anyway, I spent most of all that weekend stressing about it. Once I got over taking it personally ("God! What TF do we have to do?! I labeled the paint cans for the various rooms! I laundered the lace curtains that were there when we moved in so they could use them! Bitches!!"), then I was just irked. The women who bought our house are lesbians. I am prejudiced in favor of gays and lesbians and, frankly, expected more from them. Perhaps I should let them off of their pedestal. Anyhoo, the real owner of the house drives a big white Amurrican truck with greatly oversized tires and a huge windshield sticker that says "Country Girl".

I kept thinking about that stupid sticker, and thinking about how badly she got it wrong. Country people don't sniff a little basement mold and run to a lawyer with a list of bogus charges and . . . charges.

It's in our lawyer's hands now, but we are pretty much at peace. Ohio is a "buyer beware" state. They made a list of fixes to be made after their inspector looked at the place. We signed the contract that said we'll fix them, and Kevin did just that. There was nothing in the basement between Sept 10 and Sept 21. Apparently, they didn't have the sense to actually walk through the house before the closing. Wouldn't YOU check to make sure everything had been fixed? Wouldn't YOU check on the house you're about to buy that hadn't been occupied in nearly 5 months? If they had, we would have had a chance to address any damage--dubious though it may be--that had been done. They didn't, there was no fraud, so they should be screwed.

I was going to send those jerks a Christmas card! Now I'm just going to call our former neighbors--who DID get Christmas cards--and warn those real, helpful country people about their crazy ass litigious new neighbors.

What else? I was really busy at the tourism office, getting ready and then having the 4-hour budget meeting. My mom came to visit over the weekend, leaving Tuesday from St. Louis instead of KC because of "Ice Storm '07", so dubbed by our over-eager local meterologists. (It was a nasty storm, though, but we missed the worst of it.) As usual, it was a great visit, and she got a lot of good time with the kiddos.

I made some girly little aprons to sell in the local vintage gift shop. The owner and I share a similar aesthetic. I have a lot of whimsical, bright, or otherwise inappropriate-for-our-home-decor-or-for-boys fabric, and now I have an outlet for the stuff I've always wanted to make with it. She loved my bright quilts, and she loved the little green and pink aprons with the animal print straps.

Money update: We have $466 and change in BOTH bank accounts, and about 4 times that amount in unpaid bills. We'll be OK, we decided, but this is the lean time fo sho. Although I like winter and even ice storms, I'm looking forward to spring when the granite starts blooming again.

Til next time, dear reader.
A very busy Lulu