• Walked downtown to see Dr. Ralph Stanley at The Ark on Friday night. I didn’t realize I liked bluegrass music but it was great and I only started nodding off about ten minutes before the end, even though I had to sit in a seat for two hours with no computer or beadwork or anything. Dr. Stanley did the music for the movie Oh Brother, Where Art Thou, which I enjoyed watching (until I fell asleep) once this winter at Houghton Lake.
• I admit that I have thought more than once in the last year, “oh brother where art thou.”
• I suppose since I am a musician, I should do a music post one of these days. But not today.
• Migrated some entries to my “new” blahg.
• VACUUMED the front and back living rooms, even moved some of the furniture and vacuumed BEHIND it. I HATE to vacuum, especially when I have to move a bunch of cosmic debris to find the floor.
• Cleaned the kitchen floor for what little that is worth.
• Started sorting out my fiber arts stuff and making a traveling stash. My fiber arts stuff is still a trenormous rat’s nest of flotsam and jetsam. And, yes, cosmic debris.
• Lemme see. Did I go to the Westgate Kroger uscan or not? I went today but I can’t remember if I went yesterday. grok grok grok. You old bag.
• Had a hilarious telephonic conversation with Lizard Breath about dynamite and guns and anthropology and sightings and octowomen and I forget what else. Life, death, the universe, and everything, I guess. I needed that, kiddo.
• Walked downtown with Jane (not cousin) and Ken and Vicki and Paul and ate on Palio’s roof. Just when we got done eating, it started to *pour*! So we retreated down to the bar for a nightcap.
• I needed female conversation this weekend and I did get some. I don’t always get enough.
• There are advantages to having friends of both genders but lately I tend to prefer female companionship. Probably because I seem to need to talk more than usual. Coffee anyone?
• Planned an all-out assault on the so-called lawn, a mass of moss, dandelions and other weeds. Actually everything but grass. It’s so bad that Chemlawn came to the door one day and asked if I needed help with my lawn “issues.” Yeah, probably, but not from Chemlawn.
• Weeded the “garden” in front of the house with a few close encounters of the poison ivy kind. At least I hope they were close encounters. No rash yet.
• We saddled up the jeep and trailer and braved the roads with dysfunctional tail-lights to obtain some more mulch. I love garden stores. Too bad I kill plants.

I am still processing the double billing of the play Medea, by Euripides, that I saw today in Kalamamalakazookman. Mouse played Kreon, king of Corinth, and one of Medea’s now-dead sons in the first interpretation of the play. Lizard was, as I heard one person say, “the best stage manager.” And I have to agree, but I am obviously biased, being her female parental unit. I didn’t have roses and pussy-willows for my actress but I did have a jar of The Commander’s strawberry freezer jam. That’s prob’ly better anyway. I can identify with Medea, and even Andrea Yates. I would *never* kill my children (or anyone!) but life is hard and I can be moody at times. Don’t like myself much at those times but…

Last night, we watched the Kain-tucky Derby, proving once again that I am an occasional sports fan in spite of myself. I chose Sinister Minister and he was ahead for a while but ended up as an also-ran. I choose horses solely on the basis their names. I don’t pay attention to the odds and that is okay since I do not bet on horses or anything much else. It is surprising to me how un-inventive the horse’s names often are. Heck, we have bags and bags of stuffed aminals in the basement with more creative names than what those horses have. Bouncy Bow Pink Bow Purple Bow Blanket Mousie Mushroom Ears? Octopolis? Yeah. Anyway, click here for the GG’s Mint Julep Recipe. It’s a little sweet for my taste but I can handle one once a year. As long as I don’t have to wear one of those awful hats that the Kain-tucky Derby gals always seem to have. I wonder if those gals ever get moody….

And urban hiking rocks if there is nothing else around.

“What kind of aminal is that?” I asked the 2-year-old in the woods. She was intently watching a squirrel as her young parents looked on. I guess I look like one of those scary people who shouldn’t talk to little kids, even when they’re with their parents, because her dad replied, “It’s a squirrel.” grok grok. Scary person? grok grok. She’s the Ugly Old Witch of Ritsema Woods. grok grok. Don’t let ‘er try to fool you. grok grok. She *roasts* children! grok grok FROGGY!!! I declare! I don’t let my tadpoles get anywhere near her! grok grok Froggy, you do NOT have any tadpoles! …… *Do* you??????

Anyway, I know what a squirrel is and I hate when people answer questions for other people, even though I have been known to do it myself. I know there are those who think I am not particularly crazy about little kids but I do sometimes enjoy them. Especially when they seem excited about something and are NOT throwing a full-tilt boogie tantrum in the aisle of the Pioneer High Auditorium or yelling things like, “you’re strangling me!” loudly enough for everybody in the Westgate Kroger to hear.

But that’s okay. It wasn’t really a big deal whether I talked to the kid or not. I was just wandering around in the woods, mindlessly for the most part. But it got me remembering that in our little batch of G4 Fin cousins, quite a wide variety of pronunciations for the word squirrel emerged as the girls each reached the 2-year-old stage. Lizard Breath came pretty close to mimicking adult speech with “shirrel”. Valdemort’s “sirker” was probably about the most creative and it is my all time favorite word for squirrel. Mouse, of course, enunciated “squirrel” with perfect precision. And Pengo would just let out a bloodcurdling scream upon encountering a squirrel. I can’t remember what the reason for that was but it was definitely not fear! I don’t know what that kid in the woods called the aminal she was watching but if y’all ever hear me say “there’s a sirker”, you’ll know what I’m talking about.

<moominbrag>Lizard Breath: “Moom, thank you for paying for me to go to this college. There are so many kids whose parents can’t or won’t help them.” That was the general gist. I don’t remember the exact words.

I do not make a habit of bragging about my daughters. My parents didn’t brag about me, even on the rare occasions that I managed to put my head on straight and do something worth bragging about. They believed it was in bad taste and I agree. But as bad a year as it has been for the Fin family, some people have been pretty successful. I was reminded of that today when we made a quick little vee-hickle swapping trip to kzoo and had lunch with our kids.

So I am going to brag about them a bit. Not that they have made any major accomplishments in recent days. I’m talking about how they conduct their lives in general. There are so many kids who go off to college and wash out in one way or another. Party until they flunk all their classes and drop out. Or whatever. Not my kids. They are responsible people who study hard to achieve academic success. They participate in life, trying new things and taking leadership roles where they have expertise. They are independent thinkers who form their own opinions, largely uncolored by anything we may have tried to beat into their brains. They maintain a positive attitude even on the days when life decides to throw one of those inevitable pieces of crap at them. And they care about their family and friends more than they care about fame and fortune.

Yes, little lizard, it is an expensive college. Even though we aren’t paying anywhere near the full tuition price, we are far from wealthy and it is hard to write those checks. Somehow we are managing and I am glad we can. My heart goes out to those parents who are struggling a bit more than we are and I say BAH HUMBUG to those who can pay but won’t. It is a good college and you girls have proven that you are worth every last bloomin’ penny. You go, girls. I love you.</moominbrag>

Confusion? Say what? For about five minutes around noon today, I was actually popular for once in my life 😉 First Lizard Breath called me. As I was talking to her, there were some little beepity noises in the connection and I thought it was because my troll phone often does strange things up here in The Great White North. But it turned out that Mouse was trying to call, so I called her back and while I was talking to her, The Commander’s land line rang and *that* was the GG. For me. All the while, Radical Betty was banging on the door trying to get in. Besides that, I did manage to successfully put out the garbage last night with minimal supervision and no blue language. But blue language was definitely in order during a Waste Management/National City confuddlement, proving for the umpteen millionth time that garbage processing is never boring. And we won’t talk about why my debit card was declined at The Mole Hole but it had nothing to do with Waste Management. That is about all, I guess. It could be worse. The Commander has just read me an obituary about a 44-year-old woman who died in Hessel. Her husband died in 1994. They had some children and as sad as it is, my first thought is that at least those kids will not have to deal with wheeling their old decrepit parents around Tendercare. But, really, Tendercare is a pretty good place and there were definitely a few moments today when I was beginning to wonder if maybe they had a couple more beds over there, either for The Commander or me! Grok Grok. No, you can’t go to Tendercare! grok grok. You need to help me grok grok catch flies and spiders grok grok and keep my flying machine going grokGROK!!! Kee-reist!