Friday Five: The Will-Wonders-Never-Cease Edition

            

1)  Wildebeest thanked me this week for not letting him watch much television
when he was little because he believes that made him a good reader.

2)  While I drove Zebu and his friend to school Tuesday morning, Zebu laughed
at one of my jokes! In front of his friend!

3)  Wildebeest ate an entire helping of Zippy's curry the other night and said,
"This is really good."

4)  Last month Zebu complimented me on my texting speed. 

5)  Grasshoppers have some seriously trippy gription going on:   


                                                                                                     © Tracy Abell 2011 

Wishing everyone a wonder-filled weekend!

          

If You Build It, You Will Sleep

                      

Last week we went to Westcliffe where my mother has a small cabin.
A few people sleep outside on the deck but most everyone sleeps in tents.

 

Zippy and I’ve pitched our tent in the same place for years,
a slightly sloped, rocky spot beneath some pine trees.
I don’t get very good sleep while there and after a few nights of that, I’m exhausted.

So, this year we (um, I) decided we should have tent platforms.

Via Craigslist, I found enough secondhand Trex decking for two 10′ x 12′ platforms
and in early July we loaded that and a bunch of other lumber into a 16′ rental truck and took it down.
 
Here’s where we built the first platform (for Zebu and Wildebeest) last week:
 
Here are Zippy and Zebu working hard to build a level frame (Wildebeest was off chasing a gorilla) :
 
Zippy and Zebu are math-heads, and they had a grand time measuring and strategizing 
while I served as beast of burden and moved lumber and tools as needed.
 
They made great progress that first day but we had to pause while it stormed:
 
When we finished, the boys had what turned out to be The Best Morning Spot on the property . . . 
shade until ten in the a.m., baby!

 
We built Zippy’s and my platform after that (note the 9 on the headboard; Zebu and I drove into
town for drill bits and when he saw the house numbers on display, insisted we get some. He
and Wildebeest are number 4 while I opted for "number nine, number nine" in honor of The Beatles):
 
And now Zippy and I have this glorious view of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains:
 
But even better, we sleep well.
 

Wildebeest Scores!

               

Aside from babysitting neighbor kids in our tiny rural Wisconsin community,
my first paying job was at the nearby canning factory.
I was a Visual Inspector.

Sounds fancy, doesn’t it?

From 6pm – 2am,

I stood alongside a moving conveyor belt
that was covered with peas.
Wielding a long suction hose to remove undesirables:
pebbles,
clumps of weeds,
little green pea-sized berries that were "poisonous."

 
Sometimes I sucked up bits of frog.
 
I also worked the corn pack which was slightly less monotonous
because I was the break person who relieved other workers.
Sometimes I worked at the roller belts carrying the ears of corn
where I grabbed the ones with rotted ends and inserted them into a grinder 
before throwing the newly spruced-up ear back onto the belt.
And sometimes I used a big paddle to shove ears of corn onto the
sorting belts.
 
Before you get all envious, please know that corn splatter isn’t great for the complexion.
 
I just got home from dropping Wildebeest off at his new job.
His very first job.
He’s an actor at Casa Bonita.
Saturday was his first day of training 
in which he learned to fire the guns 
and sword fight.
He has lines to memorize.
He gets to chase a gorilla with a big net.
Someday he might be a cliff diver.
 
The kid’s happy.
And his skin looks great.
 
                   

Jumping into a New Year

 

HAPPY 15TH BIRTHDAY, ZEBU!



                                                                                                                    Photos by Wildebeest
 

 
Zebu, you’ve got mad hops.
Even if the rim was lowered.
 
Here’s to lots more joy and basketball . . .
 
             

Friday Five: The All-in-the-Family Edition

         

 
1)  On Tuesday morning I crowed about my runner’s high and feeling so good

2)  but by that evening all euphoria was gone due to a Wildebeest implosion,

3)  and we were forced to sort through the rubble.

 
4)  The dust has settled and tomorrow we focus on Zebu’s 15th birthday.
 
5)  Today, though, I will focus on this Western Tanager captured by Zippy:
 

                                                                                                                         © Zippy 2011

 

Wishing everyone a rubble-free weekend!
 
              

Forts R Us

I’ve been AWOL, I know, but am easing back into LJ-Land with the latest creation by Wildebeest & Friends:


I peeked inside this one when talking with Wildebeest this morning
and was surprised by the spaciousness.
When Wildebeest and Zebu leave home and it’s time to down-size, I just might live in a fort.

My Top 70 for Bob Dylan’s Birthday

Bob Dylan turned 70 years old today and in honor of his birthday, I’m sharing 70 Dylan-related memories:

1) I joined the Columbia Record Club when I was a kid and bought lots of early Dylan records for not much money (because he was a Columbia artist), eventually defaulted on my membership and then had a collection agency after me until they figured out I was a minor and they couldn’t touch me.

2) I kept a harmonica in my car to practice while stuck in L.A. rush hour traffic but never advanced beyond basic discordance.

3) When I was a kid, I took over the care of my younger brother’s gerbils and renamed them Frankie Lee and Judas Priest.

4) After having trash and beer thrown at me for singing and dancing during a Dylan concert in Orange County, CA (otherwise known as Behind the Orange Curtain), I vowed never to attend another concert in the OC, a promise I kept.

5) I once dreamed of ex-wife Sara Dylan and woke up really indignant about Bob treating her so poorly.

6) I used to work for a man who shared a rabbi with Bob Dylan, and contemplated staking out the temple for a sneak peek.

7) I had a class at CSU-Northridge with a young man who was friends with one of Dylan’s sons (Jakob?) and who used to hang out with the son and listen to Blonde on Blonde, an album my classmate described as “Okay.”

8) When I was a high school freshman, I gave a speech on Bob Dylan; the teacher was thrilled but the other kids could not have cared less.

9) The first time I ever saw Dylan in concert my seat was behind the stage but Dylan turned and played to us so it was a great experience.

10) My parents allowed me to miss a day of school to get those tickets.

11) Maybe because I’m not a fan of organized religion, I’ve never been offended by Dylan’s swings between Judaism and Christianity and back again.

12) I’ve logged a lot of miles on my treadmill running to Highway 61 Revisited (although “Ballad of a Thin Man” kinda takes the pep out of my step).

13) I listened to Street Legal the other night for old time’s sake but had to quit after a few songs because it made me miss best friend S (who loved the album) too much; I especially wished he was still alive so I could point out the album is highly overwrought.

14) At the last minute, I bought a single ticket to see Dylan at the L.A. Forum and got a pretty decent seat but after he played a couple songs, he said he wouldn’t continue until the seats in front were filled so I rushed the stage and spent the rest of the night a few feet from the stage.

15) I also went alone to see Dylan at the Filmore in Denver and made friends with some people who, for years afterward, invited me to their birthday parties.

16) I named my cat Isis.

17) I bought my copy of Desire at the JC Penney in Portage, Wisconsin, and took it back because the record skipped.

18) Literary agent Edward Necarsulmer IV is a huge Dylan fan and I used to think that meant we were destined to be agent and client, but I’ve since deduced that is not true.

19) Wildebeest loves nothing more than to disparage Bob and his rhyming ways.

20) When I was in high school, Doonesbury included a series of strips featuring Dylan and I taped those strips inside my locker door but was so eager to vacate the premises on the last day of school, I left them behind.

21) Zippy used to quietly pooh-pooh Dylan’s talent but now recognizes his channeling-from-beyond genius.

22) Let’s face it: Joan Baez has aged much more gracefully than Dylan.

23) I was sad on my birthday, November 25, 1976, because I knew Dylan was playing at The Band’s final concert at the Winterland, San Francisco, while I was in Pardeeville, Wisconsin, watching a blizzard out the window.

24) I later went to a matinee showing of Scorsese’s documentary of that concert (The Last Waltz) and smoked cigarettes in the nearly empty theater. I know!

25) Sometimes waiting for Dylan tickets was more fun than the actual concert (see #4), even when I burned my ankle on a motorcycle muffler getting a ride across the immense parking lot to the port-a-potty.

26) There are few more dull or predictable discussions than those focused on the quality of Dylan’s voice.

27) I think the Rolling Stone panel missed the boat by not putting more Planet Waves songs in its top 70 list.

28) I used to be in a critique group with Dylan’s lighting guy who went into instant panic, covering his ears and yelling, “I don’t want to know!” when I mentioned a friend with a bootleg tape.

29) I once spent about three hours trying to get through on a call-in show to ask Dylan who’s saying “Yes!” in these “Isis” lyrics:
“You gonna stay?”
“If you want me to.”
“Yes!”
(See, it’s not clear if it’s “If you want me to, yes!” or “Yes!” as in “I want you to stay.”)

30) It’s safe to say that over the years I’ve driven some people away with my Dylan fascination.

31) A former boyfriend didn’t believe I knew all the words to “Isis” but after I performed it for him, complete with gestures, he had a (short-lived) light of respect in his eyes.

32) Zebu had the chance to see Dylan at Red Rocks a few years back but didn’t have much fun because (1) there was a thick cloud of pot smoke in the crowd and (2) he couldn’t recognize any of the songs.

33) The first novel I wrote has an incredibly original storyline about a teenage girl who loves Dylan but is teased by friends and classmates for that love.

34) My critique-lighting-guy friend invited me to sit at the light board during a Dylan concert but I declined because it was soon after September 11 and I couldn’t face being in a crowded venue right then.

35) In 1982, my sister and I went to PEACE SUNDAY in the Rose Bowl to hear Dylan and Baez (among many) but the concert was sold out so we stood next to chain-link fence while guy inside licked his hand-stamp and pressed it on my hand so I could then lick and pass along stamp to my sister.

36) I’m one of two people I know who saw the looong and oh-so-confusing Renaldo and Clara (and the other person is the guy who went with me).

37) Zippy and I watched the Dylan flick, Hearts of Fire, which is one of the worst movies made. Ever.

38) However, trust me when I say Dylan’s pantry scene from the movie Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid in which “Alias” reads aloud the labels on canned vegetables is hysterical.

39) Early on in our relationship, Zippy said the soundtrack to Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid was his favorite Dylan album because it was mostly instrumentals (see #21).

40) I strongly disagree with Keith Richards’ statement about Dylan’s “Girl from the North Country” being better suited to a solo than the duet with Johnny Cash.

41) When I try to imitate Dylan I always end up sounding like Joan Baez imitating Dylan on her version of “Simple Twist of Fate” which means it’s really me doing Baez doing Dylan.

42) A long time ago I told a friend if Dylan ever did a commercial, I’d take all my Dylan albums into the street and destroy them but here I am post-Victoria’s Secret and Bob-knows-what-else, and my albums are intact.

43) I went to the record store the day Empire Burlesque was released to buy it and another customer commented on how refreshing it was to see someone so loyal to an artist, but in retrospect, I have to question that loyalty because the album has some definite clunkers.

44) I once called information to get Bob’s home phone number.

45) I never feel like I’m in the mood to listen to “The Time’s They Are A-Changin,’” but then I hear it and am blown away all over again.

46) Sometime in the last decade, Dylan was on the Grammy’s singing a song that everyone later ridiculed as being unintelligible but within a couple mumbles I identified it as “Masters of War.”

47) When I was a teen, Dylan was scheduled to be on Soundstage and I talked to my parents ahead of time about watching it when it came on late that night, but in a fit of absolute bullshit parenting, they didn’t let me.

48) My father-in-law named his dog “Dillon” after the Gunsmoke character but in my mind’s eye whenever I said his name, it was “Dylan.”

49) I was always of the opinion that music class ruined “Blowin’ in the Wind” for a lot of young people much the same way The Scarlet Letter was ruined by high school English classes until a friend told me “Blowin’ in the Wind” holds a special place in his heart due to learning all the words in Sunday School.

50) Way back when in Wisconsin, I listened to Dylan’s early song, “Highway 51” but, being the spatially-challenged person I am, didn’t make the connection with the Hwy 51 running past my hometown.

51) If not for Bob Dylan, I’m not sure I’d know Woody Guthrie’s work (or Arlo’s!), or Phil Ochs or Dave van Ronk.

52) I’m not usually a fan of “greatest hits” compilations but if not for Dylan’sGreatest Hits Vol 2, I wouldn’t know one of my all-time favorite Dylan songs “When I Paint My Masterpiece.”

53) It was hard times when I lived in a tiny North Hollywood apartment but I remember smiling in the dark as I listened to Bob’s laugh when he messed up the opening to “Bob Dylan’s 115th Dream.”

54) Wildebeest just stuck his head in the room to see what I’m working on and when I told him he said, “70? That’s a lot of memories. You really love Bob Dylan, I think Bob Dylan’s a goober.”

55) A friend and I went to the Dylan/Grateful Dead concert at Anaheim Stadium and I swear Jerry’s guitar solo on “All Along the Watchtower” was so incredible it flustered Bob into singing the same chorus twice (but I seem to be the only one who noticed).

56) I have another friend who won’t ever let me forget that on the day of a general admission Dylan concert at the Filmore in Denver, I “forced her out of the car on Colfax” because of road work and detours so she could get in line while I looked for a place to park, and then we ended up arriving at the line at the same time.

57) We were about halfway back on the floor during that show with the misfortune of standing behind a basketball team, but then “Cold Irons Bound” started and I danced and didn’t care about limited visibility.

58) When Wildebeest was a baby he’d calm when listening to Blood on the Tracks except for “Idiot Wind;” he really disliked that song.

59) Wildebeest and Zebu just told me something I can neither confirm nor deny: when they were little and would screw around at the dinner table, I’d get pissed off and send them downstairs while I cleaned up the kitchen, “Tombstone Blues” blasting (“I’m in the kitchen with the tombstone blues”).

60) All I can say in my defense is “It Takes a Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry.”

61) Actress Jenna Elfman reportedly lost her virginity while listening to “Lay Lady Lay” but I can’t listen to Dylan while having sex because, for me, there’s no tuning him out; I can’t write while he’s playing, either.

62) Hard Rain is a phenomenal live album, and don’t even try talking to me about the distortion and poor sound quality.

63) If it weren’t for the Rolling Thunder Revue, I wouldn’t know about T-Bone Burnett and Mick Ronson and Ronee Blakley and Scarlet Rivera.

64) Come to think of it, I started reading Crawdaddy magazine in hopes of finding a mention of Dylan, and was introduced to all sorts of musicians along the way.

65) From the very start my attraction to Dylan had as much to do with his use of language as the music and while I never mastered the guitar or harmonica or singing, or anything even remotely musical, I consider him a huge influence.

66) I still haven’t landed in Publisher’s Marketplace but it’s cool Bob’s gotten deals for turning songs into picture books; however, it’ll be hard to take if he sells a middle-grade before me.

67) I can’t remember ever putting on a Bob Dylan record and deciding it wasn’t what I wanted to hear; no matter the mood, it’s always a good time for a little Dylan.

68) And with his catalog, a little Dylan can easily turn into a marathon listening session.

69) So many people were outraged when he went electric and, in their minds, turned his back on “the movement,” but Dylan’s Dylan no matter whether he’s singing about a miner or a clueless reporter or the exquisite pain of a breaking heart.

70) When I listen to Joan Baez sing about Dylan in “Diamonds and Rust,” I want to weep for her lost love but then “Winds of the Old Days” plays and I’m in awe of her graciousness:
“singer or savior, it was his to choose
which of us knows what was his to lose”

Friday Five: The Random Edition

                 

1)  I have a piece up on Commentarista.com today. HEAVY METAL MOUTH chronicles my experiences as 
a brace-face adult, and I hope you stop by to laugh at my expense.

2)  Today is graduation day at Red Rocks and our friend Brian is graduating. He’s actually three weeks 

younger than Wildebeest but started school at a younger age in California. We’re going to his party later where 
I’m sure I’ll get teary and embarrass him. It’s Brian’s turn today, Wildebeest graduates next year, Brian’s sister 
the year after, and then Zebu is the last of the gang. Time is whipping on by . . .
  
3)  Earlier this week I ran the neighborhood loop for the first time in a month or so, and am here to tell you:
keep up with your yoga practice! I haven’t been doing yoga nearly enough and really felt the difference in my
lungs. Who would’ve thought?
 
4)  I  just realized I don’t like this type of unrelated list for Friday Five because when I read a jumbled 
assortment on other blogs, I get overwhelmed thinking I need to comment on each and every item.  So if you’re
equally neurotic and starting to freak out, DON’T! It’s all good!
 
5)  Well, now it’d be kind of silly to add anything else, wouldn’t it? Let’s end with an assortment of produce:
 

                                                                                          image by morguefile.com

Have a colorful and varied weekend, friends!

Thankful Thursday: The Backhanded Edition

                 

I’m thankful that Wildebeest’s borrowed iPod (his is MIA) provided us with a different
get-ready-for-school soundtrack this morning : Michael Jackson (rather than the usual death metal or rap.)

I’m thankful I was able to make an appointment for Zebu to see the pediatric orthopedist this afternoon
to examine his knee that popped during track practice yesterday.

I’m thankful I own a Neti pot and can clear my nasal passages that are congested due to a lousy head cold.

 

I’m thankful I have the time and space to express these thoughts.
Really. I am.
Thankful.
           
              

On Running and Writing

                 

Zebu and Wildebeest are distance runners on the track team.

They have a teammate who started the season training with the sprinters.
One evening Zebu told me this kid (I’ll call him Whiz), accidentally missed the turnoff
for the sprinters during that day’s practice and instead ran the distance practice (4-5 miles).
With awe in his voice, Zebu said, "He kept up the whole way."

A couple weeks ago, the coach needed to fill some slots because of injuries and
put Whiz into an 800 meter race (two laps around the track which equals one half-mile).
Whiz won his heat.

 

A few days later, Whiz was on the 4 X 800 relay (each runner does two laps and

then passes a baton to the next runner on team).
The boy passing the baton to Whiz accidentally stepped on the back of Whiz’s shoe and 
Whiz spent valuable seconds trying to get the shoe back on his foot before kicking it off
and running his two laps with one shoe on and one shoe off.
Whiz’s time in that race beat Zebu’s best time.
 
This past weekend, Whiz ran his first 1600 meter race (four laps which equals one mile).
He ran it in 5:11, beating Zebu and Wildebeest’s best times.
 
Zebu is proud of Whiz, a fellow freshman and super nice kid, 
but is also flabbergasted by his ability to run so fast without all the miles
Zebu and Wildebeest have logged in their training.
 
I can relate.
Not just in my own running, but in my writing life, too.
 
I told Zebu that there are Naturals and there are Work Horses
(and, of course, Naturals who work very, very hard to get even better). 
 
I told him about the hardworking top-runner on my high school cross country team
who was knocked from her number-one spot by a freshman girl who just showed up
and blew everyone else away.
 
Then I said, "It’s a lot like the journey to publication. There are some people who write 
the perfect book at the perfect time, and their careers take off. Then there are those
who have to work hard for a long, long time to get there. I’m one of those work horses."
 
His silence told me maybe I shouldn’t have put it in those terms. 
Zebu’s had an up-close and sometimes painful window into my quest for publication,
and my unpublished status probably makes me a not-so-good poster child for Work Horses.
 
It’s true.
I’ve worked long and I’ve worked hard, and publication still hasn’t happened for me.
But whenever I wonder whether it’s time to let go of the dream, 
I think about my kids witnessing my efforts over the years.
And while I know hard work is no guarantee of success, 
I also know I don’t want them to think of me as The Work Horse Who Never Reached Her Goal.
 
So I guess that means, at least for the time being, I’ll keep doing what it takes.
I’ll be the Work Horse with one shoe on and one shoe off,
running hard for that finish line.
 
              

Wildebeest Does Hawaii

                           

Oh no!
A Wildebeest washed up on the beach!
Is he okay?

Whew.
Crisis averted.

(Next time I want him to smile, I’ll have to try a splash of cold, salt water in the face.)
                
                 

Fort Wildebeest

Yesterday morning Zippy went to the basement to feed Lebowski the cat, and found this:


© Zippy 2011

Wildebeest and friends (all 17 years-old) came home on Friday night and built a fort to sleep in.
It all began with one sheet and a piece of yarn.

This makes me smile.

Mahalo

             

Tomorrow morning (Saturday), Zippy, Wildebeest, Zebu, and I
are flying to Oahu for spring break.

We haven’t had a family vacation in about three years
because the last one we took (car trip) was a nightmare.
Arguing.
Sullenness.
More arguing.
Refusal to participate.
Bad attitudes and all-around-unpleasantness.

Zippy and I swore we’d never vacation with them again.

Well, we’ve reached a new place (as a family) and now get along much better.

All of us.
So I suggested we try one more family vacation, this time to the destination of the kids’ choice.
They wanted Australia or London (which we couldn’t afford) and then agreed on Hawaii.
 
We’re renting an out-of-the-way place on the beach and bringing lots of sun block.
 
I’ve got high hopes for our time together, and believe we’ll create lots of good memories.
In the meanwhile, I wish everyone a splendid week filled with all-around pleasantness.
 

                                                                                            image from morguefile.com

ALOHA!

Friday Five: The March Madness Edition

      

1) Yesterday Zippy, Wildebeest, Zebu, and I watched four men’s college basketball games
from our seats in the rafters and

 
2) had great fun
 
3) despite the sound of our brackets exploding with upsets (we’re looking at you, Louisville!),
 
4) and are now looking forward to Gonzaga beating BYU on Saturday 
 
5) because in our collective opinion, BYU’s only redeeming quality is having female cheerleaders 
who sometimes do back-flips when a player makes a free-throw.

   

                                                    image from morguefile.com


Keep your eyes on those dreams and have a grand weekend!  

               

                  

Coco’s Nightmare

              

Coco: Last night Zippy had a dream Tracy let a bunch of otters into the house.
Apparently, I didn’t much like them.

                                                                                                                                                    © Wildebeest 2011

Can you blame me?


                                                     image from morguefile.com                                                                                                               
                       

Mystery Solved

                


One morning in late January,
we woke to this:


                                                                                                                             © Zippy 2011

I couldn’t believe none of us heard this going on right outside our windows.
Not me.
Not Zippy.
Not the two dogs.

And now Wildebeest informs me this was the work of the entire girls basketball team
(one of the girls "confessed" during track practice).

Who knew teen girls could be so stealthy?
                

Friday Five: The Numbers Edition

              

I’ve invited these big, friendly numbers to help me quantify this week . . .


                                                               image from morguefiles.com

1)  I’m writing my new book 500-words per day. 

2)  I’m reading an incredible book about the 60s: COUNTDOWN by Deborah Wiles.

3)  Wildebeest is shooting for a 3.7 GPA this semester, and thinks he’ll
achieve it by "not screwing around on my elective."

4)  After a three-game dry spell, Zebu scored 13 points in his basketball
game on Wednesday.

5)  Right now there’s sunshine, and we’re supposed to hit 50 degrees later today.

Wishing everyone a numerically- satisfying weekend!

                

Basketball Jones

             

Zebu is now a high school freshman 
and on the basketball team.

Last night was his first game, but I wasn’t there.
Zebu was a bit nervous and told Zippy and me
it would be better if we didn’t attend.

Wildebeest (junior) went to the game
along with three friends.

Apparently they yelled and cheered for everything
Zebu did on the court, and he played a great game.

He said he wants Wildebeest & Co at every game.


                                                                              Image from morguefiles.com

There has been a HUGE shift in their relationship,
and I think it’s because they’re in high school together.
Somehow that’s equalized their kinship,
and now they truly enjoy each other’s company.

I wanted to share this because I know some of you despair
that your younger children will ever be friends.
There’s no guarantee they will, of course, but it doesn’t hurt
for me to dangle some hope.

The hope that someday things would be better
got me through some difficult times with those boys.
                             

Friday Five: The Catching Up Edition

               

1)  Hello, friends!  Maybe you noticed I’ve been AWOL from TracyWorld.  Why?  Busy, busy, busy.

2)  Last weekend with the help of Zippy, Wildebeest, and Zebu, I placed 12 tons of landscaping
rock around the perimeter of our newly landscaped yard.  Yesterday I spent the day with a Rug Doctor,
bringing the basement carpeting back to life.  This weekend I’ll be cleaning walls and beams in preparation
for the painting crew.  I appear to be nesting.  No, I’m not pregnant.

3)  Despite the above, I’ve been working on BIRD BRAIN revisions.  This round, I’m working off  ‘s 
comments, and am thrilled with the improvements.  I’m so grateful for all the wonderful critiques I’ve received,
and am looking forward to querying soon.

4)  Tuesday night I got together with  who was in town.  We’d never met in person but bonded 
immediately and had a wonderful time in a sports bar on election night.  Really.  If you have to suffer through a
political crap storm, you want to do it with someone smart and funny.  I’ll always remember I was with Phoebe when
I learned civil liberties champion Sen. Russ Feingold lost his re-election bid (shame on my fellow cheeseheads!)

***  IMAGINE A DELICIOUS BROWNIE SUNDAE PHOTO HERE ***
(Because we were sporting I VOTED stickers, the bar gave us a free brownie sundae but I don’t know how to
send phone pic to email).

5)  Yesterday Wildebeest turned 17.  I keep thinking I’m too young to have a child that old, but I guess the
facts are against me on that one.

I’ve missed everyone and hope to catch up on LiveJournal when I get a little more breathing room.
I wish you all a glorious, early November weekend!


 

Prodding the Wildebeest

       

Wildebeest is a junior this year.
Attention to detail has never been his strong suit.

Last year at registration I paid for him to take some test,
I don’t remember which one.
It wasn’t until the end of the year I thought to ask him about it.
Whatever it was, he hadn’t taken it.

Money and opportunity down the drain.

This year’s registration included an optional fee for the PSAT.
I paid for it, sternly telling Wildebeest he had to pay attention to announcements,
and take the test this year.

I just got an email reminder that the exam is Saturday morning.
I called the counselor to make sure he was registered.

She said, "Yes."
And then she told me about meetings they’d held with the juniors
back in September, and about the study guides they’d been working on.

I sighed heavily and hung up.

I just finished texting with Wildebeest (I know, I shouldn’t do that during school).  Turns out:
A) he knew about the test
B) he hoped to skip it
C) he does have a study guide
D) he’s been using it

What started out as just another one of those forehead-to-palm moments,
turned into a not-so-bad parental episode.

Whenever we avoid total and complete disaster, I consider that progress.
                    

Establishing Routines and Letting Them Go

            

Last night I realized I felt pretty crappy.
My neck was stiff, my head hurt, and my entire body felt tight.

Wait, I thought, I recognize this feeling.
It’s how I used to go through most every day.

In fact, I felt that way for most of my adult life until I started a daily yoga routine,
and then I became relaxed and loose.
And that’s how I’ve been for the past year and a half: relaxed and loose.

Last school  year I’d get up at 6:00, put on my yoga togs, wash my face,
and then feed my kids and pack their lunches.
Zebu and Wildebeest were out of the house by 7:05,
and I’d go straight into my little "yoga studio" for my session.

I did not pass GO,
I did not loiter in the kitchen,
and I most certainly didn’t get lured to the world wide web.
I did what needed to be done.
(And then I passed GO, stuffed my face, and surfed the web).

This school year, the boys’ schedules are scrambled and by the time they’re out the door,
I’m hungry.
Really hungry. 
I don’t want to do yoga, dammit.
I want food and coffee.

And now my body is suffering from a yoga-deficit.

So I’m trying to establish a new routine,
one that allows for flexibility (pun NOT intended).
I’m telling myself it’s okay to eat in the morning and
it’s okay to do yoga at 11:00.
Really, it’s okay to do yoga at any time during the day.

And the same goes for my writing which is also suffering a disruption in routine.
It’s okay to write at any time during the day, as long as I write.
Because in the same way I now know/remember how crappy I feel when I don’t do yoga regularly,
I know how out of sorts I feel when I don’t write every day.

So.
Routines are great, until they’re not.
And then it’s time to create new ones.

Routines that can bend and flex with my daily needs.
                  

Friday Five: The School Daze Edition

         

1)  Dropped Zebu at the high school this morning for freshmen orientation.

2)  Zebu was disdainful yesterday when I asked if he knew what he was going to wear today,
     yet this morning proudly pointed out that his shoes matched his shirt. 

3)  Wildebeest got himself up and out the door for a 6 a.m. cross country practice this morning.  Wow.

4)  Zebu and Wildebeest have a gym class together this semester, and are giddy with excitement.

5)  I cannot believe summer vacation is over.

         
                                                                     © Tracy Abell 2010

Wishing everyone a glorious August weekend!
                    

Boy Stink

        

Seeing as I live in a house full of boys,
I think it’s fair I post the girl perspective:

AGNES by Tony Cochran

I don’t know about dead chickens,
but I’d definitely say my snorts of boy
either clear my head or knock me out.