8?15/2012 What IS That Brown Stuff?!

I sat on the pool deck preparing
to inflate my air mattress even fuller.
As I looked down through the clear plastic
I could see some brown liquid inside.
"What IS that brown stuff?!" I thought to myself.
Only air goes inside an air mattress.
I sniffed the valve.
EWWW!
Chewing tobacco juice!
I couldn't believe it.
I look at my husband in the pool
and said, "Ew Honey, that's gross."
"How did that get inside my air mattress?"
He had the good grace to look apologetic and said,
"It was an accident."
I love my husband, but there are a few
habits of his that really gross me out.
I've survived my marriage by always trying
to focus on my own behavior,
but sometimes it's hard.
People are going to do what they are going to do.
Besides, chewing tobacco isn't his worst bad habit.
Trust me, you don't want to know...

8/14/2012 You're NOT My Grandma!

The little baby sat happily on her beach blanket
playing with her toys.
Her limp beach ball was her run-a-way favorite
and I swear it looked like she kept trying to
blow it up.
Heloise was only six months old, with dark blue eyes
and light brown wispy hair.
She had on a blue checked sundress with
matching bucket hat that covered her little head to her chin.
There is a gap when your children are grown,
before you get grandchildren, that can make you crazy.
All of a sudden that old biological clock
starts ringing and you crave babies.
Smart design we have, reinforced by mirrors
showing every wrinkle, that create a desire
for immortality, through grandchildren.
Terry started it by mentioning that the people in
the cabin next to us had a really cute baby.
The day before I had seen three baby raccoons,
three baby sea otters and one spotted baby deer.
I was in a baby frenzy after that.
I saw the young couple walking to the resort viewing bench
and grabbed a cup of coffee and
non-chalantly followed them down there.
I admired their baby, and casually mentioned
had two children, was a school teacher,
had been a scout leader for years...
Anything to sell my trustworthiness
because I wanted to babysit!
The next day as we left for a bike ride
I stopped at their cabin to see
if they might like to take our canoe for a spin
to see the seals and their pups in the bay up close
and of course I could watch the baby right there
on the beach where they could see her at all times.
So back to the beach.
Heloise played with her beach ball, then four different rattles
and we were having a wonderful time.
She could even say, "Goo!"
After a half hour I leaned over to pass her the pacifier.
Quick as a lightning she snatched my sunglasses
off my face and stared into my eyes.
Her deafening howl said
"You're NOT my grandmother!"
Busted.
Luckily, her mom and dad were on their way into the beach
and I only had to have my ears pierced for five minutes.
That Eloise!
She is one smart baby.

7/9/2012 Digging Ditches in 1977 or Are You a Woman?

This was definitely the deepest ditch I ever dug.
I was in the bottom and the top was near waist high!
I had already done the top edge
but the darn ditch was so deep I had to do
the sides with a top-down chopping swing.
It seemed to me like a safety hazard
to have this mini Grand Canyon in front of
Nathan Hale high school.
I was vaguely missing my inside job
as the custodian for the Poncho and
Bathhouse theaters. What had started out
as a cool summer job in 1977 for the
City of Seattle Parks department had led
to this giant mud-pit of a predicament.
Mayor Wes Ulhman had gotten a memo from
the feds that he needed some Affirmative Action
in the city departments that were mostly male.
Those jobs at the time paid double what
the city secretarial jobs paid and
I sure liked the sound of that.
My park department supervisor told
me about the new program and I went
downtown to the City of Seattle Engineering
department, near I-90, and took the
test for a Street Maintenance Worker job.
Fancy name for ditch digger but it covered
the other fun jobs like filling in potholes
and cutting brush etc. etc.
It was September and pouring cold rain
as I went inside and sat down to fill out
forms. I looked at the other applicants
and wondered what else we would do besides
the written application. We were all around
twenty years old and the other six girls
had on dresses and high heels.
I felt low-class and stupid in my
blue jeans an boots and flannel shirt.
Until the test started. No one had told
us about that before we got there.
They had set up a mini obstacle course
outside in the supply area and we had three tasks.
It was raining cats and dogs as I shoveled a
fifty pound pile of sand into a wheelbarrow.
You might not know it, but when sand gets wet,
it gets much, much heavier.
Next, I had to steer the wheelbarrow
around orange cones set up to simulate God knows what.
Finally, it was time to do some timed brick laying.
My fingers were numb with cold as I
laid the bricks in climbing rows
from a pile on the ground.
When I finished, my fingers we smashed
and bloody but my mini-wall looked really good.
With my sodden jeans clinging to my legs
I walked towards the door as the next
applicant came out.
She was wearing a silk dress, spiked heels
and a cashmere sweater and I felt
sad for her.
So back to where I was standing in the bottom
of the mini Grand Canyon trying to finish
this huge ditch with the rest of the bull gang.
1977 was the first year women in Seattle
got to dig ditches professionally and
we were a bit of an oddity even to our coworkers.
Despite the cold I was hot and sweaty after
digging two hours and was down to my
white tee-shirt like the other four diggers.
A big maroon car slowed down and a
middle-aged white man noticed me out his window
and drove a few yards and stopped.
I looked up and noticed him slowly
backing up to where I was digging
and he came to a complete stop and gawked at me
and yelled, "Are you a woman?!"
I stood tall and pushed my big round white hard hat
back from my face and thrust out my chest a little
and gave him a big smile,
"Why yes, I am a woman!" I shouted back.
Good thing it wasn't raining that day.

6/23/2012 I Think Grandma Dropped That On the Floor

When Teddy hit six feet tall last year,
it dawned on me that he was fairly grown up.
So I did what most mothers do when they
are looking up at the baby in the family.
I quit cooking.
I'll haul out a pot or pan
for holidays but that's about it.
My family is still hostile about this
latest development,
but, oh well.
Everyone loves home cooking,
myself included.
I used to think it was odd that Brenda
would gush over my cooking.
I would think,
"Don't all women cook all the time?"
I'm not saying I hate to cook,
I like it.
It's the shopping, prepping
and clean up I hate,
and since no one was fighting to
set or clear the table,
I am over it.
So when I reheated the yummy pot roast
my mother-in-law Suzanne left behind
as she and Troy and Cassie went to
frolic in New York,
I was surprised that Teddy
wasn't digging in.
"Why aren't you eating?" I asked.
He stared at the platter and said,
"I think Grandma dropped it on the floor."
I looked at him and said,
"Why on earth would you say that?!"
He told me that he had found a leaf in
his dinner the night before.
I looked down at my plate and plucked up
a Bay leaf.
"You mean like this?"

6/19/2012 My Cat Hat

"Why is the top of my head so warm?"
I thought as the wisps of dreams
evaporated slowly from my brain.
I reached my right hand to my ear
and felt kitten paws.
I reached my left hand up to my ear
and felt a second pair of paws.
Oh, right. The kitten.
I was fully awake by now so I reached
up to the top of my head
and sure enough, there was a soft, fat tummy
draped over the top of my head like a knit hat.
Cloudy. Teddy had named her that because she
is gray with cloudy patches here and there.
She has knee high boots on the back
and anklets on the front.
Already a coffee cup sized
fashion trend setter.
It is not unusual at all for Troy's friends
to dash up to the house every few months
with an armload of sweatshirts he has left
in their cars for drop off.
I was just sitting on my front porch
minding my own business when a car
parked next to the bike trail
and one of his friends popped up
with an armload of clothes.
No surprise there until I stood up
and noticed the clothing was moving.
A pile of sweatshirts was thrust into my
arms with a tiny kitten on top.
"Here's Troy's clothes and kitten."
His friend said.
Well,
I certainly wasn't prepared for that!
I carried her in and handed her to Teddy
who cuddled her while I went downstairs
to reactivate the litter box
in the back of the utility room.
Teddy carried the kitten downstairs
and handed her to his dad.
Terry cuddled her up to his beard and started
talking to her in his high-pitched baby-talk voice.
I said, "Teddy wants to call her Cloudy, but I want to
call her Misty because it's more girley."
Terry lifted her up and said,
"I like Cloudy too."
So, hello Cloudy.
Thanks for waking me up all night.
At least I woke up with a warm head.

Beware of Boys With Lazy-Boys

I was driving down 73rd towards
the highway from work last spring
and glanced over at St. Vinny's.
It looked like two boys carrying a huge chair
down the sidewalk and I smiled to myself thinking
"That's something Troy would do."
Then I looked again and realized
it was Troy!
He and Devin Gniot had found an enormous Lazy-Boy
that someone had ditched in front of the store.
He spotted me in the mini-van and started yelling,
"Mom! Wait! Bring the van! MOOOM!"
I panicked and the light turned green
and they started chasing me
with the chair.
I stepped on the gas and flew home.
Close one.
They showed up a half hour later chairless
and furious at me for not stopping
to give the chair a ride home.

6/6/2012 Boys With Knives in 2003

Beads of sweat popped out on my brow
as my ten Bear Cubs laid their
brand new pocketknives on the tables
in front of them.
The moment every den mother dreads
had finally arrived:
The third grade carving unit.
I was feeling slightly dizzy and faint
at the bloodthirsty expressions on their little faces
and wondering what had happened to my innocent little tiger cubs.
There was not a trace of that toothless,
round-faced, babyish look about
these potential killers.
And that was what scouting was all about wasn't it?
Trying to civilize these little demons
into law-abiding productive citizens, right?
The boys shifted from foot to foot impatiently,
surreptitiously grinning at each other
like they we ready for starring roles in
Lord of the Flies.
Geez, I was so worried, that I could feel my
blood pressure rising by the second.
And why on earth did Carlos have buck knife?!
I watched the boys finish the cub scout promise and
I introduced the unit.
I stared with gratitude into the eyes of the moms and dads
that stood stoically next to each boy.
With my pockets full of bandages,
I passed out the bars of Ivory soap that
I had traced bears on
and mumbled a prayer for no injuries.
And there were NO INJURIES!
Everyone was delighted with their tiny bears
and it was fun to see how different they all looked.
I could predict which bears would be carved in 3D
and I knew Troy's would not be one of them,
but I smiled knowing that there would be some clean boys
at Kenmore Elementary the next day.