moving!

Due to technical difficulties, I have decided to move to Wordpress.

Please come see the mayhem continue there, and be patient with the appearance and set up while I figure out the new place.

http://musingsinmayhem.wordpress.com

Thanks for your continued readership, and I still love to see your comments!

some days

....are just like that.

I am thinking of people who need to be thought of.

I am appreciating the beauty in tiny moments, but I can't upload the pictures from this morning's drive to preschool. In fact, I lost my header photo and can't seem to retrieve it.

I wanted to do more edits, had an awesome session of it yesterday and finally completed for the thousandth time the emotionally relevant chapter that is twice as long as the rest of the chapters, but I finally accepted that it was okay, because a middle reader can handle one 10 page chapter in a book of 35 chapters that are 3-5 pages each. But see people statement re: doing more edits today, but maybe I still can. And there is laundry, of course.

I wanted to go to a retreat this weekend, but it isn't in the cards. I am sending Mr. Cynic, and he is cool with that.

It's a gorgeous day, the library book I was waiting for was finally in yesterday, and I checked it out. I feel like going outside to watch the blue jays and cardinals flit between the changing trees, listen to the wind rustle them, too, and maybe, just maybe read for half an hour uninterrupted, outside, where there is beauty to be found everywhere, if you just look.

That last option is sounding the most appealing at the moment....

And then I will go pick up Toots, and the mayhem will resume. Captain Comic is having a rough first quarter of the school year again, and Mr. Cynic still needs to pack for the weekend and I am not sure when his ride is coming for him.

But yes, tra la la - opting for some time in the warm autumn breeze and light and colors.

sssssshhhhh...be vewy vewy quiet

I'm hunting words.

I've been pretty quiet over here in the past few weeks under the guise of focusing on the final few laps of this draft of my manuscript. Really, a lot of mayhem has been going on in my home and outside of it that has prevented as much concentration as I would like, but it is nearing the finish line.

Promise. So if I stay quiet here and around the blogosphere in general, that's my excuse.

I'm sticking to it.

Thanks for your patience, adorable pics and quotables from my family, etc to resume in the near future.

spiders and bugs and shrooms, oh my

I'm not certain I'll ever get used to south coastal Virginia seasons. We have long stretches of no rain, but threatening rain, but nope, still no rain, and just when we give up and water the garden after all, rain. For days and days and then muggy muggy muggy still in the 80s, and it's fall.

I'm from New England: I just want a dreary rainy day, a bright day, a chill breeze, a sweater and trees full of yellow, orange, red and purple right about.....now.

So, in the past week or so, there has been a lot of drizzle then sun then drizzle drizzle when there was supposed to be major storm. The local news is giddy about all the mushrooms and no, people, please do not eat those mushrooms in your yard, even if they do look like gourmet chanterelles or oyster shrooms. 

It's also a big spider season. Grandma says there are tons of tiny black spiders in her room. I am finding big orb weavers and other strange large spiders and - things on the deck, on the front of the house and in my gardens. A silverfish strode cockily across my desk this morning, too.

One day, a couple of weeks ago, we had a big yellow and black garden spider building a web on our deck. Toots misses her. I do, too. Then, a couple of days ago, I stumbled across a giant orb weaver a pace away from the other's web, building a gorgeous enormous structure. After I yelled, "Holy Crap!" to my friend over the phone, I checked it out pretty well, then later, it disappeared before I could get a picture. 

We still have at least remnants of both webs on our deck.  I love spiders and their handiwork, so I haven't removed them. They are big. Toots joined me on the deck briefly as she ran around the yard with her preschool class frog, Freddie, who is visiting this week. She looked up at the webs, and said very sadly, 

"Oohhh, where did our spiders go?"

She was quite forlorn. 

So was I.

But I wasn't when I saw a giant Giger art looking bug on my garage the other day. After some unsuccessful googling, a friend sent me a link to Wheel Bugs. Bingo. 

And today, I went out to do some gardening maintenance to discover where that giant orb weaver took up residence: right between my bean poles that I wanted to remove. She was very active and pretty ticked off that I watching her work. She ran at me, and Mom didn't raise a fool, I ran, too - away. 

So we've entered the season of creepy crawlies and mysterious mushrooms, and I may just grow to like it down here pretty soon because of this...but the leaves will never be like in Massachusetts. 

ode to the red sox

Oh, my Sox, I’m loathe to say,

Have broken my heart another day.

2011 season’s sudden and bitter fall,

In all estimation, is the worst of baseball.

The Spring, per usual, was lacking grace,

But fortitude steeled upon every fan’s face.

Papi’s homers sang past the Green Monster

And Gonzalez surprised with his hutzpah.

Pedroia and Ellsbury, ah my boys, are

The hardest working players in pro ball.

The beauty plays it as an art.

The littlest player pumps the biggest heart.

I love the rest of the guys, too,

But here’s the thing, you know it’s true:

As much as our team plays as a team like no other

These two play as determined brothers.

For most of the season we were number one

Then September stole all the fun,

With so many of our players on the DL

What could we do? What the hell?

Three weeks of watching torture,

The Yankees circled like vultures

And right at season’s end,

We began to rise, a bit slowly, but rise again.

Terry Francona chewed his gum,

He chewed and chewed until we won.

Extra innings lay in Papalbon’s hand.

Then we tied and lost again.

And then that Tampa Bay,

Who are these guys anyway?

I couldn’t watch, my husband yelled

How on earth? Again, I ask: What. The. Hell?

We rollercoastered our way through the final few.

The Yankees were rough, Tampa Bay, too

We took both series’ last games, and didn’t whine.

Then we lost to the Orioles in the bottom of the ninth.

A short season this year, tis true,

Maybe I’ll cower with the flu.

While other teams’ fans raise up cheers

I’ll stay away from October play, cause:

THERE’S ALWAYS NEXT YEAR.

pardon me

......while I realign, please.

Thank you. 

oops, i did it again

Remember das boot?

And the lesson I wanted to pass on to you?

Yea, I haven't quite learned it yet.

Yesterday, I sang the Brahms piece in both Sunday services for a remembrance of 9-11 on its tenth anniversary. Our little choir had worked very hard on it, and for some reason, the music just looked foreign during first service, even though we had just had a really good last rehearsal of it prior to that service. I wasn't the only one who had that experience. Our RE director (an alto) remarked between services that she had the same experience. In that conversation, she mentioned that it seemed the person who was supposed to lead the youth group during second service was not there yet. I replied, I'd be happy to go over there after we sang in the early part of the second service. The middle school leader was happy to get them started in the discussion, but had her own class to cover.

Second service's rendition of the Brahms went much much better. It was beautiful.

Then I trotted over to the other building, stopping at my van to switch from the cute new heels (first pair I've worn in ages because the ankle finally felt like I could for a few hours) into my everyday flipflops.

Funny enough, I did great in the heels. I owned those sassy little pointy burgundy fake alligators.

Well, I got all the way to the other building, across a lovely grassy field peppered with spiky horse chestnuts to discover that the scheduled youth leader was there after all. I made a cheerful speedy exit to head back and join Honey for one of his rare appearances, having brought the kids for second service while I was on choir duty since earlier in the morning.

Just as I stepped onto the grass from that little parking lot, my ankle collapsed under me. I dropped and rolled, purse flying, travel mug of tea arching in a totally different direction. I remember a thought process along the line of I better just go with this, because if I try to fight it, I'll re-injure the inside tendon.

I found myself lying in the grass, assessing damages and and realizing first, I was covered in yard scrap, there goes the outfit (I'm not much of a fashionista, but dang it, I'd put in some effort that morning), and then the pain kicked in. I had saved the tendon, but the entire rest of my foot was taking my breath away, briefly. Then I looked around for someone to laugh this off with, and discovered, not a single person had seen my stupendous pratfall. It was youtube worthy - an AFV winner.Then I wondered if I can or should get up and walk. Yes, I actually thought, I've fallen and I can't get up! I did get up, but maybe I shouldn't have.

The choir director and a smattering of choir members were chatting in the lobby as I hobbled back in the door. I confirmed, no one saw a thing. I went in to service, and joined Honey in the back row. Next thing I knew, choir director was leaning into the sanctuary to hand me an ice pack. He's also a kids' soccer coach, he knows about first aid.

Well, after service, we hung around for a bit, I chatted with another mom at the playground, who is also my belly dance teacher, and then we got into the two separate vehicles to head home. I did think briefly about having Mr. Cynic drive the van home, but he's not comfortable on the main roads yet. So I drove wincing all the way home, stopping and hopping for gas. Only Captain Comic joined me for the ride in Bertha.

I put my foot up when we got home and took some naproxen with the sandwich that Mr. Cynic made for me. A couple of hours later, bruising and inability to walk finally made me admit the need to go to Urgent Care, while Honey called me a wuss and Captain Comic slapped him upside the head for the name-calling. Note to self: quit joking like that with the literal kid.

After a few hours there with Honey, and two rounds of xrays, I walked out with a latex free wrap, latex free crutches, and having given my info and Mr. Cynic's to the xray tech because her son is a 16 year old drummer looking for a band, and mine is a bassist and songwriter whose band never gets together to rehearse. But they go to rival high schools, so we'll see what comes of that. I also walked out with orders to get back in das boot and see my podiatrist (the one who gave me the steroid shot back in June). Oh, and  diagnosis of spraining all the ligaments across my metatarsals and a possible break in the second metatarsal.

I twisted that ankle like a pro. I do it often enough. I broke the 5th metatarsal doing so in three inch Mia clogs back in 1980 in my high school's linoleum hall.

I think I just have to admit, that with all of the mayhem that is built into my life with three spread out kids, one with Asperger's, and my attempts to write, take care of myself, help others out, like being in rotation as a youth leader, being in choir, etc, that adding something on the fly, literally takes me down for the count, and beyond.

My appointment with the podiatrist is in a couple of hours. Thanks goodness he could squeeze me in. I hope he doesn't have the same results from spontaneity as I do.