I usually debate whether or not to pick up calls that come up as "Private Number" on the caller ID. Especially since they're usually trying to sell me some sort of extended rebate.
On Saturday, I'm glad I took a chance. C. was calling from Nome, AK to say that a weather window which was quickly closing sent him and his crew packing early. He'd be flying from Anchorage Sunday.
Excellent, I thought. What good news.
And then there was this little matter of an erupting volcano (other than the one he normally lives with).
Thankfully, the smart pilots of his plane boarded everyone 20 minutes early, and got the heck outta Dodge (or Anchorage) just in time. He's happily snoozing (along with the cat and the dog) next to me. And we're all very glad to have him home safe and sound.
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Monday, March 23, 2009
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
So far, so good
... there's still plenty of wine left.
C. landed safely aboard the ship, and promises via e-mail that he has tales to tell of riding a four by four in -20 degree weather, holding on for dear life on the way out to the puddlejumper. He spent some time in a village of 600 people, one that has been largely self-sufficient for much of the 20th century. And the helicopter ride to the ship was "way cool."
Meanwhile, back in not-almost-Russia, things are going OK. Baby is working with Mama on negotiations, and short of few deal breakers (yes, you must get your diapered-butt out of your baby easy chair and actually sit in your high chair if you want your dinner), we've been working together well.
I spoke at an event tonight of women business owners (thanks to some able assistance from my friend Meg, who is an awesome, I repeat, awesome babysitter), which was both fun and humbling. Except for when she sent me a text message asking what color Stout, our cat is. And that she may have just dragged a strange cat into our house. Maybe. (She didn't. It was Stout the Adventurer, who had braved the wilds known as our back porch.)
But I digress.
The humbling part: Two of the women I was speaking with had husbands who recently returned from being deployed to Iraq. While I may fret and joke about how hard my 10 day stint may be, it ain't nothing compared to that. My hat's off to you, ladies.
C. landed safely aboard the ship, and promises via e-mail that he has tales to tell of riding a four by four in -20 degree weather, holding on for dear life on the way out to the puddlejumper. He spent some time in a village of 600 people, one that has been largely self-sufficient for much of the 20th century. And the helicopter ride to the ship was "way cool."
Meanwhile, back in not-almost-Russia, things are going OK. Baby is working with Mama on negotiations, and short of few deal breakers (yes, you must get your diapered-butt out of your baby easy chair and actually sit in your high chair if you want your dinner), we've been working together well.
I spoke at an event tonight of women business owners (thanks to some able assistance from my friend Meg, who is an awesome, I repeat, awesome babysitter), which was both fun and humbling. Except for when she sent me a text message asking what color Stout, our cat is. And that she may have just dragged a strange cat into our house. Maybe. (She didn't. It was Stout the Adventurer, who had braved the wilds known as our back porch.)
But I digress.
The humbling part: Two of the women I was speaking with had husbands who recently returned from being deployed to Iraq. While I may fret and joke about how hard my 10 day stint may be, it ain't nothing compared to that. My hat's off to you, ladies.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Overheard in the Kitchen
After hearing a short gasp coming from the kitchen, C stated the following wisdom:
"It's not good when you see the blood and you don't feel the pain, is it?"
(Postscript: Thankfully, it was a near miss, and the culprit was more strawberry juice than blood.)
"It's not good when you see the blood and you don't feel the pain, is it?"
(Postscript: Thankfully, it was a near miss, and the culprit was more strawberry juice than blood.)
Monday, March 24, 2008
Catching up
I'm sorry I've been away. It's been quite a week and a half.
Here then are the Cliff's Notes:
Thursday: Go to neurosurgeon consultation to see what's up with Baby's big head. Thankfully, the surgeon arrogantly dismisses us, which our pediatrician later shows me is a very good thing (you want specialists to be bored and uninterested), but which does result in me having a near meltdown when the front desk staff treats me as if I'm bothering them when I ask them to check their fax machine for Baby's charts.
Friday night: Just as we're about to jump into the car to head to Jerz to throw my dad a surprise birthday party, C. gets a call. Very sad news. His grandmother has taken a turn for the worse, and is nearing the end of her life. We need to go see her. Tonight.
Friday night, later: We detour to western Maryland, and thankfully have a chance to see Mom-Mom. She's not awake, but I think she knows we were there. And Baby was able to give Chris' mom some relief.
Friday night/Saturday morning: Arrive in New Jersey. Collapse.
Saturday: Spend all day acting like nothing's going on, while secretly prepping for Dad's party.
Saturday morning: Chris gets the sad call that his grandmother has passed away. She was 90, almost 91, and a very cool lady.
Saturday afternoon: We stay through, because there's nothing we can do back in Md., but also because the party is that night.
Saturday evening: Finally get Dad out of the house with Bro #2 and C. to play golf. Clean like madwomen with Mom and sisters-in-law.
Saturday night: Surprise! Thankfully, everything goes as smoothly as a crazy surprise party can. Dad is happily surprised.
Sunday, 2 a.m.: Good Lord, how are we all still awake? And who drank all that Ketel One?
Sunday: Drive to Maryland. See family. Be sad. Return to Va. to unpack, repack, and plan for the week.
Monday morning: Go to work, explain that I'm doing as much as I can in a few hours, then heading out.
Monday afternoon: Head back to Md., hopefully in time for the 3 p.m. viewing.
Monday evening: Go to viewing, then back to my mother-in-law's house for food. Marvel at the machine that is the church ladies feeding team. Unbelieveable. Head back to funeral home for evening viewing. Return. Collapse.
Tuesday: Get everybody up and out to funeral at the nursing home. Marvel at how life can be summed up in a few words, some flowers and thankfully the many, many people who cared deeply about you. May we all live so long with so many people who love us.
Tuesday afternoon: After trip to Pa. cemetery, and a sad final goodbye, return to mother-in-law's. Devour any food that dares get into our path.
Tuesday evening: Stay at in-law's. Amuse with baby whenever possible.
Wednesday morning: Get up. Get packed. Get dropped off at work.
Thursday-Friday: Work, including evening events.
Saturday: Thankfully, nothing. Lots of it.
Sunday: Cook (OK, C cooked), clean, grumble at one another about WHY WE DIDN'T DO THIS YESTERDAY, frantically dart around like waterbugs trying to get cleaned up, Baby dressed, us all out the door to church and back again to welcome in-laws for Easter dinner. Change plans midstream, to go with a divide and conquer strategy: I'd take Baby to church why C. finishes house. The reasoning was sound, and the dear Lord would understand, for good reason, as C. so eloquently stated: "I fear the wrath of God, and the wrath of my relatives. And one of them is much more forgiving." Have Easter dinner, to include an incredibly good meal of horseradish and garlic encrusted prime rib roast. Smile in amazement at Baby's ability to light up everyone's faces even in the saddest of times. Say a prayer of thanks.
So that's what's been up. More to come on my education on all things Baltimore, of what a cool grandmother my husband had, and the definition of a club basement.
Here then are the Cliff's Notes:
Thursday: Go to neurosurgeon consultation to see what's up with Baby's big head. Thankfully, the surgeon arrogantly dismisses us, which our pediatrician later shows me is a very good thing (you want specialists to be bored and uninterested), but which does result in me having a near meltdown when the front desk staff treats me as if I'm bothering them when I ask them to check their fax machine for Baby's charts.
Friday night: Just as we're about to jump into the car to head to Jerz to throw my dad a surprise birthday party, C. gets a call. Very sad news. His grandmother has taken a turn for the worse, and is nearing the end of her life. We need to go see her. Tonight.
Friday night, later: We detour to western Maryland, and thankfully have a chance to see Mom-Mom. She's not awake, but I think she knows we were there. And Baby was able to give Chris' mom some relief.
Friday night/Saturday morning: Arrive in New Jersey. Collapse.
Saturday: Spend all day acting like nothing's going on, while secretly prepping for Dad's party.
Saturday morning: Chris gets the sad call that his grandmother has passed away. She was 90, almost 91, and a very cool lady.
Saturday afternoon: We stay through, because there's nothing we can do back in Md., but also because the party is that night.
Saturday evening: Finally get Dad out of the house with Bro #2 and C. to play golf. Clean like madwomen with Mom and sisters-in-law.
Saturday night: Surprise! Thankfully, everything goes as smoothly as a crazy surprise party can. Dad is happily surprised.
Sunday, 2 a.m.: Good Lord, how are we all still awake? And who drank all that Ketel One?
Sunday: Drive to Maryland. See family. Be sad. Return to Va. to unpack, repack, and plan for the week.
Monday morning: Go to work, explain that I'm doing as much as I can in a few hours, then heading out.
Monday afternoon: Head back to Md., hopefully in time for the 3 p.m. viewing.
Monday evening: Go to viewing, then back to my mother-in-law's house for food. Marvel at the machine that is the church ladies feeding team. Unbelieveable. Head back to funeral home for evening viewing. Return. Collapse.
Tuesday: Get everybody up and out to funeral at the nursing home. Marvel at how life can be summed up in a few words, some flowers and thankfully the many, many people who cared deeply about you. May we all live so long with so many people who love us.
Tuesday afternoon: After trip to Pa. cemetery, and a sad final goodbye, return to mother-in-law's. Devour any food that dares get into our path.
Tuesday evening: Stay at in-law's. Amuse with baby whenever possible.
Wednesday morning: Get up. Get packed. Get dropped off at work.
Thursday-Friday: Work, including evening events.
Saturday: Thankfully, nothing. Lots of it.
Sunday: Cook (OK, C cooked), clean, grumble at one another about WHY WE DIDN'T DO THIS YESTERDAY, frantically dart around like waterbugs trying to get cleaned up, Baby dressed, us all out the door to church and back again to welcome in-laws for Easter dinner. Change plans midstream, to go with a divide and conquer strategy: I'd take Baby to church why C. finishes house. The reasoning was sound, and the dear Lord would understand, for good reason, as C. so eloquently stated: "I fear the wrath of God, and the wrath of my relatives. And one of them is much more forgiving." Have Easter dinner, to include an incredibly good meal of horseradish and garlic encrusted prime rib roast. Smile in amazement at Baby's ability to light up everyone's faces even in the saddest of times. Say a prayer of thanks.
So that's what's been up. More to come on my education on all things Baltimore, of what a cool grandmother my husband had, and the definition of a club basement.
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