July

Now that we've got temperatures over 100 degrees, again, I figure it's time to give a photo review of our July.

Cooling off in Lake Michigan, at my parents' house, and at Shedd Aquarium in Chicago:
(Teddy was only 3 months old!)

Nature drives (rather than walks, this summer):


Swimming lessons, slip 'n' slide, park:


And a baptism, but that deserves a post of its own.

I've had babies in the winter, before, and have felt a little trapped in my house by the weather. Having this baby in the spring would have been perfect except for the fact that this summer was hot and we spent a fair amount of time trapped inside the house by the weather! I'm not complaining too much, though. After all, it's September, glorious September, and crisp fall weather is right around the corner.

Permission to Change (Seasons)

My apologies for the erratic weather we've had so far this year. I recently realized that it's all my fault.

See, in December a friend gave me a novel called Snow by Turkish author Orhan Pamuk. As I read it in fits and starts, it took me a really really long time to finish. But I'm finally done! And so now the snow can stop and spring can commence in earnest.

You're welcome.

As for why it took me so long to finish this book, well, that's all me I suppose. I kept flipping back to the front cover to verify that the seal on the front proclaiming, "Winner of the Nobel Prize in Literature!" was still there and not just something I dreamed.

Later, I'd turn the book over and peruse the blurbs again. "One of the best books of the year" according to just about everyone from The New York Times Book Review to The Economist. Rave reviews from truly impressive people.

Repeatedly I read the jacket copy. "Slyly comic." Also, "humor," "wicked grin," etc.

I was excited to read this fabulous book, which came so highly recommended and is set in Turkey. (My in-laws lived in Turkey for years and my husband was actually born there; they returned to the states when his sister was ready for elementary school.)

But I just didn't get it. I didn't engage with the story, I didn't connect with the characters, and I felt frustrated by the pace. (The first day seemed to me like it must have been at least 48 hours long. Is Ka really in his late 30's as it appears? If so, how come the 17+ year age difference between close sisters Ipek and Kadife is never discussed?) I utterly missed the humor.

Obviously, this is all on me since apparently everyone else who's read Snow loved it. But I spent the first 200 pages trying to figure out why the author gave most of the unrelated main characters the same last name (Bey). Then I figured it must be a subtle comment on the provincial nature of Turkish society (the cerebral humor I'd been missing?). By page 300 I'd realized that "Bey" must be a sort of honorific (and it is). Some of my confusion might indeed have been cultural. I certainly feel like an uncultured ignoramus for my utter failure to appreciate this highly acclaimed novel.

But I finished it, and now it's spring!

Where We've Been

Last week's ice storm:

(In case it's not clear, the girls are playing ice hockey in boots on the surface formerly known as "our driveway.")

Ada's (labeled!) drawing of our family:

("D's" still sometimes flip upside down.)

Paul's marathon training:

(He's in the beard and orange gloves.)

"You're Crazy"

Last Thursday I ran in a pair of bright green Hometown High School Physical Education shorts that are helpfully emblazoned with a giant "L" so everyone can see my size at a glance.

Naturally, I don't condone stealing of any kind, and certainly not from public schools. But gym shorts are sort of a special category. At my high school, gym was required for what seemed like forever. And you couldn't buy your own uniform (unlike at my first high school) but you had to wear one. This put girls at the mercy of the woman working behind a little half door in the middle of the locker room. Every Monday she'd look at you, determine your size (student's input not requested or heeded if offered) and hand you a uniform for the week. Every Friday she'd watch you closely to insure that you dropped all components in the laundry bin.

I got the impression that she hated her job or else delighted in making us suffer because she was always handing me these nasty little polyester size smalls. They looked more like cheap, unflattering volleyball bloomers than gym shorts. Toward the end of my high school career the school invested in a few longer, looser-fitting cotton gym shorts. These were obviously in high demand! I rarely got them, and always wanted to keep hold of them when I did.

But I'm no good at stealing. Fortunately, I have two little sisters, God bless 'em. But honestly I have no idea how this particular pair of shorts made it home, so I cast no aspersions. I was just glad to find them in my drawer one morning last week while searching for non-wicking attire to wear in the rain.

I graduated from high school in 1993. What this means: the 18-year-old elastic was completely shot. No problem, I figured. They never had very much stretch to begin with. Other than the wide elastic waistband, the fabric itself has no give whatsoever.

As long as I keep moving and keep my glutes firing, the shorts should stay up just fine. Hah.

Naturally, at the furthest point of my loop, the shorts started to go. I rolled the waistband and kept moving. Then I rolled it again. Again. The shorts were now as short as their polyester predecessors and still sliding.

Good thing Thursday's run was a short, easy workout. I spent about a mile running comfortably, another mile yanking up my shorts every few houses, then walked the last half mile while staying decently clothed. (Apparently it's the bouncing up and down of my running style that encourages clothing to slither from my body.)

Moral of the story: stealing never pays? But I still love these shorts. So maybe I'll just invest in some new elastic.

(Today's blog post title thanks to a telephone repair dude I met en route. It's raining lightly, everything slick and yucky, and he's standing outside loaded down with electronics, probably about to climb up some big pole. But I'm crazy?! Maybe so, because no one's paying me to run. Anyway, he said it with a smile.)

Eyjafjallajokull Photos

More from Eyjafjallajokull - The Big Picture - Boston.com

This is easily one of the coolest slideshows I've ever seen.  Here's the first photo as a teaser.  Click through!

Posted using ShareThis

Being a Stay/Work at Home Mom

The Good:

This morning I played with my girls while we leisurely got dressed and listened to books on CD. We're all in comfortable, casual clothes. No make-up, no fancy hair styles, just everyday casual plus extra relaxed.

Then I walked Ellie to her bus, waved as she left, packed lunch with Ada, and drove my little one to preschool.

After getting her settled, I headed outside. The weather here this morning is sunny and lightly breezy with temperatures in the upper 60's. I took a brisk 3 mile walk before heading home.

And now I can . . . work, write, clean, or relax. The next few hours are all mine!

The Less Good:

Instead of going to bed when my eyes threatened to close last night, I was up finishing a freelance project on deadline.

That's such a minor complaint, though. I have the freedom and flexibility to work from home as my schedule allows. I get to make money and be home during the day. And I'm a night owl, anyway.

Also, it's sunny, warm, and spring! I feel very fortunate today.

It's Getting Hot in Here

I'm a big fan of English comedian Matt Kirshen.

He recently blogged about the futility of arguing with wingnuts.

"So no more. No more rational argument, facts or reasons. My new tactic is to fight conspiracy theories with even crazier counter-conspiracy theories of my own. I invite you to join me.
...
Conspiracy: Drugs companies are pushing dangerous vaccines on people to make money even though they know it causes autism/fevers/duck-like symptoms.
...
It's all very well showing carefully researched scientific documents proving they are relatively safe* and pointing out that these theories have resulted in certain illnesses making huge come-backs. No one likes facts. Facts are duller than hedgehogs, statistically the dullest animal (fact).

My new argument:

Counter conspiracy: The companies know this is a myth, but the second everyone has the vaccine, the disease becomes extinct. This is the last thing they want. No one makes any money from smallpox any more. What if Measles, TB, Whooping Cough etc all went the same way? At the moment they get money from the vaccines AND from treating the disease. The second the illness is wiped out, that's their profits through the floor.

The people behind the anti-vaccine message ARE the drugs companies themselves. If they keep uptake at about 60%, leaving 40% carrying and perpetuating the diseases, they can carry on selling them forever. Better still, the MMR scare makes parents buy three separate vaccines rather than the cheaper 3 in 1. Bonus! If you want to really stop the evil big-pharm, then buy their products and tell everyone to do the same. It's the last thing they want."

I'm reminded of Kirshen's suggestion every time I'm in a situation where someone remarks on a cool day and scoffs at the idea of global warming.

Like while my (science teacher) father-in-law and I were at the swimming pool a couple of weeks ago. My mother-in-law was hustling the girls off to the car while I packed things into our giant pool bag.

"Almost chilly today, isn't it?" a perfectly ordinary stranger asked, toweling off after her river walking exercise class.

"It's been so lovely this summer. We're really enjoying the weather!" I replied enthusiastically, stepping right into her trap.

"Some global warming, huh?"

This didn't really seem like the time to lecture a perfect stranger on the topic of global climate change, so I just grunted noncommittally while my father-in-law smiled politely and we prepared ourselves to leave.

"I mean, really, global warming!" she said. Perhaps she thought we had water in our ears.

She continued shaking her head. "Global warming," she muttered one more time as we scuttled away.

She was obviously expecting us to agree with her. Barring that, perhaps she hoped for some sort of confrontation.

But seriously. Great job, anti-environmental lobby, politicians, and Fox news. You've managed to convince normal-looking people that global climate change(see below) is a myth.

Now that there's irrefutable scientific evidence (and consensus) about global climate change - both its existence and the fact that we're the proximate cause - such parties have moved on to arguing that either a) it's not going to be so bad, really, or b) it would cripple our robust economy to attempt to fix the problem so we'd better not try. Or both. (Looking right at you, George Will.)

Somebody should explain that to Greenland, which is already losing about 52 cubic miles per year - and the rate is accelerating. (Climate-Change Calculus: Why it's even worse than we feared by Sharon Begley) And, also, everyone who lives near water. New Orleans is toast, but what's new? And who cares about those liberals in California? New York isn't "real America," am I right? Besides, we don't care about any stinking pyramids in Egypt or canals in Venice. Floridians can look forward to seeing the ocean from their front and back doors. Win-win situation! And flooding Hawaii will free us up to annex Iraq as the 50th state.

Global sea levels are currently expected to rise at least one meter this century! And that's not even touching on droughts, storms, agriculture, or mosquitoes.

Oh, wait. Mosquitoes! Now I'm paying attention. I sure do hate mosquitoes.

Counter conspiracy: Those stupid climate change scientists are always trying to tell us what to do. In the name of freedom, let's put a lock-down on carbon emissions! Let's limit unnecessary travel, which will hinder their ability to travel to stupid climate change summits. Let's shut down the all modern industry - including the internet - so that they can't spread their nasty climate horror stories. Booyah! That'll stop their little experiments.

It's hot here now!



(This is below) See above geology.com link for "global warming" vs. "global climate change."

Perfect Weather

I would be weird for me not to mention the weather, so I guess I'll get that out of the way right now.

This has been the best summer in St. Louis . . . ever. My first full summer here was 1997 and my car didn't have air conditioning so I rolled down the windows and sweated my way from May through September.

Each summer after that seemed progressively hotter. Last summer it was so hot and there were so many bugs around that I didn't want to leave the house. Hustling the girls from the front door to the car earned us mosquito bites. It was like living in a jungle. A few of the whiny little pests (I do not mean my children) inevitably made it into the van, so I'd be swerving all over the road while swatting at them. Miserable.

This year, I prepared myself for the worst . . . and have yet to find it. This spring was amazing. So beautiful! How have I never noticed all the flowering things around me? How have I never enjoyed this time of warmth and sunshine and pretty new growth and sweet smells and few bugs? I concentrated on soaking it all in, preparing for a long, hot summer of hating nature.

But now it's late July and it's still wonderful. There are bugs, alas, but not nearly so many as last year. One day last fall, Ada and I were out dragging sticks to the curb for yard waste pickup day. We worked for less than an hour, right smack in the middle of the day, and still got eaten alive by mosquitoes. This year she and I have each had one bite; Ellie's had none. And we've been outside a lot more.

It's not just the bugs, either. It's the weather! June was lovely. July is when it gets really bad, I keep reminding myself. Right when my in laws visit from Wyoming. That might still happen - they come next week - but it's been downright cool here all month.

There was some intense heat for a brief period in late June, starting just before we left for vacation in Michigan. Perfect timing! Since then, it's mostly been in the 70's during the day. Ellie's swimming lesson was moved to the indoor pool yesterday because it was too cold outside. When we do go swim in the mornings, we have the place almost to ourselves. We left the park early tonight because Ada was looking chilly in her short sleeves and skirt. (Ellie was OK in long pants.) When I walk after dark, I'm sometimes cool until I start to work up a sweat.

So, yeah, a weather post that involved no dramatic weather. I just want to go on record with how wonderful this year has been, how much I've been enjoying the unseasonably cool weather and taking advantage of it. I'm sure it's possible to write something interesting about pleasant weather that doesn't involve complaining. I just haven't figured it out yet.

Let's just all sit outside in the breeze drinking latte and waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Maybe I'll just close my eyes for a few minutes . . .

The world smells like Liquid Smoke. I got some on my hands tonight at Time for Dinner, and though I washed up right away, it seems to have penetrated my soul. Or at least my pores. And perhaps I rubbed my nose or brushed my hair back from my face at some point? At any rate, my "birthday cake" flavored milkshake tonight was a little unsettling. I felt like I was drinking it at a campfire. Or, worse, like it was spiked with meat.

We made it through a second snow day in a row, though I did cave and allow a video this morning so that I could take a shower, drink a cup of coffee, and read a couple of chapters of the book I want to return to the library tomorrow. Over the past month, I've read 3 George RR Martin novels and 3 Desden Files novels. Tomorrow I start a trilogy of thrillers that have nothing to do with fantasy - epic or urban. I am ready for a genre switch! (I also recently finished a Carson McCullers novel, but we don't need to talk about that. And some other books, too. But we're really getting far afield from my point, here.)

I got my word count in last night, but tonight's not looking so good. I've already convinced myself that I'll take my laptop and "write in bed," but that never goes well. I'm also convinced that I can do three things at once tomorrow morning, which is how I get into trouble, schedule-wise. I'm planning to drop off Ada at school (her first day in a new classroom!), register Ellie for Kindergarten, and find a quiet corner somewhere to write. One of these things is unlikely to happen.

I'm still loving the weather here. It's cold enough to preserve the snow, but not cold enough to hurt: highs around 20 with sun and little wind. Ada loved playing in the snow today. This afternoon, while I was shoveling, Ada worked alongside me with a little plastic trowel from the sand table. I scooped big shovelsful of snow off the driveway, and she followed along, scooping tiny chunks of snow back onto the pavement and saying, "I cleaning! I helping!" Ellie enjoyed playing at the sand table (?) and sitting on the sled asking to be pulled around the yard. Kids today. Life is easy! Back when I was a kid we had to haul our own sleds up hills. 5 miles long, they were! And when you got to the top, well, you'd just climb some more to get back home! (Because it was uphill both ways, of course.)

Then Paul came home and matched what I'd spent an hour doing in about 15 minutes. Whatever. Since it's likely to be my only shoveling experience of the winter, I didn't mind the work at all. Although I never realized just how long and wide our driveway really is.

Now give me 1000 words of page-turning, tension-building fiction in which nothing really happens. Then I'll let you go to bed!

Soft, White, Pillowy

School is canceled again for tomorrow, but at least it's a real snow day this time, complete with snow! This morning, I could still see the dead leaves through the 2-3 inch dusting on our front lawn, and it just felt silly to have school called off for something so . . . insignificant. (Note that I used to live on the southern shore of Lake Michigan, and lake effect snow is . . . beautiful, fun, and significant!) This evening, it started to snow for real, and everything outside is now magical. I'm looking forward to tomorrow's snow day even more than today's . . .

Except that Kindergarten registration is postponed again and that means that I don't get either of my two writing mornings this week, a week before I practice pitching Seek Ye First at a writer's conference. Gulp. (It's not ready, though it's not nearly as bad as my outdated sidebar would suggest.) Plus, the girls will be very disappointed when they realize that there's no MusikGarten this week.

But, hey, there's snow! It's amazing how that really does cheer me up. Our finances this month look . . . unpleasant due to heater repairs and my conference bills hitting during the same pay period. (We'll make it, no worries, but we're having to be more organized and disciplined than usual.) But I can't be pessimistic about it. I keep qualifying the bad money news and not understanding why Paul's crabby about it. "We had to juggle some things around, but we've dealt with it. Cheer up!" I told him. Apparently, snow isn't a magical cure-all for my Wyoming boy.

Anyway, today I stumbled upon a fun blog quiz thingie on someone else's blog while I was doing a little administrative work. What does your sleeping position say about you? (It's so true! I am a big, cranky, light-sleeping baby. Except when there's snow! Also note: comfort can be spelled S-N-O-W but also C-H-I-P-S-&-S-A-L-S-A.)

Your Sleeping Position Says You Need Comfort

You are secretly sensitive, but you often put up a front. Shy and private, you yearn for security. You take relationships slowly. You need lots of reassurances before you can trust. If you don't get enough sleep, you are: Cranky and a big baby It's hard to sleep next to you because: You are a light sleeper

What Does Your Sleeping Position Say About You?

Snow and Garlic

. . . and school's already been canceled for tomorrow so Kindergarten registration is postponed. Sigh.

I am thrilled that we're finally having a bit of winter weather, though! And the girls will get to play in the snow tomorrow! Last year, Ada was just a toddler and couldn't handle walking in the snow very well. This year, she'll LOVE it.

Thinking of Ada, she and I popped by the grocery after leaving Ellie at preschool. We're St. Louis natives, now, so of course we had to go out for bread and milk at the first hint of a winter storm. (A friend says, "bread, milk, eggs - why does everyone here make french toast when it snows?") A strolling cafe worker ambushed us with an offer of freshly baked veggie breakfast pizza. We accepted and enjoyed, not realizing that it was a big, nasty booby trap. Ada's last bite contained an entire clove of garlic, and for the rest of the day, she reeked. I could barely stand to nurse her.

Yes, nurse her. She's made it very clear that she's uninterested in weaning. We're still in discussions about the issue. I really want it to be a child-led development. But I also want to finish up this nursing thing before she goes off to college.

I'm leaving her overnight for the first time in a couple of weeks, to go to a weekend writer's conference (gulp). Maybe that will do the trick. But I doubt it. My little strong-willed-child has nothing wrong with her memory!

Now You're Getting Warmer

As with our air conditioner in August, we had a little warning with our heater in January, at least in retrospect. Optimism is such a tempting drug that it rarely allows me to heed warnings ahead of time. When the heat conked out a few times but turned back on easily when Paul flipped the unit off then back on again, we didn't worry too much about it. There was always some other excuse we could make fit: the way the filter was installed, the winter/summer moisture setting, the gas company coming out to test our lines, etc.

But it wasn't any of those things; it was a little teeny wire sensor dealie on the heater itself. And the unit is only 10 years old and in good shape, far from needing to be replaced. There was just this one little malfunctioning part. That turned out to be very expensive to replace. $600 of expensive, during the coldest snap of the winter so far. Waiting was not an option, going without heat was not an option. Still, I called Paul who Googled up a storm to determine that we weren't being robbed blind. We weren't. But even if we were, I probably would have written the check just for some heat. By the time the repair guys got to our house, it was about 50 degrees inside, even with a roaring fire in the fireplace and sunlight streaming through the windows, and 11 degrees outside, with nightfall coming.

We have a very large fireplace. You could maybe roast a small pig in there with no problem. But the flue design seems a little faulty. Although we recently had the chimney professionally cleaned (it was in great shape, apparently) and do know how to work the flue, for some reason more smoke and cold air seem to blow in than out when we have a fire. Alas.

Anyway, the repair was quickly and easily accomplished and we had heat to ride out the rest of last week's cold snap. This week, it's supposed to get up into the 50's. Ah, winter in St. Louis. (On the plus side, the girls and I went with friends to the zoo on Monday and despite it being a holiday we had the place almost to ourselves because of temperatures in the 20's.) Now if only we could put aside both the warmth and ice for a while and have a couple of nice good snows! I miss snow. And money. But let's focus on the snow, shall we?

Like Bullet Points, but Lazier

First of all, Annika is doing well. I mean, she's still a very sick little girl, but she's doing as well as can be expected.

Second, wow, I like the big TV. I still like lots of things about not having a big TV, and I'm much more excited about taking the girls to Disney World than having a big TV, but, it sure is lovely. As is the thought of a fancy, new, HD Tivo that could connect to our wireless network. Ah, well. Other priorities intrude.

Third, a funny thing about the Wii Fit. Most of my family and many of my friends have Miis on my Wii (for the non-Nintendo folk, this means that they have a character/avatar who looks a lot like them hanging out on our machine). When I'm hula hooping my way to fitness, Paul encouragingly tosses me additional virtual hoops. When I'm out for a jog in Golden Gate Park, various friends smile at me as they pass headed the other way. Meanwhile, Ada totally passes me up without a glance, quickly disappearing into the distance ahead of me without so much as a wave. Sometimes, she laps me. Hilarious. Anything to keep me coming back for more.

Fourth, what the heck is up with the 80+ degree weather for days on end? Ada has 4 new mosquito bites on her face. Bring back autumn, please.

Finally, here's Ellie holding her new little friend, AJ:

From 2008-10

(Ada's not quite as excited about his arrival. Mildly interested and jealous, perhaps.)

Whine, Slap!

This has been a lovely, beautiful autumn week here in St. Louis. The humidity is low, the sun is out, the air has a little bite, and finally, finally, the mosquitoes are gone. Days have been in the mid-60's and nights in the low-50's. Evening walks after dinner require a sweater but are otherwise perfect.

Just last week, the weather was still hot and muggy. And we've had the worst year for mosquitoes. It's a wonder I haven't had a car accident or gotten a ticket, as I've spent half the summer driving around swatting at miniature blood suckers in the van, swerving irregularly.

One day last week, Ada and I went outside for an hour to drag branches down to the curb. And despite being in the sunlight in a mown yard at noon, we both came in covered with bites. And poor, poor Ada has a significant reaction to mosquito bites. So I've been enjoying the last few days.

The other side of the season change, though, is the increase in political yard signs. News coverage is almost exclusively political. I came into this election cycle still a little burned and burned out from 2000 and 2004. So here it is October 2008 and I've already reached a boiling point.

There have been studies - objective studies - measuring media coverage of Republican and Democratic candidates, both quantity and favorability of coverage, and determined that the so-called liberal media bias is a myth, a rallying cry for the right. But it's what we're still hearing, along with blatant lies. Obama wants more abortions? Obama wants comprehensive sex ed for kindergartners? (I heard McCain actually defend this latter one on NPR's Morning Edition today!)

To set that part of the record straight . . .

On abortion, Obama opposes a constitutional amendment overturning Roe v. Wade. Also:

Barack Obama is an original co-sponsor of legislation to expand access to contraception, health information and preventive services to help reduce unintended pregnancies. Introduced in January 2007, the Prevention First Act will increase funding for family planning and comprehensive sex education that teaches both abstinence and safe sex methods. The Act will also end insurance discrimination against contraception, improve awareness about emergency contraception, and provide compassionate assistance to rape victims.

(Note that the desired end of education about contraception and reducing unplanned pregnancies is to significantly decrease the number of abortions.)

And regarding the ridiculous sex ed claim:
Here's a cite from the conservative Christian CBN News: I must say that Romney's comments suggesting that Obama wants to teach sex education to kindergarteners is a little misleading. Because he didn't put in the proper context, many in the audience probably left thinking that Obama is ok with the condoms and cucumber approach.

[Obama's clarification] Now, I'll give you an example, because I have a six-year-old daughter and a three-year-old daughter, and one of the things my wife and I talked to our daughter about is the possibility of somebody touching them inappropriately, and what that might mean.

And that was included specifically in the law, so that kindergarteners are able to exercise some possible protection against abuse, because I have family members as well as friends who suffered abuse at that age. So, that's the kind of stuff that I was talking about in that piece of legislation.

And from ABC News: Obama responded to the attack in 2004 by saying that he wants young children, including his own daughters, to know the difference between appropriate and inappropriate touching because he has family members and friends who suffered abuse at early ages.

On the other side there was that health care deregulation just like banking deregulation gaffe on McCain's part that Obama has used to attack him. While that's definitely what McCain said, it's probably not what he really meant. In context, he probably just meant buying medical insurance across state lines, not actual deregulation. I hope. It's hard to say, in the absence of a clear, strong response.

So, bah humbug. (In addition to being fall, it's apparently also Christmas shopping season.)

Is the level of discourse just going to get worse and worse every four years? Are we so stupid that we can't handle civilized, truthful discourse that comes in paragraphs rather than soundbites and rhyming slogans? Can we have Change?

Easter

It's warm and rainy here today, unlike Easter when it was cool and blizzarding off and on. Weird weather. Paul looked up the record highs and lows for St. Louis on March 23rd and learned that the record low was -3 and the record high was 96 (degrees Fahrenheit). We were right about in the middle of that enormous range this year, but with an unusual sky assault featuring snow, rain, sleet, tiny balls of ice, and other anomalies.

We were greeters at church Easter morning, and, of course, we have pictures of the girls in the their finery both before church and hunting plastic eggs in the living room later in the day (thanks to Nana for the dresses):


We've been having some strong weather around here this spring, including lots of rain and resultant flooding. (Note to Lisa: the nearby flooding has been in Valley Park. Which is, you know, a VALLEY. Though we live quite nearby, we're on top of a large ridge, on high ground, and have had no trouble with excess water.) (Note to everyone else: Lisa likes to tease me about our neighborhood.)

We did, however, enjoy getting as close as possible to experience the unusual event. (Note: the levies held! This was a non-tragic flood event.) The building in the background being licked by flood waters in this photo of Ellie is the Kirkwood water department.


Finally: note update to contest below (last paragraph). People I know: you have been warned.

Snowed In

Our subdivision is at the top of a hill, and, in the middle of the neighborhood, our house is at one of the highest places within the subdivision. As I am not a runner, and our ranch-style house is not a big lightening magnet, the only time I take notice of of this is when St. Louis gets its periodic big floods: whew, glad we don't have to worry about that!

That is, until it took Paul nearly 2 hours to get home from work today after leaving his office shortly before noon. His commute is usually no more than 20 minutes, and today he spent the last hour of his white-knuckled drive within a mile of our house, trying to find a way up the hill. Aha! A snowplow, finally! (The snow was deeper than the Passatt, which did make driving difficult.) Alas. Cars stuck on the hill, forcing him to turn around again.

Eventually, he did make it to our subdivision, to our street, but from the bottom. He walked a couple hundred feet to change his clothes, don some gloves, and pick up a shovel. Whereupon he shoveled his way two houses up the street, then up our driveway. (His office never did officially close for the day.)

The girls and I stayed snug and warm inside all day until after nap time, when we all trooped outside to experience the deep, heavy snow with sled, angels, and a large snowman as the snow was beginning to taper off.

When the sleet first turned to snow this morning, I pulled down the crock pot and started browning stew meat, so we had a warm cozy dinner - along with Paul's homemade biscuits - after playing outside this afternoon.

Also, I managed to keep my personal goal of not losing my temper with the girls at all today, despite staying up late last night and running around the bed in a sleepy panic to answer the 5:45 am phone call alerting us that school was canceled. Tonight, I'm keeping the handset on my side of the bed, just in case.

For cuteness sake, here's a picture of the girls in their matching outfits after church on Sunday. I mention that they're matching because it's not immediately obvious given Ada's much darker shirt. Witness the bottle of water that they're sharing, and Ada's habit of purposefully spilling water all over herself while drinking, and saying, "Mess! Mess!" and there you have it.

Ice Storm

Every January, St. Louis gets a big ice storm. I've been worried that we'd miss it this year, but it was just late! I suppose it's a little odd that I love the ice storm, but I really do. Unless it knocks out the power.

We have a cozy house stocked with plenty of comfort foods. As long as we have electricity, we'll be fine here for a few days.

I love the way the world outside is so silent, glistening, pristine, deadly. It's like the trees and telephone wires and mailboxes have gotten all dressed up in their formal wear and bling. It's the calm after the storm. It's a celebration of life to take little children outside to experience such an event, and it will be Ada's first one.

I love the enforced quietude of being iced in. There's no real pressure to go anywhere or do anything constructive; it's a winter storm! The only pressure is to drink hot chocolate and pamper yourself a bit.

So, for dinner tonight, I made two pizzas. The first was on whole wheat dough, covered with a light Parmesan Alfredo sauce (Rob, this was originally intended for you) topped with some fresh baby spinach flash-fried in a touch of EVOO and mozzarella cheese. The second was more traditional: red sauce, pepperoni, and mozzarella on an Italian white crust. The girls ate, and loved, the white pizza. I served broccoli on the side, drizzled with more of the Parmesan Alfredo, but didn't sweat it too much, since there was spinach on the pizza.

What? A food blog, from me?! Surely not. Tomorrow, the plan is for a homemade chicken pot pie, as long as there's power and Paul's here to entertain the girls while I cook comfort food, and I'll try to spare you the details. Pictures of girls on ice will hopefully follow . . . as soon as a new-new external hard drive arrives to replace our still-under-warranty drive that holds all such precious commodities and is currently reluctant to function (we do have the photos stored elsewhere as well).

Shiver

Did you think my weekend silence might have indicated labor and delivery? Wrong!

It hasn't been all thumb twiddling, though. We did have an ice storm on Friday night. Ellie and I went to lunch with Paul at his office's cafeteria (they make individual pizzas on Fridays) and during the 45 minutes we were inside, the temperature fell from 60 to about 40. Overnight it continued to rain and get colder, so we awoke on Saturday to a fantastic wonderland, all the trees perfectly encased in gleaming ice, all the flags frozen stiffly in place.

Ellie enjoyed throwing the ice to watch it shatter on the driveway, brushing her unmittened hand against the frozen evergreens, and splashing in the puddles. It's been especially lovely because the ground hasn't frozen so it's not treacherous to get around. Branches and entire trees are falling everywhere, though. We've lost several branches from our trees, and lost power for a few hours yesterday. We are among the lucky ones; 60% of our suburb was without power this morning.

Paul and I often claim that there's not enough cold and snow around here, but it's also true that the beautiful ice storm we get nearly every January is a stunningly impressive part of the weather here that's much less common where we're each from.

So. Under 13 hours until my doctor comes back on duty. I'm thinking I can make it, given my lack of progress over the weekend.

At church this morning, everyone was surprised to see me. The woman who usually sits in the pew behind us has been asking me "how many weeks do you have left?" since my 20th week. Last week she commented on my plaid jumper, and this week she just looked at me and threw up her hands. I used to be annoyed by this; now I think it's funny. Really, without a sense of humor, what do I have?

I'll be laughing especially hard when I deliver a 7 pound baby instead of the 10 pounder that everyone seems to be expecting.

Bluster

Some poor woman who was just doing her job called me this evening. She was from Charter Communications and at first I was very excited to hear from her. Then I realized that she was trying to sell me on VOIP.

"This is a very bad time. You don't want to talk to me about this right now. See, my cable has been out for almost 4 days. I am absolutely not interested in any additional services from Charter at this time."

"Oh! I'm sorry. Have you tried to call-"

"I've tried to call everywhere. I can't get a live person. I can't get an estimate of when they expect the service to be restored. I feel sorry for you having to call people in this area tonight."

It turns out that the cable came back this evening before Lost, and Paul has had good luck finding the Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday shows we watch online. But this is April sweeps; a very bad time to be without TV with no warning. I would have been fine if it had been at the end of the week, but we typically record our favorite shows early in the week and stretch them out all week long. The third to last episode of The West Wing ever. Gray's Anatomy. 24. House. Good stuff.

What happened is this. On Sunday afternoon, after I awoke in a panic, I harried everyone out the door and into the car for an emergency trip to Target to pick up a present. It was beautiful outside: sunny and in the low 80's, with just enough breeze to keep things pleasant.

I knew exactly what I wanted in Target and we broke records getting into and out of the store. We exited into a strong wind from the west and an ominously black horizon. "Wow, that storm is coming up quickly," Paul said.

We drove a few blocks to Ellie's friend's house, and parked at the corner to sign the gift cards. Tree branches started whipping around and the first drops of rain started to fall. We pulled up to the house, where festive balloons danced gaily, tied to the picket fence. Then they fell. I looked at the car's thermometer and saw that the temperature had dropped 30 degrees, right along with the barometric pressure.

I ran to the house to drop off the present in a downpour and had a hard time opening and closing my car door. Moving boxes and new leaves were blowing everywhere.

When I got back into the car, we switched from toddler tunes to NPR, often a controversial move. We learned that a thunderstorm with "extremely strong rotation" was in Valley Park, the suburb just southwest of us, moving northeast at 55 mph.

We decided to drive into it and head on home. Home is only a 4 minute drive from Ellie's friend's house, or it should have been. Paul managed to run us into a couple of dead ends and strange meanders. He never quite approached the speed limit. I was about to push down the gas pedal myself with the wrapping paper roll.

When we got home, the sun was coming back out; the storm had passed us on the road. And we'd missed the worst of it.

If we'd been at home, we would have been down in the basement like sane people. We wouldn't have noticed right away that the wall on our neighbor's garage - just 15 feet or so from our carport (the only place where our house is close to a neighbor's) had pulled away from the rest of the structure.

The "strong rotation" had ripped the whole wall out a bit and strewn contents of their garage over our back yard. Amazing. We were very lucky. But somehow the weather announcer's suggestion that we hop out of our car - in the downpour and with tree branches flying all around - and lie in a ditch with our 2-year-old until the storm passed over us just didn't sound very appealing. I figured we had a better chance in the steel Passatt with its safety glass and 8 airbags.

I bet Paul doesn't groan at me so loudly the next time I wake everyone up to go downstairs when the sirens go off. I used to live in Kansas, where they take tornados very seriously. In Missouri they seem to like crying wolf with the sirens. Fortunately, we have a poofy couch and cable in our basement - most of the time, anyway.

Clash

I'd like to start by pointing out that I live in the Midwest, Heartland of America, etc. It's November. And it was over 80 degrees outside today. I had the air conditioning on. In November! It's unnatural. Moving on to other comments about unholiness:

On the way to church on Sunday, Paul noted that Ellie was wearing a red jumper, which looked atrocious next to his orange shirt. I pointed out that my hot pink pin stripes weren't improving the picture. I think we look much better when we match:
The shirts say, Mummy, Deady, and Little Ghoul.

That's about all I remember before Ellie and I were laid up by a nasty GI bug, thanks to the cutest little plague carrier in the world. The two of us are starting to feel much better, though Paul is starting to complain of the ick. Jessica, I hope that you and yours are well. (They were here the night we were visited by the cutest little plague carrier in the world.)

Other than pregnancy-related illness, which is not to be discounted, I can't remember the last time I had a flu bug. This is my third this year, and last time was only a month ago! Whine! Still, I am perfectly *thrilled* by how well Ellie seems to be bouncing back. She's doing much better than I am. Perhaps it has something to do with the entire liter of Pedialyte she drank yesterday while I dehydrated myself to decrease the frequency of, well, I'll just stop right there.