And a Happy New Year

It's hard to believe that it was a week ago tonight that I sat here with a full house above my head. Tonight is a lot quieter - but that's ok. I've never been much of a partier.

And I'm a little tired tonight, anyway.

So we'll end tonight and we'll end this year, as I think we ended last year - with this song and my best wishes for you in the year, and years to come...

Merry Christmas

As I sit here, it is still Christmas Eve - but only for another thirty minutes or so. I'm sitting here, waiting; waiting for a safe time to check Sam's night table to see if Santa has left him chocolates, and to be able to check it without him waking up.

Sam and Jake and Rachael and Helaina spent the evening making cookies, like they have every Christmas Eve. And before heading upstairs, Sam left his annual letter to Santa. 

There's a lot going on in that letter this year. There's a lot going on inside of him.

The stockings that were hung on the banister earlier this evening are now filled, and the presents are all under the tree. And I wait for it to be quiet upstairs. And I wait to be sure. 

This moment, I think, is my Christmas. To know that everyone is home and upstairs and safe - and that everything is taken care of, at least for one more night. 

At least for one more year.

In a few more minutes, I will head upstairs and hopefully find that Sam is asleep and I will hopefully see some candy on his nightstand - a sign that someone visited him tonight - someone that loves him and thinks that he's special. 

And I hope that he feels that love, and I hope that his brother and sisters do too - even though Santa no longer leaves candy on their nightstands.

I also hope that you have a very merry Christmas and I hope that the coming year is good and kind to you. 

Merry Christmas.

'Tis the Season

Here's some more Christmas music to get you in the mood. This was great stuff... when I was five years old...

Let's start with this one, which currently has a high of fifteen "thumbs up" on YouTube, with one nonbeliever giving it a "thumbs down"...



Then of course, there is this classic, which by the way, has a whopping thirty-nine "thumbs up" on YouTube, with ZERO "thumbs down!" I'm pretty sure that 's some kind of record for a YouTube video. Feel free to sing along...



Before we conclude with one more song, here's a little history of this family calssic: This song you are about to hear was originally written in Latin, sometime in the later part of the first century A.D. For years, it was known only in isolated regions of southern and central parts of Europe.

It is believed to have originated as a personal mediation before slowly evolving over the coming centuries into an early Gregorian chant (circa 635 C.E.)  Eventually, it gained prominence as the centerpiece of annual sacred ceremonies; ceremonies which had first celebrated the winter solstice but later evolved into Christian celebrations. It was at these ceremonies where the chant would be sung daily, beginning with the day of the solstice and continuing until approximately January 15th (of our modern day calendar.)

For centuries, it remained almost entirely unchanged - and largely forgotten.

It wasn't until sometime around 1963 that the chant was finally translated into modern day English, where it was also put to music - becoming what we recognize today as the popular hymn which is still sung every holiday season, in churches all over the world. Enjoy.

Not Before?

Posted over the toilet in a public restroom...

I'm not sure what to say about this. To make it even more confusing, the toilets were the kind that flush automatically.

A Brief Conversation

Sam: (surprised and sounding happy): "So, you’re going to be home on Friday???"

Me: (flattered that he probably wants to spend some quality time together): "Yup! I sure am!"

Sam: "Maybe you can cook me some bacon!"

Wrapping Up

I've been spending the last week or so wrapping presents off and on, in preparation of Christmas. Even though I've cut back some this year, there's still quite a bit to wrap. At least it feels that way,

All the presents are here with the exception of one or two. One of them, which I ordered online, is late. Thankfully, it has a tracking number, but every time I look, it seems to be moving all around the state and nowhere near our house. I'm not quite sure what's going on. 

First it arrives in the central part of the State, where it seems to have parked itself for a few days, then it gets delivered to another post office - in the opposite direction from where I live. It gets parked there for a few days and then for some reason, it gets delivered back to the other post office, and it's been there for another three days.

A few years ago, I ordered some boots for Rachel and they somehow got shipped up to Alaska -and I don't live in Alaska. Fortunately, they eventually ended up at our doorstep in time for Christmas. I'm hoping the same holds true this time. We'll see.

Some Christmas Music

Let’s listen to some Christmas music!

I bought this CD, I think about twenty-five years ago- back when they used to have actual CD stores. I picked it up for a few dollars, thinking it might be something the kids would enjoy, and I was right. It quickly became a favorite.

I would sometimes play it in the house, but I would almost always play it whenever we would go on one of our may rides together - often just to look at the Christmas lights. The kids would sing along belting out, “Us be Santa…,” which I still feel is not only better, but somehow more appropriate as well.

I never would have imagined that after all these years later, I would still be listening to it. But Sam likes me to put it on when we run errands or when we are also looking at Christmas lights together.

And while he doesn’t belt out the tunes like his siblings did, it’s nice to hear him singing along, quietly to himself, stopping only to point out some more pretty lights. And, just like with his brother and sisters, if a song isn’t over when we pull into our driveway, we sit in the car together and listen until it ends.

I kind of like that, too.

Catching Up

My apologies for being so late. I'm going to blame it on the holidays, which I think is a pretty good excuse because it's actually at least partly true. So, what's been going on? Glad you asked...

Thanksgiving came and went in a whirlwind. I picked up Jake and his guinea pigs, on Wednesday. His car is out of commission - permanently, as it turns out, having been driven into a misplaced tree. This event took place several nights before, when Jake was driving down a dark road and swerved to avoid what turned out to be a dead deer that that was lying in the road. I'm guessing that the deer didn't die there of natural causes, but there was no other car around- except for the car in front of Jake which swerved in the opposite direction- so who knows. We are, by the way, referring to the deer as "an object" when talking about this around the house, to avoid upsetting individuals who shall remain nameless (Sam).

Anyway, Jake swerved to avoid "the object" and he hit a tree - and in the battle of tree versus car, the car didn't stand a chance. So I picked up Jake and his guinea pigs and a couple of days worth of necessities and we headed home.

That afternoon, I cooked the sweet potatoes - since the oven would be tied up with the turkey the following day. And that night, I cooked the pies and set them out on the semi-cold, enclosed back porch to cool.

On Thursday morning, I prepared the turkey. This was the first Thanksgiving in I don't know how long, where I didn't get up before dawn to get it going. I started later this year because Rachael was taking the bus up from the big city and while she was projected to get in a little before noon, I figured the traffic might be heavy and it was possible that it could be substantially later.

On most Thanksgivings I try to aim for eating somewhere around one o’clock - which means that the turkey could possibly be ready anytime between noon and two thirty. This year, I figured I would shoot for two o’clock
.

Every year, I cook a twenty three pound turkey. This seems to be the largest turkey I can fit in my tiny oven without it scraping the sides. And it is also in keeping with my cooking style, which is, if I’m going to cook, then I’m going to cook the maximum amount possible.

So, in the morning, I gave the turkey his final baptism and proceeded to pack him tight with the maximum amount of stuffing possible (see above). Then, I lathered him up and squeezed him into the oven.

Every year, I find myself constantly adjusting the knobs on the oven while the turkey is cooking. I think part of this is a throwback to the years where the meal would have to wait for the kids to get home from the High School football game. I would try to anticipate when the game would be over and as the game dragged on (or not), I would find myself constantly standing at the oven, slightly adjusting the knobs in an effort to either slow the thing down or speed the thing up. I felt like a shortwave radio operator trying to pick up some distant signal.

This year though, I actually managed to leave the thing alone. This was a first for me and it wasn’t easy. I have to say that I’m pretty proud of myself. No guarantees about next time, though.

So, the turkey was cooking and I was getting the five pounds of white potatoes ready when, by some miracle, Rachael actually made it in and the projected time. We went down to the bus station to pick her up and back home again to finish cooking. I checked out the turkey and continued to fight my worst instincts and managed to not adjust the temperature, which meant that we ended up eating more or less when I planned on eating. Another first.

After the meal, Rachael made an apple pie, some of which we ate along with some of others. Later that night, Helaina, Rachael, Jake and I played a board game that Jake had brought home. I'm not sure whether it was the game or my exhaustion, but I couldn't follow the rules, let alone the goals, of this game at all. I felt like everybody else was speaking some kind of language that I didn't understand, which I think is how Sam often feels with a lot of things. (Thankfully, he was in bed at that point. There would have been no way that I would have been able to explain it to him. Then again, I may be underestimating him. He would probably be better at it than I was.) But I made it through the game - losing, by the way - though feeling like a winner for not having fallen asleep.

It was raining on Friday morning, but it didn’t stop us from going to go get our Christmas tree. We did, after all, have a schedule to keep. Like last year, the day after Thanksgiving was going to be the only time before Christmas where all of us would be together, so if we wanted to pick out a tree together and decorate it together, it had to be today.

So we headed down to the tree farm in the pouring rain and bought a tree that was pre-cut and we headed back home with our soaking wet trophy, tied to the roof of the car.

The tree fit in the house just fine, with minimal pruning - just a little clip off of the top as opposed to the usual major surgery at the trunk. But it was so wet that after we strung the lights and plugged them in, they blew a fuse. But a quick run to the hardware store, while everyone else stayed home and kept to the decorating schedule, took care of that problem.

With the tree decorated, it was time for Rachael to pack up, grab some food and head back to the bus station, or in this case, the train station - where she grabbed the eventual train, and headed back to the Big City and I headed back to my Rachael-less home.

Friday night was spent like most all Friday nights, with Sam and I going out to get him something for dinner and then later, eating popcorn and watching Monk together.

On Saturday morning, I drove Jake down meet his girlfriend. His girlfriend was meeting us halfway between her home and ours, which seemed more than reasonable to me, and was better than making the six hour round trip that I had made on Wednesday. So Jake and I left, Jake grabbing a leftover piece of pie on his way out - and we made the hour and a half ride drive together. We found his girlfriend and I dropped him off and then I headed back home, just me and the stray pie crust crumbs; back to my dwindling household, making it back in time to run Saturday errands with Sam.

Helaina was home on Saturday night and we spent it, like usual, watching our TV show together - before collapsing. Well, me anyway.

And on Sunday, I took Sam into town to do some Christmas shopping. More on that later. Maybe. 

For now, that gets us close to being current. And since it’s Friday, I'll be leaving in a minute or two to bring Sam to the grocery store, to pick out something for his dinner. And then later, we will of course, be making popcorn, because tonight is Friday night and every Friday night, at least for one last season of DVD's, is Monk night.

Bowling for Dollars

They had what's called a "Bowl Throwdown" at Sam's school yesterday. This is for a fundraiser for the local food bank. The way it works is that people can come in to the Art Department and either paint a pottery bowl, or "throw" one on the pottery wheel or presumably, both. The bowls are later fired and then there is an event held where admission is charged, and from there - well, I'm not completely clear.

I think you can either go and pick out a bowl as a part of your cost of admission, or you can go and then buy one or more bowls, or... something. I'm not quite sure, but whatever it is, the money raised is donated to the local food bank so, that's all I really need to know. I don't need the details.

The first one of these Bowl Throwdowns was held about three weeks ago, which we went to. There was another one held about two weeks ago, but since it was on a Friday, we couldn't make it. And the last of the three was held yesterday, Saturday, so we were able to make it there again (after our Saturday errands, of course). Unfortunately, we won't be able to go to the event, since that will be during the day on Wednesday.

Here are a few exciting photos, starting with a few weeks ago...

Some of the bowls before getting fired.

And from yesterday...

Some of the same bowls, after getting fired.

Repeat As Necessary

This is the post that I wasn’t going to do anything with. It’s pretty long and rambling and, as an added bonus, there’s no real point to it. And don't look for conclusion. it's not there. But, I'm posing it anyway. There's so many words here, it seems kind of a shame to waste them. So, here you go...

 -----

The other day, I was thinking about how tired I am a lot of the time, and I was wondering why this was. Other than getting up and going to work, and then spending a few waking hours at home before an early bedtime, I don’t really do a whole lot.

I decided to try and keep track of things by making a loose list of the highlights of the week - and it kind of got out of control. Let's start at the beginning...

SUNDAY:
Last Sunday, Sam and I sat down and went through the voting guide that came in the mail earlier in the week. This guide is something that the State sends out and it basically covers the questions that are going to appear on the ballot. There are four ballot questions this year. I went through each one of them with Sam and I did my best to to try to appear impartial and to break down what each one meant and what voting “yes” or “no” would do.

Sam gave me his response for each one of them and he did his best to read my expression every time to see if I agreed or disagreed with him. Sam is a master at this. Any slight twitch of an eyebrow, any blink, any movement at the corners of the mouth - Sam will pick up on it and try to give you the answer he thinks you want. But I think I did well and Sam gave some pretty good responses.

We finished going through the book and I made a few notes. The plan was that we were going to try to make it to early voting later in the week so we could avoid the presumed havoc at the polling place on the following Tuesday.

MONDAY:
Monday night was Halloween, so the plan was to go trick or treating. This decision is driven by Sam, which in turn is driven by the fact that a woman along his route, hands out stuffed animals instead of candy. This woman has been handing out stuffed animals since his brother and sisters were little, and though her mom is no longer with us, she seems to be going strong.

This is right up Sam’s alley. Sam is not much of a candy guy, but he is definitely a stuffed animal guy. I think that he feels that it’s his mission in life to make sure that every stuffed animal in the world has a safe bed to sleep in. The evidence for this can be seen by looking in Sam’s bed.

Anyway, when I got home from work, I got Sam some dinner and then he got into his costume.

The original intention was that Sam was going to be a cowboy, but the toy gun belt didn't fit around him, so we decided to leave that part of the costume at home. Helaina remarked that Sam looked like Indiana Jones, which was true.

Sam finished getting ready and, along with Helaina, we headed out into the cold, growing dusk. The area that we go Trick or Treating in, doesn’t have a lot of street lights and on Monday, there was no moon, so the stars were shining extra bright. When you looked up in the sky and stared long enough, even someone with my poor eyes could make out the Milky Way.

We made our rounds and house by house, Sam collected his candy - most of which he will never eat. We went along until we came to the house where the woman with the stuffed animals lives and fortunately, she was still around. And even more fortunately, she was still giving out stuffed animals. This was all that really mattered.

We finished walking around the block, and headed back to the car. Along the way, Sam hit up the remaining houses while Helaina and I stood at the far end of each driveway. Occasionally, someone would ask Sam what he was supposed to be and he would answer, “Indiana Jones.”

TUESDAY
Tuesday is when Sam works for Bob, sweeping up sawdust in his workshop. Actually, it’s every other Tuesday and this was the every other Tuesday. So like every other Tuesday, I got home from work and grabbed a few things to get ready for his dinner, and then I rushed back out to pick Sam up at Bob’s. And, just like every other Tuesday, I made it there just in time.

Back at home, I made Sam his dinner and sat with him while he ate. Then, being Tuesday, we collected the trash together.

Since it was still barely daylight outside, I asked him if he wanted to go for a walk. Like usual, he said, “Sure!” And when I asked him where he might want to go, he suggested a walk up to the tower.

It had been a couple of weeks since we had last gone to the tower and, with the amount of daylight decreasing more and more as we head deep into autumn, it may be a little while before we’re able to go again - at least during the week. So we drove to the tower’s access road, parked and headed out.

Our walk up to the tower was a little more brisk than usual. The sun was getting low and it left us just a few minutes at the top, before we had to return back to the car to beat the encroaching darkness.

By the time we got home, there was just enough time for each of us to take our showers and get ready for bed.

WEDNESDAY
Wednesday night is the night that Sam has speech, so this week, like most weeks, while he was gone, I went through and paid some of the bills, did the dishes along with a couple of loads of laundry. I also made a list for him to take with him when we went to go vote. I left most of the spaces blank for him to fill in, just to be sure I got it right.

Next, I got ready to send off an email to someone at Sam’s school to get clarification on the field trip that Sam wanted to go on this coming Saturday. This field trip is something that had first come up a couple of weeks earlier and was in some ways getting way more complicated than it needed to be. I won’t get into all of the background because that would be a long post in itself. But it all boiled down to the fact that I needed to know if Sam was indeed registered to go or not, and if I was also registered as well, so that I could chaperone him on the trip.

I know Sam had filled out some kind of form. But it wasn’t clear exactly what it was or if he had turned it into the right people or not. He tried to tell me, but he wasn't sure himself. I also needed to know other minor details, such as where were we leaving from, and what time were we supposed to be there. To try and keep it simple, I wasn't even asking where it was we were going.

When Sam got home, we wrote the email, which went pretty quickly. Then I showed him the ballot list, and we quickly went through the ballot questions again. Sam gave me his answers again, and again, he checked my expressions before, during and after each answer. Apparently I passed the test because his answers were the same as they were the first time. I had him write his answers on the paper and had him put the paper in his wallet.

On Wednesdays, I let Sam stay up an extra half an hour longer. This is because of his time at speech. I figure it gives him a little bit more time to unwind. So like most Wednesday’s, when Sam got back, we each took our showers and then he sat at the computer and watched his cartoons, while I sat on the couch and struggled to stay awake.

THURSDAY

Normally, I get home about a half an hour later on Thursdays than I do on Mondays through Wednesdays. This past Thursday though, I had to meet someone about mid-afternoon. Because of this, I happened to be heading by the house earlier than usual. 

Along the way, I thought it would make a good time to go and vote, so I called Sam and told him that if he was ready, we could shoot over to the town offices together. Since this was unplanned, I had to explain it to him a couple of times, but once he understood, he was good with it. I told him I would be there in a few minutes and to make sure he had his wallet with the paper in it. He said he did, so moments later, I picked him up and we were off to the town offices where we both voted - Sam for the very first time. 

Outside the town offices, I congratulated Sam, shook his hand and took a picture to commemorate the important day, and then I brought him back home and headed off to my meeting.

Afterwards, it was back to home to make dinner, do another load of laundry, and try to stay awake before bedtime.

But, before bedtime, I had to write another email. This, once again, was about the upcoming field trip. The email I had sent last night, resulted in some back and forth emails during the day. The response I was getting was that since Sam is considered an adult and because of Federal privacy laws, they can’t share student information with me. I’m all for privacy, but all I wanted to know was if Sam was registered for their upcoming trip, and if I was registered as well - and if so, where and when were we supposed to leave? It wasn’t like I was asking for his healthcare records. And I still wasn’t even asking where we were going.

So I started yet another email but just then, my phone rang. It was one of his instructors - a different on than the one I had been emailing, so I had a long conversation with her - as always, upstairs, outside of Sam’s earshot. Ultimately, she suggested writing another email, along with Sam, to someone else, asking them the same information, this time cc’ing Sam, so they could answer him instead of me.

I went back downstairs and sat down with Sam and explained the issue to him and we began writing ananother email together. We got about a line or two into it when my phone rang again. It wasn’t a number I recognized and I almost didn’t pick it up - but I did.

The woman on the other end had a thick Hispanic accent and I braced myself for either a sales pitch, a warning about all of those computer viruses I didn’t know that I had, or some scheme to save me all sorts of money that I don’t have in the first place.

As I was about to hang up, I heard her mention something about “Sam.” It turned out that this woman was also from Sam’s school. She was calling to follow up on the field trip. Because she had a thick accent and my hearing is not the greatest, the conversation, like the email exchanges, also lasted a lot longer than it really needed to.

I kept having to ask her to repeat herself - sometimes gleaning slightly more information than I had before. At least I was hoping I was. I would repeat back what I thought she said, often more than once, and sometimes I got it right, but mostly I didn't

She said something about a police station and something about a bus stop across from it. I had no idea what she was talking about. I’ve never seen any police station. I asked her if this was the bus station where Sam gets dropped off for school. And after some more back and forth, it was clear that, no, this wasn’t what she was talking about at all.

She said something about the front of the building and something about the back of the building and when I thought I understood enough of what she talking about, I would ask a question and find out that, while I kind of understood the words, I had no idea where she was referring to.

This went on for a while.

To her credit, the woman kept trying to say it in a way that she hoped that I would understand - trying to enunciate the words a little more clearly (and a littler more loudly - which really wasn’t helping, but I appreciated the effort) until finally I thanked her and pretended everything was clear to me now.

Even if I hadn’t understood everything, I managed to get somewhat straightened out on some of the questions I had. At least I now knew that Sam had already turned in his form. And I kind of knew the time we were to be at his school. And I was pretty sure that we were leaving from some bus stop somewhere at Sam’s school. Plus, she said she would me mail me a form that I needed to fill out. So, this was progress.

I thanked her again for her help, and after hanging up, she emailed me the form - just as she had said she would. The form was a release , so that I wouldn’t sue anybody should the bus crash or if/when I got lost in the museum, etc. I filled out the form and Sam stuck it on the refrigerator and we headed up to bed - which was good because it was now well past both of our bedtimes - and my head was about to explode.

FRIDAY
Every Thursday night when I put Sam to bed, I remind him that tomorrow is Friday, and Sam almost always responds, “And it’s Monk night!” But Friday, is also the day that I call him when I’m on my way home from work, to find out what Sam wants to do about dinner. The choices are usually leftovers, getting something from the grocery store, or, rarely nowadays, fast food.

For the past week, the two of us have been eating some variation of a meal involving leftover meatballs, so leftovers, specifically meatball leftovers, was not something either of us were going to consider. Instead, he decided that going to the grocery the grocery store was the best option and I was more than fine with that.

We went down and got him some chicken strips and potatoes and then we spent a few minutes scoping out the store in anticipation of our usual weekend errands.

Back at home, Sam ate while I got out the popcorn in preparation for our watching “Monk” later on. After dinner, we went over our plans for the following morning and then we both showered and got ready for a night of watching our TV show and eating popcorn together.

SATURDAY
On Saturday, I got up and made breakfast for Sam, just like I usually do every weekend, and just as I had always done for his brother and his sisters. After he ate, we went over our plans for the day, one last time, gathered up our stuff, including the all important form, - and then we made the forty minute drive to his school.

Like usual, I got there a little bit early. In this case, it was because I wasn't really sure where I was going. We drove around a few of the of the parking lots, but I didn't see anything that vaguely looked like it could have been what the woman had been trying to tell me.

Finally we drove around the back of the school, which, as it turns out, is really the front of the school(!)- and all the bits and pieces fell into place. There, on one side of the road, was the police station she had been trying to describe to me. And there, on the other side, was an actual bus stop!

Sam and I parked and we hopped out of the car with our form in hand and we waited for the others to show up. We weren't there too long before the Hispanic woman showed up. She was glad to see Sam - and especially glad to see the form.

Little by little the rest of the group showed up as well until there were maybe about 15 or 20 people in all. One by one, we climbed onto the minibus and headed down to the art museum.

The ride was about an hour and a half or so, from the school. I expected Sam to be more tired than he was but he did fine.

We spent about 3 hours or so at the Museum which is maybe about 40 minutes longer then I think Sam had an interest in. But he did great. He spent a lot of time looking at the paintings and at the ancient objects and reading the little plaques next to the displays, which told a little bit about the history of the piece. 

Sam pointed out this Bart Simpson from the past.

When we were done walking around, we went down the lobby and waited for the rest of the group to show up. It wasn't long before it was time to go. We all loaded up on the bus for the long ride back to Sam's school.

By the time we got back to the school and by the time we got back home, it was late afternoon. Still, Sam and I decided that we had enough time to go to one of the two grocery stores, which make up our weekend errands, so we took off almost as soon as we got back home.

We did a little bit of grocery shopping and Sam bought a couple of slices of pizza to have for his dinner - and then we headed hom, this time for good.

In the two or three hours between dinner and bedtime we spent them as we usually do - Sam on the computer and me on the couch. Then, after bringing Sam up to bed, Helena and I watched our TV show together before we finally headed up to bed as well.

SUNDAY (again)
Which brings us back to Sunday. This time, Sunday was spent raking leaves. Part of Sunday, anyway. For the past week, our front yard had been a mess with the leaves that had fallen from the old maple tree. This particular Maple seems to lose its leaves earlier than other any other tree and our neighborhood. And with the wet weather and because of my not having the time or the energy to do anything about it, the leaves have been laying there, plastered all over our front yard.

So, while the sun was struggling to stay out, I went outside and started raking the front and side yards, until I had a fairly massive pile of leaves. Sam came out and helped me load them into our neighbor's wheelbarrow and then went with me to dump them in the woods at the end of the street.

After a couple of loads, our neighbor came out and suggested that, instead of using the wheelbarrow, we instead rake the leaves onto his tarp - and then drag them to the woods. This sounded semi-reasonable to me, so Sam and I loaded up the tarp and I dragged the first load down into the woods. Sam walked alongside of me.

It was pretty much a struggle because the leaves were still so wet from all of the rain earlier in the week. On the next load, Sam insisted on helping me drag the second massive bundle of leaves.  He said he was concerned and, he "didn't want to hear you panting so hard." I appreciated the thought - and the help.

Together, we dragged the bundle down the street and into the woods. This left only a small wheelbarrow load of leaves to finish it up. Next weekend, if all of the leaves have fallen, we’ll tackle the backyard. Maybe.

After washing up, we decided it would be a good time to head to the second grocery store which we didn't have the time to go to on Saturday. So, off we went, to finish our Saturday errands together - even though it was Sunday. We’re pretty crazy that way.

-----

So, there you have what amounts to a pretty typical week. Some of the details change from one week to the next - things like trick or treating, for example. But, regardless of the events, a lot of my free time is spent in very much the same way.

So why am I tired so often? Who knows. I still can’t figure it out. And I guess, in the end it really doesn’t matter. Some things are just the way they are.

This Means War

I think Stop and Shop has adopted a policy of buying the cheapest possible plastic bags in an effort to get people like me to buy their heavy duty, reusable bags. I wouldn't have as much of a problem with this if they would politely ask me to buy one of those bags - which is not to say I would, but instead, they choose to try and manipulate me.

I could refuse to shop there, but I'm thinking it might be more effective if I go there continually, buy only one item at a time - and triple bag it. They might not get the message, but I think it would make me a lot feel better.

Today's Video Clip

Ok, I think this calls for another Mr. Rogers video...

Today's Brief Comment

Ugh.

A Note About Nothing

I have a blog post that's about 85 percent written. It's about what I did last week. I can't seem to get it up to my usual standard of an 87 percent level of  completeness, so it sits there. It's not that there's anything particularly interesting about it (surprise!), but I think in reading it, I have kind of bored myself.

Sunday Dinner - Epilogue

I am happy to report a successful re-launch of the previous meatball fiasco. Unlike last weekend, Sam and I spent Sunday afternoon making two trays of homemade meatballs, rather than using the frozen, apparently poisonous pre-made variety that they are selling at the grocery store.

We are currently on day 1.25 and so far, there are no ill effects - which is a good thing, since we ended up making a total of eighty meatballs.

Sunday Dinner

After however long it’s been, I still can’t get used to cooking for a smaller crew. Part of this is unconscious, part of it isn’t. I can’t explain the part that’s unconscious, other than to say that it’s either force of habit or wishful thinking - or more likely, some combination of the two.

But for the part that is conscious, I guess my thinking is that if I’m going to go to the trouble to grill/cook/bake something, I might as well cook a ton of it and make it worthwhile.

I think there’s a certain logic to this, though I’m not saying it’s always defensible. It works out great when one of the kids is visiting and I can send them off, fully stocked with food. And it works out well when I can mail them some baked goods that I know won’t spoil. And if neither of those are possible, it gives us a few extra meals during the week - and those are meals that I no longer have to plan for.

Every once in awhile, I'll be left with more food than I can use - even in a week's time. I try to wedge the overflow into my over-stuffed freezer. And there are those rare occasions where it doesn't work out at all.

This past weekend, Sam and I decided to make spaghetti and meatballs - largely because we hadn’t had it in quite a while. But we also happened to have a coupon for some frozen meatballs, so this seemed like a good time to go for it. Normally, we would make our own meatballs, but this was kind of a last minute decision, so we were taking a short cut. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

On Saturday, along with our other groceries, Sam and I picked up the frozen meatballs, and on Sunday, we dumped them into the crock pot, along with some sauce, some garlic that Sam had diced, and then we added some spices.

Later in the day, Sam sliced some mushrooms, which we cooked separately, and then we added them into the sauce mixture. Sunday night, I boiled two pounds of spaghetti and we had spaghetti and meatballs for dinner. It was delicious - for a while.

Later on Sunday night, it hit me - literally. I felt like I was getting a stomach bug. I was getting achy all over, and I was getting this vaguely queasy feeling- the kind where you can’t tell if you’re really feeling that way or not, but you don’t want to think about it too hard because it might make it worse.

Sunday night into Monday, I got maybe a total of four hours of sleep. I kept getting up, and while I wasn’t getting sick, I was in full body cramp mode. As I lay back in bed, I remembered that the last time I felt this bad was several years ago. Back then, I had bought some frozen mini-tacos - again with a coupon, and almost immediately after eating them, I felt pretty much the same as I did right now - maybe even worse. At least at this point, I wasn't breaking out in sweats. I tried to tell myself that I was lucky.

Anyway, I was pretty sure at this point that using those store bought, frozen meatballs had not been a good idea.

Little by little, over the next couple of days, the ill effects began to wear off -for the most part.

Today is trash day, so last night, along with filling our usual bags of trash and garbage, I added several quarts of meatballs and sauce, as well as the unused portion of frozen meatballs that were still in the freezer.

Before leaving for work this morning, I set the trash bags outside for the trash pick-up and I’m hoping that no animals are currently ripping them apart and spreading tainted tomato sauce all over my leaf covered lawn.

I’m not sure if there’s any lesson to be learned from all of this or not. But I’m kind of upset that I have just under two pounds of cold spaghetti sitting in my refrigerator right now, and my meal planning for the week is completely shot.

Today's Brief Comment

This friggin' fly has been driving me crazy all day.

Civics Lesson

I went online with Sam last night and helped him to register to vote. He's come with me before, but this November will be the first time he votes on his own.

The other day, we got a booklet in the mail which has a rundown of the various ballot questions, and I figure that between now and the election, we’ll be going through it together.

There’s also something I like about the idea that Sam’s vote carries exactly the same weight as anybody else's - including any of the candidates.

Of course, that’s true for everyone.

Fruits of Our Labor

Evolution of an apple pancake...

Tonight's Video Clip

I think it must be at least a couple of months since I last posted a Mr. Rogers video.

Maybe I've posted this before.

Maybe.

But it's worth posting again...

Last Weekend

Yes, I know, I’m falling behind on posting. Sorry. 

So, let’s see, what’s been going on...

I suppose I could tell you a little bit about how I’m now working on putting in the storm windows and how it is one of my three least favorite jobs around the house. But it seems to me, that sentence pretty much covers everything I have to say about it.

Instead, let me share a few photos with you, taken last weekend - which somehow seems like it was a month ago.

To begin with, I should mention that it was one of those all too rare times when everyone was home - for part of the weekend, anyway. Jake came home on Friday, Helaina came by on Saturday, as is her routine, and later Saturday, Rachael came in by train from The Big City (I had to check the date on the picture below, just to be sure I have the day correct. It was, after all, close to a week ago.) Sam, of course, was already home.

Sunday was to be our annual “Let’s Go Pick Apples” day. We’ve been doing this for several years now and in the past, we’ve been pretty lucky, weatherwise. I don’t ever remember a day of bad weather. In other words, we were due.

We woke up on Sunday to rainy weather, which then changed to kind of rainy, before eventually changing back to more rainy.

After much indecisiveness, we decided to say the heck with it and go apple picking anyway. I was pretty sure that we would be the only customers there, which would normally be the orchard's busiest weekend, and since we would be the only customers, we would thus be treated like royalty.

Surprisingly, the apple orchard was pretty packed. 

Unfortunately, we weren’t the only ones who thought picking apples in the rain was a great idea. Go figure.

Although we were less focused on things like climbing the apple trees and riding the tractor - and more focused on getting on apple bags crammed full and getting back to the dry house, we had a great time. Plus. we’re now the proud owners of a bushel or two off fresh apples.

Sunday afternoon, Jake headed back and Rachael headed back on Monday. That left the skeleton crew.

So, rather than rattle around the house, on Monday, Sam, Helaina and I went to the train yard, where we watched the trains for a little bit before walking the bike path.

Sam and I had gone to the train yard and discovered this bike path on a rainy day back in June - which I may or may not have written about - but we haven’t made a trip back since. And since this day was turning into a beautiful, bright, fall day, it seemed like a good time to visit once again. That, plus Sam had mentioned going again earlier in the week.

Even though it was a long weekend, with Monday being a holiday and all, it went by awfully quick. Here are a few of the pictures I took of the all too brief festivities.

Enjoy.

I did.

Rachael walking back from The City.

The gang, ever eager to pick apples!

On the hunt.

Remind me again, why are we here?

Amazingly, Sam found the only perfect apple in the entire orchard.

Mission accomplished. Time to head back.

Watching the trains roll in.

Photographic proof that trains still exist.

Down the bike path.

Further down the bike path.

And yes, you guessed it. Still more bike path.

Sam and Helaina on the approach to the iron bridge.

Strawberry fields beyond the trees.

Let me take you down ...

The iron bridge.

Another iron bridge in the distance. On this one, foolish people such as myself, actually drive over it - and pray that we don't fall through it.

A view of the river from the other side of the bridge. The low water level reflects (no pun intended) our lack of rainfall - despite the rain of the day before.

Helaina and Sam along the path.

Heading back.

Sam in the wild.

Empty field leading to the strawberry "patch".

On the way back.

On last shot.