This truly sounds like, just possibly, the worst movie ever.

Has anyone seen it? If you’re interested, you can buy a used copy for one dollah.

And yes, that’s Ron Weasley playing his friend, Alan A. Allen.

Thanks, Little Miss Honeybutt, for sending me this one. (She knew I needed it.)

xo

wm

i owe you a lot, dear readers. cuz you keep coming back, even though I’m rarely updating, and when i do, it’s YouTube or something you’ve probably already heard before.

my apologies. this move, losing my (current) job (“unassigned does not mean laid off!” etc.), getting the kids, my husband and myself settled, trying to deal gracefully with (gulp) menopause… argh, “changes,” make that… it’s been a little much.

ordinarily, i write notes on my hands (and arms, iffen i run out of room on my hands) when i can’t remember stuff. my students think this is “hilarious” and offer to be my “secretaries.” (ie — write on my body for me.) thing is, they want to use indelible Sharpies. No, no, nopey, no, no.

Lately, though, I have been running so wild and ragged that i haven’t even been scribbling notes on my body. What does that mean? Time to settle down, man. Make some lists, make some changes.

I’m working through/reading/making a project out of two books: “The Clutter Diet” and “The Happiness Project.” Really liking both books, and both styles. i have two “motivational partners” to e with and talk stuff over. Goal-setting, etc. Also, i’m back to working out every day (or at least doing a weigh-in and some stretches). today, por ejemplo, I burned many calories on the Wii-Fit and all the yoga i did worked those g.d. cricks right out of my neck.

ahhhhhhhh! bliss. ahhhhhhhhhhh! just sayin’.

and today, I wrote on my hand again. it sez:

590
3 blocks

which translates to:

tape hockey (Pens v. Canadiens, game 6 of the series, in Montreal, home of the Canadiens, obviously ;), Channel 590, program 3 blocks cuz they might go into overtime…

hey, it’s not much. but it’s a start.

have a great week, yins. GO PENS!

— wm

i regret to inform you this morning that the great, sexy, sassy singer Ms. Lena Horne has passed.

Friday Night Lights is back, season 4, and i’m so happy.

happy mother’s day to all you mamas out there. hope you have a spectacular weekend.

— wm

“this next one… is the first song… on our new album, which just came out this week! it’s called surrender.” — robin zander

did you know that the first concert i ever saw was Cheap Trick opening for Kiss? that was in Portland. i was 12. my mom let me do whatever i wanted. that was good by me, because i had a lot of friends and a lot of plans.

steve’s first concert was Cheap Trick in Iowa City, when he was 14.

steve: “Doesn’t Rick Nielsen look like Barney Fife here?” (yes.)

no wonder we get along so good, it’s kismet. kissmet!

“When I woke up, Mom and Dad were rolling on the couch
Rolling numbers, rock and rolling, got my Kiss records out”

our kids can relate to the whole “mommy’s alright/daddy’s alright/they just seem a little weird” part.

“When others asked the truth of me, I was convinced it was not the truth they wanted, but an illusion they could bear to live with.” — Anais Nin, writer (1903-1977)

I finally took a break from unpacking boxes (of books, clothes, candles, candleholders, files for the office, files for work, art supplies, more books…) and took a peek out in the yard. Even though it’s been raining (some) it was parched out there. That’s the way it goes in Oregon, in the spring. You think everything’s getting a good drink, then you realize that some of the plants are below the eves, under the trees, or just need more of a drink than they were getting.

I found the shovel, some gardening gloves and…….. planted. We divided plants at the old place before we moved (half of the stuff was so overcrowded it wasn’t blooming anymore). My mom gave me some plants, and I had a bunch of stuff potted already that i just brought with me. My girlfriend J gave me a strawberry planter box, as a housewarming gift, so nice! So we ended up with quite a few plants that need to go… somewhere. I already planted columbine, peonies and Hockey God bought me a hanging basket. The yard is (tentatively, creeping along) starting to feel like mine. We have several blueberry bushes, and two Granny Smith apple trees (yay!) and… bees! My mom bought my son a Mason bee house for his birthday.

He and his dad hung it up on the shed, and within 24 hours the bees had found it. We noticed today that they started making their little dirt mounds in there, for extra protection? It’s cool. We need to help save the bees, y’all, they’re having a rough go of it. That is no good.

Mason bees, by the by, do not sting, says Wacky Boy and his grandma.

Today I planted…

1) a snowball bush
2) Japanese iris
3) more iris
4) my daughter’s birthday asters (they are fantastic — purple and glorious and quadruple their territory every year)
5) and…. what else? black fancy grass
6) a small rosebush
7) some sedum (the former owners left us those) and………

wow. a little tiny tree frog went flying out of the grass and down by the shed, in between my planting the asters and the black fancy grass.

i don’t know what to do with frogs, being a City Girl. so i yelled for Wacky Boy and Hockey God, and they played with him (let him crawl all over my son’s hand and arm — sticky little feet, really adorable), took some pictures and waited for Wacky Girl to get home from walking her friend home, so she could see him. “Ahhhhhh!”

Last week my son spotted two garter snakes. Today it was:

“Snakes eat frogs!”

“Yeah, that’s the way the world goes ’round, son.”

We didn’t have ribbity frogs, tree frogs, deer, snakes, any kinds of critters like that at our old place, although i once saw 2 raccoons and once i saw a rat.

okay, and a little mouse one time, running under the fence. I have those frogs that one lone frog in the tank, but that’s different.

i like it out here.

what kinds of critters do you have in your part of the world?

— wm

Seriously frickin’ grouchy. I lost my uterus, I sold my house, i moved into a new house, I got unassigned at my job, which means I might (or might not!) lose my job, I lost my beloved, crazy granny, all in the last 12 months. That is too much for a 12-month span of time. Stupid grief, menopause, inflexibility, old habits, and my need to have total control over everything, argh.

I forgot it was late opening and we woke up an hour and a half earlier than we needed to. No, that doesn’t mean that I managed to work out. I did do laundry, though. (thanks Ms. Honeybutt for getting my kid to school, since I had to start work before his school day started.)

Also, I lost the DVDs that were due back at the library. (I know, I know, the irony of a librarian misplacing her library materials is not lost on me. It can happen to the best and the worst of us, folks.) (They’re renewed. For now.)

I’ve lost all kinds of little, medium and big things in the move. We have different voicemail now and I can’t figure out how to work it. (I figured it out! “Press 3, message deleted!” OK, one small triumph.)

Jesus.

It’s five o’clock somewhere, right? In Idaho? It’s 5 o’clock in Idaho. I’m pouring a glass of wine, see you in the moonlight.

— wm

Edited at 9:04 p.m. to say, Thanks, y’all. Thanks, cuz those comments cheered me up and made me laugh so hard that now…

…this is me!