Only we don’t eat turkey over here. Still, we’re grateful. I’m grateful for bacon, cuz that clam chowder I had for dinner last night was so good. My son is grateful for pigs. Live pigs. He has requested that I give up bacon. And his sister has requested that we buy them a Wii or Nintendo DS.

Wouldn’t hold my breath on any of that.

And dear readers, I am grateful for you, for America’s new president, for my new job, that I love so much. It is a cool thing to finally, after years of searching, find the right career. And it was there in the library, in the stacks, right under my nose, this whole time. (I needed to look between Cormier, Robert, and Creech, Sharon. Between DiTerlizzi, Tony, and Draper, Sharon. It just took me awhile to get there.)

I’m grateful for Hockey God, who is the yang to my yin, every day without fail. I’m grateful to my kids, who are funny and kooky and remind me of what’s important. (“We are. Over here. Don’t pay attention to anything else. Give us chocolate.”)

I’m thankful for the Nekkid Neighbors, cuz if it’s wasn’t for their love of gadgets, pots and pans, I wouldn’t be cooking Suzanne’s Crockpot Stuffing right now. (If you haven’t already, go sign up for a Book Club or two.)

I’m thankful for Suzanne, and all my Internet buddies. And I’m especially thankful for all my “real-time” buddies. This year will be better. It has to be. I just know it, that’s why.

Have a great weekend, y’all. We’re going to eat root vegetable soup with greens, stuffing with vegetarian herb gravy, TWO KINDS of cranberry sauce (in honor of my Mom’s family, who can never agree on a damn thing), pumpkin pies and real whipped cream, and brownies.

I wish you and yours all the best.

xxox

wm

My sister, in regards to what she and my brother-in-law are going as for Halloween…

my sis: “I told him I’d go as his ex-girlfriend.”
me, confused: “Which one?”
my sis: “Myself!”

Of course. There was that little break-up. But now they’re happily reunited and she’s going as his ex. And here I was thinking how hard it is to come up with ideas for Halloween.

Me? I may go as a surgeon. I could use my bone-folder for a scalpel, ha HA!

And after I asked him if he was taking a pumpkin to carve for the contest:

“I’m not taking a pumpkin to carve. There are going to be tattoo artists there! No way am I winning any contests against the tattoo artists.”

(Why didn’t I go? I’ve been sick all week. And I brought home two days’ worth of work to finish at home. Because I am dedicated like that.)

(Also, I told all of my students last week that Halloween is next Friday. Because I thought it was. Mean trick! No treats! Whoops. Guess they’ll figure it out if they try to go tricker treatin’ on Oct. 24th.)

Here in North Portland, sometimes I feel as if all we are is a glorified border town for Vancouver, Wash. You cannot buy “the good” fireworks in Oregon… but you can in Washington! So everyone drives over there, loads up, drives back, and on the Fourth, my entire neighborhood looks and sounds like it’s exploding. Yes, it’s illegal, but the cops don’t mind so why should you! Lock up your daughters is all I can say.

(This was not Wacky Dog’s favorite holiday, especially since “the festivities” start in June and end around mid-September.) (Dear departed Wacky Dog, I’m sorry I called you “stupidass,” you weren’t. You just didn’t like the bang and pop, that’s all.)

Also, Vancouver, Wash., as you may or may not know, is home of “the biggest fireworks show west of the Mississippi.” They shoot ’em off from a barge in the middle of the Columbia River.

God Bless the USA. Now let’s get into the habit of not bombing other countries, what say?

Damn. I’m ready to get back to what America originally stood for, which was what, exactly? Something about “your huddled masses yearning to breathe free…”?

We went to our friend’s house last night, and God love him for inviting us because we were right on the Columbia and that close to the best fireworks ever. Also, we went swimming in BOTH of the pools at his condo, and hot-tubbed. And had yummy snacks and ice cream sodas.

He invited us back to swim, anytime, and to watch the Christmas Ship Parade go by.

I hope he adopts us.

I decided to throw myself a small party for my 44th birthday, as I’ve mentioned here 10 or 20 times, and it went okay. You know why? Because instead of doing all the food myself I called out, “Potluck!” and everyone responded.

We had… (more…)

had a lot of food and fun and friends. kids ran around like feral animals. am tiny bit hungover. the outdoors seems really, really… bright.

love,
wm

“Let us celebrate the occasion with wine and sweet words.”
— Plautus

Thanks for the nice comments and e-mails, y’all! Love you!!!!

wm

Marriage has turned out differently than I thought it would. We have too many scares and tears and ER visits, but we also have more flowers than I ever expected, good meals, sitting around together talking, playing dominoes or gardening. I planted herbs and flowers all afternoon yesterday. We sent out for pizza and ice cream, stayed up late watching movies.

But Iowa is on our minds. I never expected, when I first married, that Iowa would become such a big player in our lives, and that I would love my husband’s family this much.

My son is disappointed he’s not there with his grandparents this weekend, in Iowa City, going to the park, playing in the yard, having Pagliai’s Pizza instead of Eddie’s Flat Iron.

“Poppy’s coming here?” he just asked my husband, hopefully.

“No, honey. He’s staying home with the big flood. The road from his house to the airport is closed.”

Cedar Rapids (where we fly in when we visit my in-laws, where my husband’s brother and wife live with their three girls) is a mess. Our family is fine, their neighbors are fine, but whole sections of town — homes, businesses, cars and bridges — are toasted or severely damaged.

My in-laws are stuck on their side of town — no way to get to downtown Iowa City. They have been helping how they can, but how can you stop a river? How can you stop nine rivers?

Steve put up some pictures on his blog — they formed a book brigade to save the books in the main library. I love that library, where my father-in-law worked for many years. I love the campus and the Writers’ Workshop. Kurt Vonnegut and Raymond Carver did, too, along with about a zillion other writers. I love Iowa. The people, the boating, the farmlands and the huge barns. The parks and great schools and my husband’s old high school, City High, where we went for an ice cream social one time when we were back home visiting. Steve teases me when I call Iowa “back home,” but you know, Iowa is not that far from Arkansas, where my mom grew up and all of her extended family still lives. For me, that all is “back home.”

Ice cream socials and huge gardens and my kids, running with their cousins all over the place. Having gin and tonics at cocktail hour, watching the fireflies — that’s home.

We were about two seconds from moving there, but a lack of jobs (and lower wages, if we managed to find jobs) stood in the way. I wish we were with our family right now, but am so relieved that my husband and kids didn’t fly out. (I was staying home to work and wrap up end of school year.)

So, prayers please, and good thoughts and I can’t believe that the next time we go to my husband’s home state to visit, it will be all different. We still don’t know the extent of the damage and won’t for a while.

Here’s to things calming down and an attempt to get back to normal. Whatever that is.

For now, much love and a Happy Father’s Day to my father-in-law, brother-in-law, and of course, my excellent husband.

To all the Ladeees…

Happy, happy, happiest Mother’s Day to you all.

xoxx

wm

Clap, everybody. Clap! OH MY GOD IT’S MY BLOG’S ANNIVERSARY AND I ALMOST FORGOT. Three years! Damn.

Happy birthday, Blog. I do love you so.