Here, dear readers — My day in real time.

Sort of.

5, 6, 7 & 8 a.m.: Sleeping. Ahhhhhhhhhhh. Large Wacky Cat 2, the stripedy one, pins me in on one side; muscular husband pins me in on the other. Why does the Cat want to sleep with us? It’s so flippin’ hot. Unable to move. Sex? No. Have to sleep. Can’t open eyes. Consider a new lifestyle that involves not staying up so late at night. Hmmm. What time did we go to bed? Vaguely remember 11 o’clock news. Keep eyes closed. Sleep. (more…)

So stuck-up, doing a “greatest hits” of my Thursday Thirteens. (But when has being stuck-up ever stopped me?) We stayed up too late last night. Mojitos were involved. The Pink-Haired Housewife and the Barkeep were over. And I’m too lazy to try to track down all my old faves from everyone else’s blogs, so here we go…

I haven’t been with Thursday Thirteen since the beginning, and I didn’t know I was supposed to number by the week I was on. So that’s why I’m even-steven with 100, when really it’s only been 49. (I deleted one accidentally.)

I read a TON of the Thirteeners, but some of my favorites (and I have many) are Mallory, Vader’s Mom, Jenny McB, Zoot, Gabrielle, DK Raymer. And my husband, More Hockey Less War, natch. Sorry if I left your blog off the list. Again, mojitos fog over here. But I do read a bunch of you every week, even though I’m bad about leaving comments, sometimes.

(Drive-bys, I call those.)

Here are some of the Thursday Thirteens I’ve written that y’all seemed to like, and that are favorites of mine, too.

1. My 13 Superpowers

2. 13 Things I Did as a Kid

3. 13 Stupid Things People Have Said to Me Since My Dog Died

4. 13 Funny Stories About My Dog (cuz you have to take the sweet along with the bitter. Ha ha.)

5. 13 Reasons Portland is Lousy

6. 13 Reasons Why You Should Not Go On American Idol

7. 13 Things My Husband and I Disagree On

8. Thirteen Things Bosses Have Said to Me

9. 13 Things My Grandma Likes to Say Over and Over

10. 13 Reasons Why I ROCK, plus a Q&A with myself

11. 13 Reasons Why YOU ROCK!

12. 13 Things I Do to Fuck with My Cantankerous Neighbor

13. My favorite post I’ve ever written. Ever. Thirteen Ways to Get It Up!

Happy Thursday, everyone! Happy 100!

It’s only the third of July, but damned if the Wacky Family will be deterred from lighting off fireworks early. I DO NOT HAVE A DOG IS WHY. Poor dog. I miss my dog — every time I walk by the huge fern in the back yard I expect to see him come slithering out. (It was cool and dank under there — nice and chilly on a hot dog’s belly.) But he is gone. I loved that crazy dog. And by crazy, I mean “teched.”

BUT NOW WE DON’T NEED SEDATIVES. So I bought the hugest box I could find at Target (the legal Oregon ones, not the illegal Washington ones, thanks) and Wacky Boy picked out his favorite. It has a big stick.

Because that’s what it’s all about in this life, and my son has figured that out — Who has the biggest stick?

We jammed it in the lawn, lit it, and KABLOOIE! Right away it starts acting like an illegal Washington firework (where they have the good ones. Same as the reservation fireworks. None of this wussy crap. The good ones. Like in Missouri!). It spits sparks and fireballs all over.

“That could catch our lawn on fire,” I say.

“Yep,” my children’s father says.

“It is catching on lawn on fire. I’ll get the hose.”

“Yep,” my children’s father repeats.

The kids just now, on their way to bed: “Wasn’t that so cooooool how dad caught the lawn on fire???”

Happy Fourth, y’all. Here’s to our continued American independence, and our need to thrust our independent ways down everyone else’s throats.

Happy Fourth, Scooter Libby, ya bozo. Whew! Close one.

Reviewed today:

You don’t know. You do not know from love until you’ve read “The Velveteen Rabbit” for the very first time with your five- and seven-year-old, and the Older One is grumbling, “This is stupid” and the Younger One is grousing, “That’s not what I wanted to read” and you almost set the book aside and then you get to the Skin Horse. And he only smiles and says…

“The Boy’s Uncle made me Real,” he said. “That was a great many years ago; but once you are Real you can’t become Unreal again. It lasts for always.”

And you’re only going to read a few pages, but you read the whole thing. And the illustrations are so beautiful, and by the end… the Older One is sighing and tells you, “That was a good book” and the younger one says, “Yeah.” You don’t know from love, until that happens.

Also, you don’t know from love until your husband reads the entire Babysitters’ Club series (all 8,000 of them) with the kids and also the entire Magic Treehouse series (all 8,003 of them) and you don’t have to.

Love. Just love and more love.

Goodnight.

WM

Have y’all been having trouble sending me e-mails? Because I deleted my e-mail address from my “About” page and completely spaced out on it for six months or so? It’s back on there. If you want to send me hott sex tips. Or recipes. Or what-not.

Happy Sunday, babes!

Love,

WM

From my mother-in-law…

Spice Mix

This spice mix is nice with fish.

* Cumin
* Oregano
* Mint
* Chiles
* Black pepper

Or, if you’re in more of a beans and rice mood…

Creole Beans & Rice
Serve with cornbread, sour cream or plain yogurt.

3 cups dried kidney, black or pinto beans
1/2 teaspoon cayenne
1/8 teaspoon allspice

for salsa:

3 green onions, diced
1 cuke, diced
2 tomatoes, diced
3/4 cup fresh parsley
1/4 cup vegetable oil
3 1/2 tablespoons cider vinegar
salt to taste
hot sauce

Saute vegetables:
3 tablespoons vegetable oil
2 small onions, chopped
7 garlic cloves, pressed
3 celery stalks, diced
1 cup carrots, diced
2 or 3 green peppers, chopped
1/3 cup tomato paste
1/4 cup red wine
1 teaspoon apple cider vinegar
1 1/2 teaspoon brown sugar
2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
1 1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
1/2 teaspoon cayenne
1/4 teaspoon ground allspice

2 1/2 cups uncooked brown rice

* sour cream

* cornbread, butter & honey

1. Cook the beans with the cayenne and allspice.

2. Combine the salsa ingredients; set aside.

3. Saute the onions and garlic in oil on medium heat until onions are translucent. Add the celery and carrots; cook several minutes longer, stirring occasionally.

Add the green pepper and saute vegetables are tender. Whisk together the tomato paste, wine and vinegar, brown sugar, mustard, herbs and spices. Add to sauteed vegetables. In a large pot, combine the (mostly) drained beans and vegetables; stir together. Simmer covered for 30 minutes.

4. Cook the rice.

5. Serve with a scoop or two of rice, topped with the beans, topped with salsa.

Bon appetit!

WM

I’m glad the sky is painted blue,
and the earth is painted green,
with such a lot of nice fresh air
all sandwiched in between.

(anon.)

Well, well, well. When there are no kids at my house, it is extremely quiet. Also I got a little lonely. But not too lonely! Hockey God took me to Sal’s for dinner (salmon for me, veggie lasagna for him). We’ve been going to Pause non-stop, and why? Because Pause kicks ass. We love Pause. But Sal’s is alright, too. Then we drove over to Vancouver, Wash., to see “Knocked Up,” the new film by the “Forty Year Old Virgin” Guy.

(That’s how I refer to him, cuz I can never remember his name. FYOVG.)

(His real name is Judd Apatow.)

Hockey God thought it needed a major re-write. I thought it was funny as hell. We were both right.

WE SLEPT IN. We had tamales, potatoes and fresh fruit salad for breakfast, and a pot of coffee. We got the kids from mom’s (they had a great time, of course), stopped by the library, went out for lunch, now Hockey God’s off to his game. They may win, they may lose, they may push the other players down. It’s hockey, it’s hard to say.

Perfect day today. Perfect weekend.

That’s right. The kids are staying at Grandma’s house tonight. Little does she know about their latest habit — staying up until midnight, freaking each other out and screaming about monsters. “They’re in the bathroom! Behind the door.” “No, they’re not! Yes, they are!!!”

I think we’ll stay home, just for the sheer joy of not having anyone walk in on us.

While we’re watching Jeopardy!

Dang, what were you thinking?

What’s your top fave dream date? The sky’s the limit. Just tell me.

Hockey God, my husband, just posted about Vicki Phillips leaving town.

As always, insightful.

And I’m not just saying that cuz I sleep with him.

My Grandma is an interesting chick. She’s funny and loud, a great cook, a good friend and listener. I’ve been meaning for years now (since I was in college) to help her jot down some memories. She doesn’t type, use a computer or take shorthand. I do occasionally write, so there you have it.

She turns 87 next Tuesday (it’s my mom’s birthday, too! Happy birthday, Mom!) so Internet, tell my Grandma and Mom happy birthday, would you? And now, for a 13:

13. Grandparents, parents (and uh, me) tend to sometimes tell you the same story over and over and over. Have you noticed this? Not if you’re really listening they don’t. I started asking questions and off we went…

12. I started out by asking her if it was okay if I wrote some things down for my kids, so they can remember her. Maybe a few anecdotes, a little bit of a family tree. Then we added recipes. My grandma and I love recipes. (See here, here and here for a few favorites.)

11. Next thing I know, she’s telling me about the time she and my grandfather ran off to the Memphis Zoo in the middle of the night.

10. Then she’s pouring her heart out, talking about my grandpa, and my dad (my Grandma loved my dad and stood by him when he was so sick), and we’re talking about all this, and about all the places she loved to go camping when her kids were little kids. To her, it seems like that was yesterday. My kids are little kids right now and some days? It feels like it will last forever. But I know it won’t. (I am looking forward to them growing up and dreading it, too.) Time goes so fast. You know that, but you don’t really know it until you’re almost 90, I guess. I made a list of all of her favorite getaways and am including that in the book.

9. The book? Yes. We’re turning it into a book. We can print it through Cafe Press. (PS — Shameless Commerce Plug — You know I sell Wacky Mommy gear at Cafe Press, yes? Go buy some!!!) I am so psyched about this book. She can sell it to her buddies at church, to her family back home, to the neighbors, to her own kids (ha, ha). Funny, eh? She wants to donate the proceeds to Meals on Wheels. (Thank you, Meals on Wheels, for visiting my Grandma five days a week.) I already have I don’t even know how many pages typed up. Twenty or so? I’m shooting for something around one hundred pages. Mebbe one twenty five. And I’ve typed up a bunch of recipes.

8. Including this one. It’s perfect for Fourth of July:

SHOYU CHICKEN
2 lbs. chicken
¼ cup oil
¼ cup soy sauce
¼ cup brown sugar
Garlic (1 clove)
½ tsp. grated ginger

Mix. Marinate. Bake at 350 degrees 1 hour or barbeque, turning twice. Sauce can be thickened with cornstarch.

7. Which reminds me. I need to get her potato salad recipe. And the recipe for the salad she makes with butter lettuce and milk dressing.

6. I’ve found out all kinds of stuff about our family, the Depression, World War II, her life. For instance, her brother was a bootlegger. And she and my Grandpa used to own a store, back home in Arkansas.

5. My mom is psyched, too — she has a family tree she’s going to send me, so we can include that in the front. It goes back to 1730!! Geez, who knew? That’s on my Grandpa’s side. And my Grandma’s side goes back to her grandparents, around the 1860s? My mom is going to keep researching.

4. It has made us closer, talking. I’ve been trying to call her at least every other day, and interviewing her for an hour or so at a time. Sometimes it’s a little much for her, tripping down memory lane. It can be a little intense.

3. But her mind is so clear and her memories are so strong. I’m grateful for this.

2. It means a lot to my mom.

1. My cousin and I are planning to add a memories section to the back, with our favorite stories about her. And we’re going to put a section of “Grandma-isms” in there, too. Fun!! Happy Thursday, everyone!

“The great thing about getting older is that you don’t lose all the other ages you’ve been.”
— Madeleine L’Engle, writer (1918- )

The Wacky Nekkid Mini-Neighbor was over this afternoon. The treats (chocolate rice krispy bars, Annie’s cheddar crackers, Annie’s graham bunnies, raspberry juice) were good, so she stayed.

Then she and Wacky Boy got married.

The bride was splendiferous in an Iowa City City High High School red, black and white cheerleader’s dress. The groom was quite dashing in a pair of froggy swim trunks. He wore flip-flops; the bride was barefoot. The ceremony was held in the backyard of the bridegroom’s parents. No ice sculpture, but there was a water feature (the wading pool).

Wacky Boy’s sister officiated. She wore an orange cotton summer dress with a certain flair.

“OK, here are your rings.” She handed them both a mood ring.

“Now, you walk down here,” she directed. “Now you stand here. Now you are pronounced husband and wife.”

The newlyweds began to giggle.

“Now… hold hands!” They held hands. They smiled for the non-existent cameras. I clapped.

Then, this being 2007, and being a practical girl, the Mini-Neighbor made a request.

“I want to be married to someone else.”

“OK,” Wacky Girl says. “You have to not like each other first, then you get divorced.”