The Burrow

They will always be The Boys, though they are now Mr. 17 and  Mr. 19.   They tease the way they did when I was taking them to pre-school - the big brother asserting dominance and the younger one shrugging it off with a smile that lights up the room.... even when the barbs strike close to home.   They eat the way they did when Amster and I took them for breakfast after we finished working out - with good table manners and big appetites.   Tonight the conversation was also about working out and food and friends and school, just as it was all these years, watching them grow from babies to young men, approaching adulthood, right on the cusp.   It was just the four of us; Amster's tummy kept her home.  My heart was full - the boys wanted to come and celebrate even if Mom couldn't join us.  We had memories to share and jokes to retell and questions that went unanswered .  Why didn't Mom put me in baseball? from the kid who begged me ...

I used to celebrate my Birthday Month.  This is just a scaled back version. I haven't cooked except when I wanted toast a bagel.   Snooze  gave me a free birthday pancake Friday morning.  It was covered in vanilla cream, strawberry coulis, strawberry mascarpone, fresh strawberries, and almond streusel.  It was the richest thing I've ever eaten.  I left very little on the plate. We went to Ole  for the 2nd meal of the day in the late afternoon, with a celebratory margarita (the best in Tucson) to mark the occasion.  The toasted bagel came when the after effects of dinner at 4pm took their toll. I vacuumed and sprayed and cleaned and folded in the midst of another cleaning frenzy that fed my soul in a way that walking outside in rainy, cold weather just wasn't going to do.  We watched UofA basketball lose at the buzzer, which had me laughing through my tears ( How did he make that shot?????) before we left for another meal-at-an-odd time w...

We are preparing to have the outside of our house painted.  Wind and sun and heat and time have eroded the stucco and peeled the paint.  It's time. There are all kinds of new products - including Rhino Shield which wanted nearly $50,000 to seal our home with a 25 year warranty against anything looking less than perfect.  In 25 years we'll be midway through our 90's, which makes this a very hopeful purchase. Our previous painting company was purchased by a larger painting company, after extensive review of their personnel and practices.  We liked knowing that the service we valued in the past was appreciated by this new ownership. We also liked the price and the 10 year warranty; celebrating my 81st birthday doesn't seem that far fetched.   There is a lengthy list of instructions, including RELAX, midway down the page.  Today, though, I did not relax,  Instead, I did what I could to comply with the requirement that all vegetation must be 2' away fr...

I understand that there may be issues with the trial down the road.  But delaying tactics will be no surprise when it comes to holding TFG legally responsible, so, really, what's the big deal. Watching Emily Kohrs, the foreperson (and how I loved seeing that scrolling across my screen) of the Atlanta grand jury investigating election meddling, made me smile.  It made me laugh out loud.   This 30 year old woman didn't vote in 2016 nor in 2020, yet she waxed eloquent on the virtues of participation in the government.  It's the only way it works. Out of the mouths of babes.

Here, once again, is my somewhat annual rant about President's Day.  I didn't realize it was President's Day until Little Cuter told me she was staying home to celebrate with FlapJilly, whose school was closed.  Here in Arizona, we have Rodeo Weekend this Thursday and Friday so schools remained open.  It may have been a Legal Holiday, but my trash was picked up right on schedule. I'm not the only sentient being who is struck by the strangeness of it all.  NPR told me that February 22nd had been a Federal Holiday from 1879 all the way through until 1968 when Congress standardized almost  all the Federal Holidays and George ended up with the 3rd Monday in February.... which will always be before his actual date of birth... and, as long as I'm ranting, will always be after Abe's on the 12th. I'm all for celebrating your Birthday Month, but that's just plain ridiculous.   Here's the rest of the rant, reprinted and slightly edited. ********************* M...

Friday night, TBG and I went to church with friends.  We spent an hour or so listening to Cornell professor Annette Richards perform on this splendid, delicious, marvelous organ  http://www.stalbansaz.org/ Saturday night I heard a local blues band outdoors at Club Congress  before walking across the street to dine, al fresco, with friends.  SIR and Little Cuter and the kids spent Sunday at the Field Museum.   jpetersenphotography.com And today, Monday, The Kibbitzer and The Doula and I went to the movies.  Masked, inside, in a large and nearly empty theatre, and, for my friends, their first going-out-to-the-movies-since-Pandemica experience.   Lunch outside at Flora's Market Run  was an extra added bonus, just like seeing an old friend stroll by and stop for a brief Hello.   It's really quite wonderful to use what's around us.  Little Cuter and I agreed - it's the good kind of exhausted. (Sorry this is late.... I forgot to...

It came over me all at once.  Every where I looked, there were manageable tasks just waiting to be tackeld.  My nightshirt was comfortable, my Kizik 's made me feel as if I were floating on air; I got to work. I sorted out my closet, after coming to the shocking realization that I will never again be a size 6.  There are Banana Republic and Ralph Lauren and Carlisle Trunk Show black wool slacks that come no where close to zipping, let alone snapping.   Plus, they have belt loops.  I've already consigned my belts to the Give Away box; I see no reason to deal with anything more complicated than an elastic waist.  I hung the trousers beneath dry cleaning plastic bags as they started their journey to one of the many clothing banks around town.   There are two more "areas of interest" in the closet, but they required more thinking than I was willing to expend at the moment.  They can wait.  They don't detract from the work that's done. I...

I liked her until I didn't like her.  I trusted her until I didn't.  She's the only person I ever told I just cannot be your friend.  We shared activities with our children, even a road trip.  She was good company, always up for an adventure.  Still, I didn't really trust her.  I was always on guard.  Years and miles separated us.  I was curious about her, but nothing more.  The long ago wounds never lost their sting. Not very long ago, she fell ill.  Yesterday, she died. I feel nothing.   I'm sad for her children, for her ex-husband, for those who loved her.  For me, there's no emotional component connected to her at all.   Her death is just another reminder that we are getting old and that this is happening more and more frequently.  I'm getting used to the emotions that accompany these announcements; I'm noticing their absence right now. Remembering when my parents' friends began to die, I didn't laugh wh...

It's been cloudy all day.  It was raining when I woke up, and it's continued, intermittently, all day long.  It's not monsoon rain, interesting clouds making raucous noises as the lightning streaks and amazes.  Nope, it's just a low, grey blob, no real shape at all, as far as the eye can see. Occasionally, there's a patch of blue which lures us outside .... to freeze.  It's 42 degrees out there.  Running into the grocery store for a loaf of bread without taking my scarf (at least) and my jacket (the one with sleeves) was a big mistake.   The clerk gathering stray carts and I shared a look of utter dismay.  Like Miss Clavell in the middle of the night, I thought something is not right. Last week I contemplated turning on the pool heater; today, I'm wearing heavy sweatpants and a flannel shirt.  I was going to bbq dinner; instead, I'm contemplating making a pot roast. The Doula and The Kibbitzer are arriving for an annual hiking and biking two ...

Once again, Grandma Suzi brought Valentines to the middle school. Some of the scholars wrote copious words of love and encouragement.   Some didn't want to commit to sitting down. Some decorated their faces. Some just wanted me to take their picture. Once they realized the photos were going in The Burrow, these scholars were happy to smile for the camera. The young men took the project quite seriously. Some of the cards were silly. Some were kept private. With the help of Google Search the flag of Tanzania appeared. Cutting out a perfect heart took several tries. Once the doily's place in my Valentines history was established, the oldest girls went all in. There was kibbitzing.  There was posing. But mostly there was love. I've been doing this for a dozen years.  Every year is filled with hugs from tweens who look nothing like the kindergarteners I met years ago.  Do you remember me?  What's my name?  I'm terrible with names and faces... especially fac...

slightly updated from 2018.     Hearts are everywhere, and not only today. There's the heart Yogi Mary found in nature.  There's the heart the Mesa Mavens drew for me at the first Stroll and Roll. There's the heart that bereft parents look at and cry. And there's the one I send to you, denizens, filled with everything wonderful and beautiful. https://tinyurl.com/y73dvqqd Happy Happy Valentines Day to the people who make my fingers fly over the keyboard every day.  Thanks for being here, for commenting, for reading, for caring. Without your presence, there would be no Burrow.  

The game was fun.  Lots of scoring, some special moments, and because I didn't care about the outcome I was happy at the end.  Not-Kathy and Dr K watched withh us.  Little Cuter's Chicken Chili was a big hit.  I got to use the some of the serving platters that rarely see the top of a coffee table any more.  My apple pie was a big hit.  I had fun preparing, listening to another episode of Rachel Maddow's Bag Man  podcast.   TBG and I made quick work of the clean up and put-away.    In all, a successful Super Bowl Sunday. ***** The fans made me nuts with their booing Dak Prescott as he won the Walter Payton Man of the Year award and their chop-chop tomahawk chant.  The Fox production staff made some egregious errors, like giving the sign language performer 5 seconds of screen time while focusing the camera on whoever was singing whatever the song was.  We could hear her voice; we couldn't see the young performer's version at all....

I'm going to celebrate America's unofficial national holiday on Sunday.... although  I won't be putting out the flag.   Dr K and Not-Kathy will join us for the game... and as much of the pre-game as Dr K can stomach.  We used to go to big Super Bowl parties.  There were snacks and beers and chili and not a man in the kitchen or tending to a child..... unless the child were watching the game from his lap. When I cared about the game, I found a space on a couch.  For the most part, though, the friends were more fun than the televised entertainment..... except for the commercials. So, I'll make Little Cuter's Chicken Chili with White Beans, and put out crudites on the football paper plates I bought a gazillion years ago and never remember to take out.  Not-Kathy will have Woodridge Reserve and I'll have prosecco and the boys will splurge on Diet Coke and ice tea. We're a rowdy crew. Unless something amazing happens during the game, this will be my last fo...

Maybe it was the setting.  As he pointed out, he's spent more time there than anyone in the audience.  It showed.  He owned the room from the moment he walked in. And speaking of walking in, I was fascinated by the man and woman who were ushering him down the aisle.  They kept themselves out of the frame on the way out, but coming in their facial expressions were as amusing as were those of the legislators trying to get their 5 seconds of face time with The Prez.   He did look presidential, didn't he?  Yesterday, I worried that he'd be tired.  That proved to be time unwisely wasted; Joe was engaging and personal and feisty.   Little Cuter and I saw him from 15 feet away, at the Commissioning of the USS Gabrielle Giffords.  He was shaking hands with everyone waiting in line for a tour of the ship.  He wore a baseball cap and his aviator sunglasses and he was having a very good time, totally ignoring the golf cart carrying his pa...

Aaron Sorkin writes some memorable State of the Union scenes.  Jon Favreau, of Obama speech writing fame, is eloquent about the process on his podcasts.  Hearing that the verbiage of the State of The Union address was being changed to reflect the Chinese balloon situation, I flashed to AJ giving Lewis oxygen as he rewrote  The American President 's SOTU.   What's missing from Sorkin's rosy picture of pre-Trump America is dismissive criticism before the thing is delivered.  I'd prefer to live in his world than ours. He's lost before he's begun. Republicans have been screeching and Democrats have taken the bait and responded and Joe Biden hasn't even entered The House, let alone made a pronouncement or two.  They are making hay over Arkansas Governor Sarah Huckabee Sanders, of Trumpian Press Secretary fame, who will deliver their rebuttal.  I'll be interested in their plan to balance the budget without touching the pieces of the social safety net th...

Thanks to JannyLou's generosity, GRIN  went to the dollar store and bought garden supplies. Trowels and hand rakes with colorful handles (who knew that teal would be the most requested one?) were put to very good use this morning in Grandma's Garden. There are weeds of all sizes and descriptions.  Some look surprisingly like the flowers we planted in the raised beds.  But since the definition of a weed is the wrong plant in the wrong place  I decided they were all weeds and needed to be removed. I had to retrieve the wheelbarrow from the pusher-rider combo.  We needed it to collect the detritus. It was, for the most part, a group activity.  But when we moved over to the lettuce bed, one scholar kept digging. We planted a variety of lettuces and other greens, and they are all available for munching.  The arugula is about as bitter as the kids can stand, but they are mostly game to try them all.  Some taste like mustard, some like horseradish, and s...

 We took Amster's knee for a walk today.  She's far enough post-surgery to feel confident walking up one hill and down another. The knee wrap is only to keep the scar from being sunburned.   We took our repaired body parts for a 3.6 mile jaunt at Sabino Canyon, part of the Coronado National Forest.  The parking lot was full, but there's overflow parking at the school across the street.  Adding another quarter mile before the trailhead was an issue for neither of us.   It is a beautiful road. The views are like this all the way up; we walked until just before the first bridge ... because there was a beach.  Across the 3' of sand, the rocky outcropping (I've always wanted to type that)  was a perfect place  to take a picture It was a lovely day to share.

Apparently, the answer is yes.  The good news is, she saved the best for last. Do you have characters you've followed through the years?  Men and women you met in early adulthood, who aged along with you, and who are now retiring?  Characters whose lives touched yours in some places and were pure fiction in others but who always seemed like old friends when a new book came out. And now there will be no more.  This is the final Peter Decker/Rina Lazarus novel, according to the dedication that hit me between the eyes in a most surprising fashion.   Faye Kellerman has been writing the series since 1986.  She and I were young mothers at the same time and now, in 2023, 29 books later, our kids are all settled.  Her inner thoughts quite often mirror mine.  I get their marital verbal shorthand.  I'd like to be their friend, and not only for her cooking.   So when The Hunt  appeared on the Your Lucky Day  shelves in the libra...

Little Cuter deleted the on-going email thread(s) I created as I was trying to book the tickets.   I opened the computer to type to you and found my screen covered with open tabs, all bearing the American Airlines red and blue logo.  There were so many of them, each a window into frustration. I really didn't want to deal with the situation, and yet I did. I found a text message from Little Cuter - tickets and seats had been received, confirmed, checked and re-checked.  Everything looks good was her conclusion, along with a lovely few sentences thanking me for doing that which I had asked not to do. My kid was stressed and I took over.  So what else is new? That's the thing about mother love.  No matter how onerous, distasteful, or annoying a task, if the kid needs it done, needs it taken off her plate so she can focus on that which is more important (kids, job, personal sanity), a mom steps up. I'm so glad I raised a child who understands and appreciates th...

There was a kerfuffle with the credit card, because the tickets were booked while I was logged in to my American Airlines account but I paid for the tickets with an American Airlines credit card TBG applied for on a previous flight (to be rewarded with two more flights) and which we use to eat out and travel.   The computer had a hard time reconciling the difference in the information in their little boxes.   It took a while to get that far.  The first person who called me back (I like those leave your name and we'll call you back  queues) said It's a credit card issue and I can't help you with that.  You have to go to the company.  I hung up. Raised from birth to recognize nonsense, I called back and left my name once again.  This message was a little more discouraging; call you back between 1 hour 28 minutes and 11 hours.   It didn't really matter.  The weight on my shoulders was heavy already; another load was barely noticeable....