You'll Crack Your Head Open!

The Little Filly starts first grade tomorrow.  She’ll be at school ALL. DAY. LONG.  I don’t know whether to collapse in exhaustion or cry.

My baby is growing up.  From now on, most of what happens during the active parts of her weekdays will be a mystery to me.  She’ll tell me about the exciting parts, I’m sure.  That’s the best thing about having a chatterbox for a child.  But soon, I’m sure she’ll be more interested in talking to her friends than to me.  Just like she grew so quickly from a newborn to a little girl, she’ll grow from a little girl to an adolescent.

And then I’ll really be up a creek.

I never understood my mom’s penchant for women’s magazines and crafts.  I totally get it now.  After putting so much energy into a child, you can’t just sit there anymore.  You need something to DO.  Give me something to DO.

Even though I’ve always liked DOING crafts, I’ve never liked OWNING crafts.  I love the process.  I love the accomplishment.  I don’t like fussy, froo-froo stuff in my house.

I’ve discovered by reading crafting and decorating blogs that my big mistake is doing crafts that I don’t actually want to own or use.  I would start a craft because it was cute in the magazine or in the store.  Not because I wanted to own it or use it.  I really loved making jewelry for a while there.  I was into the whole beading thing in the early 90’s.  I even taught myself how to use seed beads to make almost fabric-like panels.  It was a lot of fun.  But there was one problem.

I don’t like wearing jewelry.

Don’t get me wrong.  I love jewelry store jewelry. (Hint, hint Hubby.)  I even like a lot of the crafty jewelry I’m seeing on the blogs nowadays.  But having a different beaded necklace and dangly earrings to match every outfit?  I’d rather choke.

Sigh…

So I ended up with a box full of stuff I never wore and it ended up collecting dust.  Eventually I gave the whole thing to goodwill.

I had other crafts I did over the years, but they all ended up the same way.  In a box.  In a closet.  Eventually on their way to join everything else at goodwill.

I decided that crafts were a huge waste of money and time.  I spent all that time doing something, not use it because I didn’t really love the craft, and then finally giving it away.  BAH!  And humbug too.

But, since my little girl is now beginning her own life, I’ve been revisiting the idea of getting crafty again.  I’ve actually been thinking about it for quite a while.  But every time I went to the local craft store, just looking at the prices made me queasy.  As much as I liked doing it, there was no way I would be able to make myself waste that kind of money on something I’d never use and end up eventually giving away in disgust.

If you’re crafty at all, you can see where I’m going wrong.

I’ve learned a lot from reading crafty blogs.  The biggest thing is to make only the things that you actually want to own and/or use and/or look at every day.

Ohh…..  I get it now.

Yea, I’m quick like that.

Hubby showed me a few pictures that he took inside the particle accelerator building as they were going to the subfloor tornado-hiding section.

What do you think particle accelerator scientist-type people wear?  Suits?  White lab coats?  Maybe a hazmat suit with the snazzy plastic hood and breathing thingy?

Nope.

T-Shirt.  Beige shorts.  Ankle socks.  Running shoes.

Hmm.  I totally thought it would be the white lab coats.

THEY’RE MADE OUT OF MEAT

by Terry Bisson

“They’re made out of meat.”

“Meat?”

“Meat. They’re made out of meat.”

“Meat?”

“There’s no doubt about it. We picked up several from different parts of the planet, took them aboard our recon vessels, and probed them all the way through. They’re completely meat.”

“That’s impossible. What about the radio signals? The messages to the stars?”

“They use the radio waves to talk, but the signals don’t come from them. The signals come from machines.”

“So who made the machines? That’s who we want to contact.”

“They made the machines. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Meat made the machines.”

“That’s ridiculous. How can meat make a machine? You’re asking me to believe in sentient meat.”

“I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. These creatures are the only sentient race in that sector and they’re made out of meat.”

“Maybe they’re like the orfolei. You know, a carbon-based intelligence that goes through a meat stage.”

“Nope. They’re born meat and they die meat. We studied them for several of their life spans, which didn’t take long. Do you have any idea what’s the life span of meat?”

“Spare me. Okay, maybe they’re only part meat. You know, like the weddilei. A meat head with an electron plasma brain inside.”

“Nope. We thought of that, since they do have meat heads, like the weddilei. But I told you, we probed them. They’re meat all the way through.”

“No brain?”

“Oh, there’s a brain all right. It’s just that the brain is made out of meat! That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

“So … what does the thinking?”

“You’re not understanding, are you? You’re refusing to deal with what I’m telling you. The brain does the thinking. The meat.”

“Thinking meat! You’re asking me to believe in thinking meat!”

“Yes, thinking meat! Conscious meat! Loving meat. Dreaming meat. The meat is the whole deal! Are you beginning to get the picture or do I have to start all over?”

“Omigod. You’re serious then. They’re made out of meat.”

“Thank you. Finally. Yes. They are indeed made out of meat. And they’ve been trying to get in touch with us for almost a hundred of their years.”

“Omigod. So what does this meat have in mind?”

“First it wants to talk to us. Then I imagine it wants to explore the Universe, contact other sentiences, swap ideas and information. The usual.”

“We’re supposed to talk to meat.”

“That’s the idea. That’s the message they’re sending out by radio. ‘Hello. Anyone out there. Anybody home.’ That sort of thing.”

“They actually do talk, then. They use words, ideas, concepts?”
“Oh, yes. Except they do it with meat.”

“I thought you just told me they used radio.”

“They do, but what do you think is on the radio? Meat sounds. You know how when you slap or flap meat, it makes a noise? They talk by flapping their meat at each other. They can even sing by squirting air through their meat.”

“Omigod. Singing meat. This is altogether too much. So what do you advise?”

“Officially or unofficially?”

“Both.”

“Officially, we are required to contact, welcome and log in any and all sentient races or multibeings in this quadrant of the Universe, without prejudice, fear or favor. Unofficially, I advise that we erase the records and forget the whole thing.”

“I was hoping you would say that.”

“It seems harsh, but there is a limit. Do we really want to make contact with meat?”

“I agree one hundred percent. What’s there to say? ‘Hello, meat. How’s it going?’ But will this work? How many planets are we dealing with here?”

“Just one. They can travel to other planets in special meat containers, but they can’t live on them. And being meat, they can only travel through C space. Which limits them to the speed of light and makes the possibility of their ever making contact pretty slim. Infinitesimal, in fact.”

“So we just pretend there’s no one home in the Universe.”

“That’s it.”

“Cruel. But you said it yourself, who wants to meet meat? And the ones who have been aboard our vessels, the ones you probed? You’re sure they won’t remember?”

“They’ll be considered crackpots if they do. We went into their heads and smoothed out their meat so that we’re just a dream to them.”

“A dream to meat! How strangely appropriate, that we should be meat’s dream.”

“And we marked the entire sector unoccupied.”

“Good. Agreed, officially and unofficially. Case closed. Any others? Anyone interesting on that side of the galaxy?”

“Yes, a rather shy but sweet hydrogen core cluster intelligence in a class nine star in G445 zone. Was in contact two galactic rotations ago, wants to be friendly again.”

“They always come around.”

“And why not? Imagine how unbearably, how unutterably cold the Universe would be if one were all alone …”

the end

Hubby (calls from an ordinary IT business trip to Chicago):  So what did you do today?  How are the kids?

Me:  Fine.  We just sat around.  The kids swam for a little bit.  How was your day?

Hubby:  Well we had a tornado warning here, but that’s okay because we were at a particle accelerator and they had an underground area we could go to.

Me:  <crickets> Uh yea.  Me too.  I was at a particle accelerator too.  <rolls eyes>

Hubby:  No seriously.  R knows a guy who works at the particle accelerator here.  He told us to stop by and he’d give us a tour.  So I got to see a particle accelerator.

Me (wearing science dork hat):  I can’t believe you went to a particle accelerator without me.  So. Jealous.

We got home at around 7 last night.  I jumped straight into the shower and stayed there for over half an hour.

Hubby had to fly to Chicago for a business trip today.  His flight left this morning at 7am, so he had to leave the house by 5am.  I hope the poor stewardesses can wake him up when the flight lands.  His coworkers there told him that they would take him to a REAL Italian Restaurant while he’s there.  One that doesn’t have the word Garden or Factory in the name.

We had a lot of fun on our camping trip.  We had deer IN our campground.  Apparently our dog isn’t much of a watch dog.  Heck, he’s not even a notice dog.

One night, as we were sitting around the campfire, we looked over near where our dog Gizmo was and there was a DEER standing there about six feet away from where our 120 pound yellow lab was dozing.   When we pointed at the deer (’Oh my gosh!  There’s a deer right there.”), Gizmo just stood up and looked at us like What?  Do I have something on my face?.  When he realized that we weren’t pointing at him and looked behind him, he jumped and started chasing the deer.  The deer didn’t move at first.  It seemed to be pretty well aware that it wasn’t dealing with an honor roll Huntin’ Dawg.

We gave Gizmo such a hard time about the deer sneaking up on him that night.  He was so embarassed.  He moped all night.  The next day every time one of the gajillion chipmunks or a squirrel ran across the campsite he was on high alert.  Trying to redeem his Doggy worth.  Poor dog.

For any GF people who happen to be reading, the Holiday Grocery store in Chester, CA, near Lake Almanor, has gluten free stuff.  It’s not it’s own section, but there are a few things included with everything else.  I didn’t have time to go up and down every aisle, but I saw a few things.  They had Pamela’s cookies, Pamela’s brownie mix and Van’s Wheat Free frozen waffles.  They also had a couple of the premade breads, but I can’t remember which.  Food for Life I think.  I did go down the pasta aisle to see if they had GF pasta and they didn’t.  I was so excited to be able to get the waffles.  I didn’t premake pancakes or anything and the other families had pancakes a couple times.

We spent most of our time at the lake.  Most of the people in Hubby’s family waterski or wakeboard.  I’m happy to just sit on the beach watching the kids play in the water.  I’ve got a bad back that can barely deal with sleeping on an air mattress for six nights when combined with prescription ibuprofen.  Trying to learn how to wakeboard is probably a very bad idea.  If I can get hubby to buy a big snazzy star trailer RV with a nice thick mattress and fluffy pillows I might think about giving it a try again.

Some of Hubby and FIL’s friends from work (they work at the same office) came up just for the weekend.  Friday night Andrei, who is from Belarus I believe, showed hubby a Russian drinking tradition.  They eat pickles with vodka like we do limes with tequila.  At some point after the second shot, Hubby and Andrei also decided they each needed to defend the honor of their countries by drinking large amounts of the hooch and pickle combo.  Hubby was drinking for his ancestors in Germany and Andrei was drinking for Russia.   They both ended up praying to the trees by the time it was all over.

One of their other friends brought his big teloscope.  We got to see Jupiter and five of it’s moons.  So cool.

The premade chili I made was a big hit.  One of the people we camped with is a foodie and he loved it.  Yay me!  Now all I have to do is remember what I did.  When it comes to chili I just throw everything together and dump in spices until it tastes like Chili.  Very scientific.

The Little Filly and my son went innertubing, which is when they pull a big huge inflatable thing behind the boat like they’re pulling a waterski.  My 13yo nephew and his friend went with them so they could help them.  When my daughter went she did great.  She didn’t like the water spray in her eyes, but she was on there for a long time.   We could see her waving from shore.

My son loved it and was telling them to go faster until he decided he didn’t need to hold on anymore.  He let go and because he’s so skinny he caught air and went flying.  My nephew let go as soon as my son took off and was right there with him two seconds after he hit the water.  Apparently by the time the boat came back around a few seconds later my son had climbed on top of my nephew and was wrapped around his head like a cat, screaming bloody murder.   My son was done with the boat after that.

Even though I didn’t do any wakeboarding or innertubing, I did go on a boat ride with my in-laws and one of our friends in the middle of the afternoon.  It turns out that on Lake Almanor in the middle of the afternoon the wind kicks up so bad for a few hours that it’s like being in the middle of the ocean.  Not like huge waves or anything, but very, very bumpy.  Every once in a while it even lifts you off your seat.  My BIL got caught in it on his JetSki the weekend before we came up and was hating life by the time he got back.  He said he couldn’t even sit down on it and had to stand up to ride over everything and just keep going or he was going to get knocked over.  And Lake Almanor is pretty big.  I’d say it’s about a fifth of the size of Lake Tahoe.  Much bigger than any of the little lakes we usually camp at.

Anyway, back to my boat ride.  My FIL tricked me into let me drive the boat for a while in the middle of the oceany wavy mess.  He just told me which mountain to aim it toward and how to cross the waves.  So now I’ve driven a boat.

We had smores on Saturday night.  I think the person who ate the most smores was Andrei.  Which was surprising considering Friday night’s pickles and vodka incident.  My kids aren’t much for sticky sweetness.  My daughter ate around the edges of one and my son took one bite.  That’s okay.  More for momma.

We’ve been camping for a few days now and things are going well.  The food situation is working out fine.  We’ve got our own table a little bit away from the rest of the group, so our food is completely away from everyone else.

We spent the day at the lake Tuesday and we’re doing the same today.  We went and did some hiking yesterday.  Well, everyone else did.  Turned out the dog wasn’t allowed to go on the trails so the dog and I sat in the car.  We were parked where I could see the view and I just sat and read my book.  Hubby felt bad, but it was awesome.  Mommy got her quiet time.

I was going to post some pictures, but the connection is slow.  We’re on dialup via Hubby’s cell phone on the beach.   Hubby and my FIL had to dial in to work anyway.  So I get to be online for a bit.

Yep.  I totally married into the right family.

We ended up not leaving to go camping today.  There were some campsite issues that the people who are already up there were trying to figure out, so we decided to wait until tomorrow.  So the good news is that we only need enough food for seven days rather than eight.

The bad news is that the weather is going to be in the mid 70s to the low 80s rather than the mid 80s, with lows in the mid to high 40s.  Brrrr……..

Other than that I think I’m good.  I’ve got books and magazines to read.  I’ve got a wordsearch book.  I’ve got enough precooked food that I’m not going to have to worry about not eating because I don’t want to cook.

Hubby is looking forward to cooking the rest of what needs to be cooked while we’re there.  Which is good because I am about done with all the cooking.

Well, that’s it for me until we get back.  I’m sure I’ll have plenty of stories to tell.  Have a good week everybody.

We are just about ready to go gluten free camping for eight days.  I’ve been in the kitchen precooking just about everything I can for lunches and breakfasts.  Tomorrow I’ll be starting the bread baking.  I might make hamburger buns, or I might just go buy some.  The only one who cares about the hamburger buns is hubby.  And I’m sure his parents will part with a normal gluteny hamburger bun or two for him.

Other than that, I’m done.

I’ve premade chili, meatloaf, taco meat, bacon, sausage and breakfast potatoes.  I’ve bought cookies and scones.  I found ginger snaps to use in place of graham crackers.  I also scored in one store with some Kinnikinnick stuff – premade brownies and cinnamon rolls (YUM!) as well as some of their cinnamon sugar donuts.   We’ve got pretzels, crackers and enough stuff from Frito Lay alone to survive for two days.  I also have a few backup cans of Dinty Moore Beef Stew, which is gluten free.  All this stuff doesn’t include the fresh food we’re going to get before we leave.  Tri-tip, chicken, hamburgers, hot dogs, and all sorts of veggies and fruits.  Oh yea, and the candy stash.  Don’t worry.  I’ll share.

Yep.  I think we’ll be fine.

Now I need to figure out some stuff for the kids to do when they’re bored.  We’re bringing some games.  I might see if I can find some outdoor crafts.  I was a Girl Scout through 6th grade.  I seem to vaguely remember crafts and activities.  Not enough to remember anything specifically though.

Normally we aren’t a crafty family.  At all.  You see, doing crafts requires sitting.   My kids are more the swinging from the chandeliers types.

Thus, the blog name.

The Little Filly still doesn’t color.  She says it’s SOOOO BOOOOORRRRRRIIIIIIIINNNNNGGGGGG…..!!!!!!  In kindergarten, when she had a page she had to color, she’d do a scribble of one or two colors in the middle.  Done!  My son (who is still nicknameless) doesn’t like sit down activities any more than his sister does.

But, after days (DAYS!) on end of nothing but playing in the dirt, the water and the woods, I’m pretty sure that there will be some sort of desperate boredom that will hit out of nowhere.  Unless I’m prepared for it, it could get really ugly really quickly.

And because although I have a nice time camping, It’s definitely not my joy.  By the time they’re bored, I’m definitely going to be bored.

I’m also worried about the sleeping.  It’s not so much the tent thing.  Because I usually sleep surprisingly well when we camp.  It’s the location where we’re camping that’s worrying me.  It’s up in the mountains and it’s supposed to be FREEZING up there.  Okay.  Not freezing, but highs in the mid 80s and lows in the upper 40s.  WAY too cold for a sane person to be sleeping in a tent on an air mattress.  The kids and I have a lot of layers of warm clothes to sleep in, so it should be fine.  But there’s no way to tell until you’re in the middle of it, ya know?

If I don’t get enough sleep I’m a bear.  Even with central heat and air, cable TV and high speed internet.  So I’m praying that sleep will be good.  As long as sleep is good, everything else should be fine.

My kids are big now.  Well not big, but 6 and 4.  They don’t need me for every little thing anymore.  They pick out their own clothes.  Half the time when they fall they don’t even need a kiss.

What am I supposed to do now?

Growing up, the only thing I ever wanted to be was a Mommy.  I never wanted to be a flight attendant, a fashion designer or a vet like so many of my friends did.  I wanted to be a mom.

I have no backup plan.

We had always planned on having four kids, maybe even five.  But I had health problems right after my 4yo was born.  Then we had money problems.

Now my kids are off doing things on their own.  My daughter will be in first grade in a few weeks.  She’ll be gone all day.  My son will be starting preschool sometime this year too.  I’m going to be here all by myself.

Don’t get me wrong.  I’ve been looking forward to not having kids hanging all over me.  A LOT.  I was an only child and I enjoy my quiet time.  My kids are also VERY LOUD.  My daughter especially.  She’s got a LOUD, BOOMING VOICE and likes to be TWO INCHES FROM YOUR HEAD when she TALKS TO YOU.  She’s also a happy little CHATTERBOX.  So I’ve had varying degrees of a HEADACHE FOR THE LAST SIX YEARS.  (Are you enjoying that I’m bringing you into my world with ALL THE YELLING? Oh.  Okay.  SORRY.  hehe..)

My son yells too, but it’s mostly just so he can be HEARD OVER HIS SISTER.  (sorry…)  He’s also been very competitive with her lately.  He wants to be faster, bigger, stronger and louder than she is.  Lord help me.

But still…  They’re doing more and more without me.  And I can see the day coming when they’re both in school all day.  It’s right around the corner and I’m starting to panic a little.

I’ve never understood why the five year age gap between kids is so common.  I’ve met a lot of people who have five years between themselves and another sibling, or have kids who are five years apart.  Now I get it.  It’s the Where’s My Baby gap.  The starting preschool gap.  The getting dressed and blowing their nose by themselves gap.

I still don’t know if we’re going to have another baby or not.  There are as many reasons to say yes as there are to say no.

Sometimes I wonder if it’s not so much a baby craving as it is not knowing what to do next.   I guess a lot of it has to do with the fact that I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.  So I thought that the title for this post was a good name for it.  It’s not empty nest syndrome.  My kids aren’t going off to college, but they’re stepping away from me a bit.  My nest isn’t empty, but there’s a lot of extra room that I don’t know what to do with.   The question is how do I fill it?

Any advice or stories from the same boat out there in blog land?

This is the coolest thing ever.  And it’s at the DMV.  Go figure.

If you go to the California DMV website (not sure about any of the other states) and select your local office, over on the left they have the actual wait time for your office.

In the interest of bloggy security and stealthiness, I’m not linking to my local office to show you what I’m talking about, but I’m choosing the first town name on the alphabetical list.  Which is Alturas.  Hmm… Apparently this system isn’t available in all of the offices.   Sorry Alturas.  But you can go with the rest of us to check out the next town on the list, which is Arleta.

If you go to the Arleta office site, on the left it tells you the Current Customer Wait time for Appointment and Non-Appointment customers.  Underneath that, it even shows the current wait times for other nearby offices.

How totally cool is that?

I found this nifty setup yesterday when I had to go to the DMV.  I decided to go to the DMV site for some reason and there it was.  If you’re anything like me you may be wondering how exactly they figure out how long the wait is.  I was wondering if they had some sort of sensor system on the floor where you stood in line or the doors had sensors that showed how many people came in and how many people left.  Cuz I’m a nerd curious like that.

It turns out that when you walk in to the DMV now, there’s a line where you talk to a person and tell them what you’re there for.  They print out a little computerized ticket and point you over to a waiting area where you sit down.  In chairs!  I know!   Then a computerized voice announces the ticket number and which window they want you to go to.  You give the ticket to the person at that window and they log it in.  TADA!  Wait time calculated.

DMV Awesomeness!!!  Who’da ever guessed they’d be the ones to get techy?

For more awesome Works for Me Wednesday Tips, go see Shannon at Rocks in My Dryer.