A new day

This is too long for any blog. I will do better after I get it out of my system.
November 23, 2005
Kids are great, jamakids are great too.
Being at my kids' house is really interesting. For me it is so great on so many different levels. I feel like a teenager in reverse. I spend a lot of time in my room listening to music with the lights turned off. I don't put my clothes away and I stay up late in the night watching TV. If I had candles I would light them. Who could ask for anything more? When I go out, I get lost and I don't care. I call it exploration. I'm glad my son in law has a cell phone. I can identify landmarks and he doesn't mind guiding me in.

The fact is, it's great to be here. I get to be with GG, except when her dad comes home and takes her away from me! The nerve. I stay out of their hair and come up for air when I need to. They appreciate it I know. Maybe it's our family dynamics, but I don't think so. I've heard enough horror stories about in laws and parent visiting to not be one of them. So, having a room of my own, like Virginia Woolf, is really the way to go. I spend lots of time alone in my room and I love it. I can go in for dips whenever I feel like it and I don't overstay my welcome. By the way, Naarah and I got into our pajamas at 4 in the afternoon and took naps. That's what I am talking about!

It's Thanksgiving tomorrow. I baked pumpkin pie...Jason found me fresh organic pumpkin. I use butter in the crust. My mouth is watering... and I am drooling on my keyboard. Dennis is on his own and has Shammai for the night. I scolded him, he knows Shammai always wants to sleep at his own house. When he is over, at 8 p.m. he looks at you and says, "I want to go to my home." That means I'm tired and want to go to bed. But he really means I want to go to sleep in my own bed. Dennis will have Thanksgiving with his family in Moundsview. Sandy Hanson my dear sister in law is the hostess. Thanks Sandy, you are awesome. (While you're at it, please talk Carol into Christmas again.)

By the way... It's everywhere. The name of my blog is after a surprise sililoquy I heard while dining with a friend. And just a week ago, thousands of miles west of that first shocking encounter, my daughter, Grandaughter GG and I were seated in a restaurant in Redmond and the hostess asked, "What are you up to?" Well dang. If that isn't about as rude as anything I have ever heard. Who is she? Do I know her? It's really no ones business what I am up to unless you are my boss or my conscience. Does she really want to know? I think not. My stories are really not that interesting, but dang these young things are always asking, "What are you up to?" I'm used to that question from long time acquaintances and then I tell them. My kids are grown procreating like rabbits, I'm too young I know... my job is great, normal struggles, got horses I ride, I play golf, am in midlife crisis and bought a German Shepherd.
What is the answer to "What are you up to?" from a stranger? I usually am stymied. I just say, nothing and give a blank stare--the deer in the headlight kind of stare. I can think of no other answer so I say, "not much". Well that is a bold face lie. I am usually up to too much, but surely she doesn't really want me to answer. Who is telling the hostesses to say this? I know some management consultant has come up with it. Well, if you don't really want to know what I am up to, and believe me, most often you don't... stick with "how are you". At least we're used to not answering that one.

One time I should set the hostess down at a table and start in. I actually am taking MBA classes that are almost killing me. Or... I should just come out and say I just robbed the 7-11, so I have enough money for dinner. Or I just shagged the bag boy at the grocery store? Or I just backed into the car behind me denting the *!@# out of it and didn't leave a note. I just ran over my neighbors cat.

Speaking of cats. My cat Kristyl Blue recently died (was killed by my German Shepherd I fear)

I became the caretaker of Kristyl Blue after horse riding lessons when I stopped at a farm to buy sweet corn and the woman came out of the barn holding a kitten. He was my cat. Siamese looking, but a barn cat. I asked if I could have him. She said yes. I took him home and a few months later my cleaning lady (not me) left the door open and Kristyl Blue escaped. He didn't come back. Dennis found him and buried him near the barn. He's with a whole line of loved ones buried on the place. Sandy and Muffin. Captain Preston Ashley is across the street at our old house. Pets. Should I get another cat? That is my dilemna. I've never been without one.

Well, should these entries be this long?
Movies:
So, I watched Spanglish. Disturbing. Who first of all can beleive Adam Sandler in any context. I dislike him as an actor in everything he does. There is no sincerity in his acting.
Saw Prime and loved it.

Reading: Harry Potter. Book #1 Am determined to finish series. First book almost done. Amazing imagery. Great writing. Fun.

Music:
Am listening to Snow patrol... Final Straw. Nice.


Happy Thanksgiving.