Our Leaders

I don't know if the bail out is good or bad but it seems like our government needs to do something to help our country get out of this precarious economic situation.

Wouldn't you know it, our leaders screwed things up. The Republicans got mad at Nancy Pelosi for being political right before the vote so they voted against it. Perhaps Ms. Pelosi's comments were ill-timed but sometimes you have to put your hurt feelings aside for the bigger good. Especially when it means keeping your country out of a depression. Do they think helping us slide into a financial abyss will teach Nancy Pelosi a lesson???

President Bush (their leader, a Republican president) asked them to vote for the bail out and because they were mad at the speaker of the house, they changed their minds. They put their emotions ahead of what is best for our country. Don't they know that us regular people face things like this everyday? Sometimes at work or with our families we don't necessarily agree with the way things are going but we do things because IT'S THE RIGHT THING TO DO. We swallow our pride, roll up our sleeves and work on the situation at hand.

So I hope we all learned something from this. Next time, ignore the speaker and make the vote you're supposed to make. Afterwards when the country isn't falling apart and your constituents aren't standing in the unemployment line, you can make faces at Ms. Pelosi behind her back or you can put laxative in her coffee, but for now my friends, let's focus on the big picture.

A Cautionary Tale

We sold our house last month and we’re house hunting. You’d think it would be easy. There are many houses on the market.

We thought we found one this week. It was in the right neighborhood and had the right floor plan. But there was a catch. As we are learning, there's always a catch.

The house suffered from severe neglect. From the outside it looked fine but when we opened the door we were hit with the distinct odor of too many dogs and not enough cleaning products. The carpet was a mess - red stain, blue stain, one stain, two stain. Black stain, brown stain, all around the town stain.

None of the smaller bedrooms had closet doors, and not a single interior door latched. The master bathroom was a mess. Couldn’t even open the shower door EEWWWWWWWWWWW.

I dared not enter the hall bathroom. I just knew it would be like walking into the unisex bathroom of a Texaco station in the middle of the desert where water is scarce and Lysol is scarcer.

The kitchen had old formica counters and dark wood cabinets. I could have lived with the cabinets but at least one drawer face was missing. The range was circa 1980 with a microwave connected to it at the top. This particular microwave included a large burn mark where this family had burned Dinty Moore stew or whatever it is people like this eat. Next to the range was a smaller microwave on the counter which led me to believe the built-in didn’t work.

The ceiling in the kitchen included an unfinished lighting project. No cover on the fluorescent bulbs which didn't really matter, since half the bulbs were missing anyway.

The backyard was another testament to the sensibilities of the residents. No landscaping to speak of unless you like dried out weeds and dirt. I suppose it could be called natural and might even work if it were in one of the tony desert enclaves in Cave Creek or Carefree, Arizona. But out there, the dried grasses and dirt also include some well placed cactus and desert flowers -- at least a Palo Verde tree.

The pool was okay. A diving pool minus the diving board. The kool deck had gashes, holes and substantial cracks.

Oh and did I mention that this gem is around the corner from a house facing imminent foreclosure and another place that's been on the market for nearly 3 years?

So, there you have it. You're wondering why we even looked at it? Well, we can see past the grime and the dirt and the stains and the aged dog poo. I could even imagine a day when the odor turned from stale dog urine to spicy potpourri or cranberry candles. So what is this leading to? We offered $94,000 less than the asking price. We knew we were taking a big chance but the repairs to make it livable totalled a conservative $58,000. And we thought the sellers might realize that few people will make it past the odoriferous foyer.

We also factored in our time and the fact that we had just spent about $10,000 fixing up our house. We settled for $50,000 less than our original asking price and we were happy to get it. And I'm proud to report that no one entered our house unless we had vacuumed, spritzed and polished it to a shiny palace.

So, why am I telling you this? I'm not sure, mostly I just want to complain about the idiotic sellers. We have run across this more than once. Sellers who are insulted by our painstakingly researched offers. In one case the house we wanted went to auction 2 weeks after they refused our offer. The auction reaped $45,000 less than our offer. So because of someone's arrogance, the bank took an additional $45,000 hit on an already losing proposition.

So good luck to all of you out there. I hope you are having better luck finding your dream house. We know that if we are patient, our perfect casa is out there waiting for us. In the meantime, I'll keep you posted.

Whatever Happened to "See Spot Run"

My car is an extension of my purse. There is stuff everywhere. Magazines, gym clothes, empty water bottles, various cds, stuff for Goodwill, Barbies, books and fast food wrappers. Messy yet harmless.

It's common for Leah to read whatever she finds in the backseat. One time there was a People magazine. I was proud of her for reading a magazine that's published at a 7th grade level -- she can figure out most of the words. Pretty good for a 2nd grader. All was fine until she asked me about the pregnant man. I think I screamed. "Hand it to me, I don't think you should read that." "But why is a man preg-a-nant?" she asked. Usually I am pretty non-judgmental but this time I said "He's a freak, Leah, it's not right." Dang. How am I supposed to explain this when I don't get it? After that, I monitored where I threw my People magazines.

I love vintage aprons. My friend Didi gave me this one a few weeks ago. This also ended up in the back seat. I forgot it was there until last Friday on the way to school when I heard a little voice say, "one jigger gin (pronounced with a hard g), one egg, one teesp powed sugar, mix, strain, pour over ice fill with selt-a-zer." Huh? She continued "Bronx Cocktail, one third dry gin (again pronounced with a hard g)." When it dawned on me she was reading the apron, which could only enhance her reading skills, I corrected her "It's gin, honey." She continued "1/3 ver-MOUTH." "Vermooth," I said. "1/3 orange juice, ice, shake, strain."

My vintage apron includes recipes for various cocktails from the 1950's. Leah read all of them. Apple Blossom, Planters Punch and "mommy, oooo, Martini."

At some point, this knowledge might come in handy. Or it may result in her teacher calling Child Protective Services.

You Say It's Your Birthday

Happy birthday to you, mom.

Eighty four years old today.

There is much to admire about my mom. She is smart and curious and the heart of our family. She is the best baker I know. She can whip up yummy French bread, wonderful chocolate chip cookies and these light buttery rolls that we call "birds". She loves the Oregon Ducks and the Seattle Mariners.

But most of all she loves Leah.

My parents were born to be grandparents. They were 77 when my daughter was born but they jumped right in. My mom took over when we got the news about Leah's arrival. I was in a daze but she pushed me to find a crib, a changing table and all the right accessories. When we almost lost Leah, she turned to her faith and put our fate in God's hands. I was numb but she didn't give up. When everything turned out okay, she did not seem surprised.

I'm not sure if it's true of all mom's in their eighties, but I've noticed that with her, my stock has risen over the years. For whatever reason, my mom thinks I am very wise. She thinks I know everything about everything. She thinks I can find anything and fix everything. She also thinks I'm a gourmet cook (I'm not) and I'm quite positive she thinks I'm in charge at work (believe me, I'm not.)

I live 1,200 miles away from her and every year she sends me her handwritten Christmas letter so that I can edit it, print it on Christmas paper and ship it all back to her. Every year I delete the introductory paragraph detailing their various ailments and I substitute a few cheerful sentences about their current travels (casinos and drives to the coast) and family news.

I miss her everyday and wish we lived closer.

Happy birthday mom.

Pure Poetry

I haven't had time to write this week. Just too much going on. My sweet little girl appears to be the real writer in the family anyway. At the risk of being too cute, I thought I'd share a few poems that my daughter wrote. She wrote these while we were packing up our house and moving to the apartment. She was tired of helping me and decided to write in her journal instead.

What Should I Eat?
Pickles, raspberries, pears and peas
What should I eat?
I look and look and say
Pickles, raspberries, pears and peas
That's what I'll eat.

My Mother's Love
My mother's love could never break
If I did something bad, she would be mad but always love me.
If I did something good, she would be happy and still love me.

My Dad's Love
My dad's love is great.
Nothing could come between us.
Our love is unconditional love
That means nothing can stop it.
It is permanent love.

Our Move
We were very busy and we still are busy
I don't like moving
It is hard
So I say "so long house
I'll miss you"
I hate to say good bye.

Equal Time

Okay. Sarah Palin's husband is pretty darn cute too. He's no Joe Biden but he's a hottie.

Her politics are too conservative for me, but I found her quite charming. It's going to be an exciting race.

Did you notice that all the candidates' spouses are attractive ... although Cindy McCain could use a makeover. How old is she anyway? She needs a fun haircut and some younger clothes. What was that green monstrosity she had on tonight? And what is with that hair color?

Labor Day Weekend

This was the most laborious weekend ever. Please be patient and look for new blogs in a day or two. Big things are happening in my life and I can't wait to share them.
Ciao.