Traditions Fit Me to a Tea

I know I've mentioned that I'm blessed with many good friends. My blessings include the KKC (Kitty Kat Club -- we don't really remember how we came up with the name.) Every Christmas we have high tea at the Phoenician and it is one of my favorite days of the year.

The KKC was formed about 18 years ago (we think!) and our current membership counts four -- all original founding members (Kathy, Karen, Jill and me). Our bylaws do not permit expanding the membership. Our mission is to eat, dish, drink and laugh.

High Tea at the Phoenician is fabulous. We settle into our first class table with a spectacular view looking south at the Valley of the Sun. I order Delicate Orange Spice tea "a spicy cinnamon aroma is balanced by the sweet orange flavor, creating an inspired cup". Oh my, I was most inspired after my first sip of this holiday beverage. Then Natalie (who claimed to remember us from previous years) brought the first of many glasses of champagne... more inspiration.

First course is a selection of tea sandwiches. See photo. My personal favorite is egg salad which sounds very pedestrian but when it's on tiny circular bread placed on fine china, surrounded by other delicate sandwiches it becomes anything but common. Other sandwiches include English cucumber, hickory smoked salmon, Phoenician's lemon and thyme chicken salad, crisp asparagus and galic herb mousse and pepper crusted beef. Mmmmmm.

Did I mention that in between champage, tea and mini sandwiches we exchange gifts? Oh, that is the main event. At the end of each holiday tea we pick names for the next year's gift exchange. We have forgotten what the dollar limit is and we concentrate on quality and making the right choice. We also buy a "small" gift for each other person. The small gifts are usually identical. The KKC delights in reminding me that I was the last member to participate in the small gift exchange. This tradition morphed over time and it wasn't until year 9 or so that I caught on to this added pleasure. But I must say that a few of my small gifts have surpassed expectation thereby erasing my slow start.

Back to food.

Apres tea sandwiches, Natalie serves the buttermilk and cranberry scones. Best part of the scones??? Lemon curd! I love that stuff. At this point, I am sure we are going to see Mary Poppins clip by as it is all very British. Now we have opened nearly all of our gifts. So we focus on champagne and celebrity gossip.

After scones there is more bubbly, more tea and then the beautiful mini-desserts. This year I was too full from the two previous courses and, uncharactersitically, the Phoenician offered us doggie bags for our desserts. Pleasant surprise. Dessert include a fruit tart, maple cheesecakes, chocolate dipped strawberries, holiday eclair, brulee tart and chocolate cherry petit gateau.

Dessert is followed by a silver tray stacked with steaming cylinders of white linen napkins. An elegant and indulgent way to conclude the day.

We slowly gather our loot and make our way to the valet stand. There is always an obligatory stop at the Christmas tree for our group photo.

Then it's to the car and back down the hill to real life. Heading to 68th Street and back across the Salt River on Mill Avenue. With twinkle lights surrounding us through downtown Tempe, we continue dishing on husbands, kids and celebrities. Speaking of... Karen believes she saw Whoopi Goldberg getting on the evelvator at the Phoenician.

Stay tuned for posts about our lovely gifts.

There's No Place Like Home for the Holidays

Guess what we did this afternoon?

P.S. She's convinced she's getting a Yorkie from Santa. Help me ... how do we handle this one?

Santa, We Need Your Help

This is Leah's Christmas list.

Drama Girl

Leah has to have some simple outpatient surgery to repair a microscopic "hole" in her ear. She is very nervous, which I fully understand but she told Lynn she either wants the surgery to be at Phoenix Children's Hospital or St. Jude's.

Out of My Gourd with Frugality

In this year of cutbacks and trying to stay on a budget, I have spent most of my weekends avoiding retail establishments. I made an exception Saturday and ventured to some lovely boutiques in Mesa. First stop, Rustic Hutch which usually annoys me, but as I am desperate to shop, I happily visited and found one perfect Xmas present and several stocking stuffers. Next, the Orange Patch which is probably my favorite store in the greater Phoenix area. It did not disappoint.

Yuletide splendor was everywhere and the entire store was 15% off. There were at least 5 different themed Christmas trees with my favorite having everything sweet and magical about the season. Ornaments that looked good enough to eat with marshmallows and gumdrops cascading from the branches. Add to that, they had free cinnamon rolls and to quote my friend -- I could have cried.

We wrapped things up at Z Gallerie. I fell in love with this sparkly pumpkin. $9 on sale. I resisted and I have been thinking of nothing else since. We are on the tightest budget of our lives and I want this pumpkin. Why oh why didn’t I buy it? Do I really want it badly enough to fight traffic and crowds on Black Friday on the off chance that it’s still there? I think I do.

Raising Girls

Please send tips on how to handle an 8 year old girl (nearly 9) who is smart and full of attitude.

Major meltdown tonight because I wouldn't play Candy Land. I promised to play yesterday but then Quinn came over and she didn't want to play with me so evidentally once I agree to play Candy Land, she can use that card at anytime.

Oh and I promised to ride bikes to school with her and just because it rained doesn't mean we should have cancelled.

Oh and I made her move from our neighborhood to a new school and no one likes her and Madelyn says she dresses like a boy.

Oh and she doesn't like her new bedroom but if she just had a Yorkie everything would be okay.

Always Consider the Big Picture and the Direction of the Wind

This morning thought I'd burn some old papers in the fire pit rather than waste time shredding them. The shredder is so slow with a big stack of paper.

So at 10:30, threw them in the fire pit and lit them. OMG. Created the largest plume of smoke. I was sure the fire dept would show up. The smoke headed directly for the neighbor's back door so I called them to give them a heads up.

What a bad idea. I ended up sitting vigil until noon to make sure the fire was out and the fire dept wasn't called. Headache from straining to hear the sirens. My hair smells like smoke and my eyes hurt.

Always use the shredder. Always.

These Are the Good Old Days

This is Leah dressed up like Junie B. Jones for a book report/presentation in her 3rd grade class.

Skirt: $25.99 at Justice

Blouse: $18.99 at Justice

Tights: $4.95 at Target

Fake Glasses: $8.50 at Claire's

Our girl: Priceless

Current Events

Two disturbing news stories in today's Arizona Republic.

#1. A page designer with the Republic is trying the "No Impact Experiment" for a week. He and his (crazy or very patient) wife are attempting to have no impact on the environment. No carbon footprint. In fact, they did not use the a/c this summer. It's all very commendable. This morning he wrote about biking to work or taking public transportation and they only bought locally grown food. They limited their use of electricity and they recycled. Boy did they recycle. They didn't use toilet paper. They used rags and then washed them. I am gagging as I write this. Lost all credibility with me after that. No thank you. He's giving green a bad name.

#2. Sales of Lazyboy recliners are booming. It's come to this?

Saturday Agenda

This is what Leah has planned for our day.

- Read Junie B. Jones (20 pages so she can finish her book report. This will only take about 30 minutes with all the distractions. This is a last minute change. She was almost done with Charlotte's Web and then remembered the book had to be fiction but it had to be something that could possibly happen -- CWeb doesn't fit the bill. They get to dress up like one of the characters and she started crying because now she can't dress up like a pig!)

- Watch Titanic (she is obsessed with the Titanic. I said she can watch the movie but we'll have to skip some scenes. I forgot that meant I would have to watch it with her and pay attention -- there goes 4 hours of an otherwise delightful Saturday.)

- Swimming. It's going to be 100 degrees today and I promised we'd swim.

- Go to drama class. Only 2 more rehearsals before the big performance where she makes her debut as a witch.

- Ride bikes. Ideally she wants to ride to the Bahama Bucks to get a smoothie but I think after swimming, I'll just want to hang out.

- And sprinkled in between all this I'm watching her perform original choreography from cds as diverse as the Hairspray soundtrack, Kids Bop 16 and Wicked.

Are you jealous of my day?

Geeks Rule, Don't They?

Laptop is not working. Again.

Geek Squad says it has a virus or a worm or something. I don't believe it because I run McAfee everytime I use it. I think the truth is that no one really knows much about technology and saying it has a virus is safe. They know I'm not smart enough to question them and this way, they "clean" the system and then reload everything. Who's to know?

At some point, new laptops will be cheaper than getting the old one fixed.

Once things are back to normal, I'll tell you about the concert we went to Saturday night. Lots of stories.

The Heartland

This is what 100 years old looks like. My aunt Pauline became a centenarian on Monday, September 28, 2009. Her birthday party was Sunday at the Long Lake Lutheran Church in Long Lake, South Dakota. The population of Long Lake is in dispute but I was told on good authority that there are 33 citizens of this shrinking town.

There were at least 60 people at her party. Mostly senior citizens, mostly with the last name of Schumacher. (Aunt Pauline's maiden name is Schumacher.) It was a great party. I saw a cousin I haven't seen in about 45 years. Two other cousins attended and I was thrilled to spend time with them too.

Pauline Schaffer was born in South Dakota in 1909. She is now the oldest remaining daughter of Ludwig and Eva Schumacher (German immigrants.) Aunt Ella is 98 now and my mom, the baby, as I mentioned, just turned 85. (I have another uncle who will be 99 in January -- my dad's brother in law.)

When we arrived on Friday night (after a 4 hour drive from Fargo, North Dakota) we were greeted with smiles and hugs and happiness. After a midwestern meal of ham, sliced white bread and kool aid ... and watching the Twins on satellite, we settled into bed and Leah asked me "Why do all those people love me so much? They don't even know me." I said "That's how it is in our family. When you're in this family you are loved."

And that's my foundation. Unconditional love. We aren't an overly demonstrative family but the love has always been constant and unconditional. Long Lake may be a dying town but the heart of our family will always be alive.

Eighty five is the new ???

Happy birthday mom.

She's 85 today. I think her hearing is starting to go but other than that, she's doing pretty well. Oh, she repeats herself a lot but so do I.

I wish I could have been in Eugene to celebrate with her but maybe next year.

The next birthday greeting you'll read about in aarpmom is a milestone. Stay tuned.

Get A Life

At the height of the O.J. Simpson trial back in (what year was it anyway?), we drove to L.A. and met my brother and his family while they vacationed there. We ended up going to lunch at the Hard Rock Cafe (that sounds so pathetic now) and then we had an afternoon of southern California sight seeing.

For some reason we ended up in Bel Air and drove by O.J.'s house. The mob scene included several press vans posted at the curb as well as many tourists walking thru the neighborhood. We didn't bother to get out of the car, we just cruised by gawking at the house (I'm not sure what we thought we'd see.)

At the moment we drove by the house a group of local young women drove by in their convertible and yelled at us "GET A LIFE." We paused for a moment and then our car erupted in laughter. We still joke about running a company called Get A Life Tours.

I remembered this story the other night when I found myself with time on my hands. I spent 45 minutes on the www.awfulplasticsurgery.com web site, looking at bad boob jobs.

Obviously I need a hobby.

Hail to the Chief

I say "you go, President Obama." It's been a long time since we've had a president we can be proud of. I think what the president did today was quite admirable. Maybe I'm naive, but I didn't see a hidden agenda. I think he's a concerned father and he wanted to reach out to kids.

Leah said that one of her classmates was taken out of school because her parents didn't want her viewing the president's speech. I was a bad mom and I said "her parents must not be very smart." Yes. I said that.

It's great that he spoke to kids about responsibility and helping to make our country stronger. It reinforces what I hope other parents and teachers are saying.

Leah seemed unaffected by the speech which concerned me a bit but she is only 8. She has her sights set on becoming a dog trainer which probably doesn't require a bachelor's degree (but she doesn't know that.)

Transfixed at Macy's

Saturday morning I went to Macy's to get my mom a birthday present. After browsing the handbags for nearly 30 minutes I found the perfect one for her. A small, black leather bag with silver accents. Twenty five percent off and then I had a coupon for another 15 percent discount.

I clutched my mom's gift and perused the clothing, looking for nothing in particular. A tall angular woman caught my eye because she had on a dress that I also own. It's a light turqoise and brown print, sleeveless with a small brown belt. I noticed that she was at least 6 inches taller than me, making her over six feet. I couldn't see her face but her dark brown bob looked like a wig. Her hair was too perfect and smooth. I kept watching her just to see what else she'd pick out since we both selected the same dress. I thought she might lead me to another nice outfit.

I ended up buying a blue t-shirt and then made my way to the exit at precisely the same moment as the tall woman in my dress.
We both walked south in the parking lot but the tall woman seemed to forget where her car was and she double backed toward me. It was then I saw her face and I noticed the five o'clock shadow, the adam's apple and the pronounced features. That's no lady in my dress, that's a man. A transsexual shopping in Macy's wearing my dress.

I have the same fashion sense as a transsexual.

I Believe in Miracles

My brave sister-in-law has brain cancer. Well she had brain cancer about a year ago. Right now, she doesn't have brain cancer. Her MRIs and tests are all clear.

She was in a car accident and during the tests to determine why she blacked out, they discovered a malignant brain tumor. She had brain surgery a year ago. When I visited her post-op, I cried and she smiled and she talked. She explained how lucky she was to be in an accident so they could discover the tumor. How lucky she was to coincidentally connect with the best doctor in the Valley, how lucky she was to have supportive kids and friends and neighbors.

She said she would not change anything about the past year. She never thinks "why me?" She only thinks how grateful she is to have such good care and she looks forward to the future and where it will lead.

I told her she is more highly evolved than I.

I wanted to tell her how proud I am of her and how every conversation with her gives me insight into living a better life and how she has been an example to me. How I aspire to ignore the little annoyances and focus on the important things. But I never tell her those things. I don't want her to think I'm summarizing her life or that I'm trying to make things right because there might not be time to do it later. I don't want to doubt her strength. I want to keep believing just like she believes.

So, awestruck, I listen and ask questions. I hope her answers will continue to make me smarter and make me a better person like her.

I don't know what will happen. In my heart, I think she is going to be a miracle. I think her strength and positive outlook will keep the cancer at bay. I really do. But she has told me if it doesn't, she will be okay. She is mostly worried about the toll it will take on her kids and us.

Mid Century Surprise

Our covert operation is complete. After much planning and even more anticipation, Didi and I successfully surprised Paige with a 50th birthday party. I invited her for a volleyball swim party promising a birthday happy hour over Labor Day weekend. Our deceit paid off. She was shocked

The scene: 20 of Paige's friends, a pink and green theme, champagne, pink cupcakes, lots of fun.

Chez Woods became a blushing verdant bistro.

The cupcakes had disaster written all over them (quality control problems with the adorable pink and white polka dot papers) but a little teamwork changed disaster into delightful. Some green ribbon, swirly frosting, decorations and a tiered setting. Voila. Eat your heart out SPRINKLES.

My husband , Lynn, graciously offered to tend bar and he even wore a pink shirt. What a sport. (I think he liked being the only man amongst all these ladies.)

Leah found a job as look out for Paige and she kept the party on track by insisting we quit visiting and take time out to let Paige open her gifts.

And what gifts they were: gift certificate to Trapeze University, several thongs, a beautiful teapot, a lovely breakfast themed basket, so many girly accessories and a pair of rubber gloves that brought out the skanky side of a few of the guests! We oohed and ahhhhed the night away. Well that's not all we did.

The morning after:

Our party drew to a close around 11:30. I think we gave Paige a nice beginning to mid Century life.

Reality Bites

Lynn was watching House Hunters on HGTV. He hollered "come here, this woman looks just like you." I saw a thirtysomething, slim, blonde. I didn't know how he could think she looks like me. I knew she didn't.

Then the camera moved back and revealed my real tv-twin. Fifty something, chunky woman with short dirty blonde hair. The word that came to mind was "dowdy". It was a slap in the face, a reality check. I was horrified that my husband thinks I look like her.

What is he thinking???? The more I thought about it, I realized that he didn't think she was dowdy/dikey/unattractive. If I remember my logic class: He loves me and he thinks I'm pretty therefore other women who look like me are pretty. Corny, but true.

It's time to go on a diet. Whenever I reach for a candy bar or a second helping of potatoes, I'll have to remember my tv-twin and take a walk instead.

Things I Like About Summer

I know. Hard to believe I can find anything to like about summer when the average temp is 110. But here's my list of sizzling favorites.

- Putting on a t-shirt with the lingering scent of sun block on it. You know that cocoa butter smell. It whispers summer and makes me dream of evenings in the pool with KOOL FM playing Crosby, Stills and Nash.

- Leah falling asleep in her bathing suit. There is nothing as sweet as an 8 year old dozing off in her pink print Ariel bathing suit. The next morning she stumbles into the family room, hair askew rubbing her eyes. Her suit is twisted revealing her tan lines (and usually a wedgie.)

- A cold beer. Any kind. Poolside is best.

- Rolling thunder. That deep rumble followed by a brief summer rain raising the humidity and our hope that fall temperatures are coming soon.

- Mornings when the a/c is a little too low and you burrow further under the comforter.

- No guilt about missing church. It's a free pass in the summer.

- Throwing the dogs in the pool and their frantic paddle to the steps.

Attention: PETA

No animals are ever hurt during this activity.

- Gin and tonics. Make mine a tall and don't skimp on the lime.

- The only time of year when salad is an accepted dinner chez Woods.

- Emerging from a frigid movie theater into the blazing sun. You head for the stifling cocoon of your car and there is a 60 second stretch when your body relishes the heat.

- The infrequent silences brought on when the a/c takes a break and the ceiling fans are off. I savor the few moments when I can just listen to the stillness of a 109 degree day.

And those, my friends, are some of the things I like about summer in the desert.

Pop Pop Jiffy Pop

Last night we made Jiffy Pop. Leah actually made it. It's a wonder our parents let us do this. You hold that flimsy metal handle and shake the foil-topped pan on top of the red hot burner. And I remember doing this unsupervised.

To tell you the truth, I couldn't even enjoy it. I thought Leah was going to burn her arm. Whenever I reminded her to be careful, she'd turn around and scowl at me which only raised her chances of getting burned. Never take your eyes off the stove!

And for anyone who is concerned, that is a temporary tat on Leah's arm.

A Little Taste of the Hamptons

I went to a fabulous dinner party last Saturday. My friend Donna had a group of girlfriends over to celebrate Summer. She has a knack for tablescapes and menus and whimsical parties.*

She swears she is not a good cook and that she just repackages things. I don't think it matters if you cook or not. I think the important thing is that your guests feel special and I always do when I'm at her house.

You must understand that Tempe, Arizona in July is about as refreshing as... well...hell. Yet when I walked into her house I felt like I was in the Hamptons or Cape Cod. Her bright and cheery family room was so inviting and the white coffee table with the appetizers were casually chic. Serving barbecue potato chips in a beach pail was a stroke of genius. (Why didn't I think of that?)

Here's a peek at her "bar". Various beer and soda pop with brightly colored candies. (Those are plastic orange crush candies.)

And the dinner was down-home, sophistication. Sliders, corn on the cob, salad and french fries. Don't miss the delicate chocolate milkshakes. It was a wonder that she got the deep fryer and the blender put away before we arrived. (wink, wink)

Here is Jana demonstrating how to dip French fries into ice cream. Perhaps a treat indigenous to Southern California????

Pam couldn't resist the Root Beer Floats for dessert.

I love the nautical candleholders. Are we on Hyannis Port? Is that Ted Kennedy helping himself to another Samuel Adams?

It was a wonderful evening. Full of lively conversation; tales of midwestern travels, the anticipation of seeing a new granddaughter and many many laughs. (Is there an accent that Laurie can't imitate?)

I look forward to our next event. Martha Stewart has nothing on my talented friends.

***************************************

*Disclaimer: All of my friends are great hostesses and I admire all of their talents. I would write about everyone but this event just happened and I have the week off which gives me time to write. LV your parties are great with the perfect food and dishes and no one decorates for a holiday the way you do. Mrs. Perfect, your salads are incomparable and I still dream of the margarita pizzas that you made about TEN years ago. Yummy! JB: I love going to your house. You are the BEST cook and I always have so much fun. The custom omelettes you had for Liz's brunch were wonderful. Didi: You are also a fabulous hostess. I believe it's in your genes. You are the best cook (red velvet cake, grilled veggies, salads, I could go on and on.) Xmas has become a great tradition not only for the food but for the decorating touches that are wonderfully simple yet oh so chic.

Cable Conundrum

So far, so good with the one paycheck family. We've cut way back and we're doing okay. I feel that if we had just a little more money, we could go on like this forever.

In fact, if we got rid of our $143/month cable bill that would make things bearable. (This includes cable, Internet and landline.) So I called Cox yesterday to see what we could do. I was willing to just have a few -- what I consider basic -- cable channels like BRAVO, TNT, Lifetime and of course ESPN. Well Cox has a different definition of basic cable. To quote "basic cable is channels 2 through 22." Two through 22????? Wow, that means ABC, NBC, CBS, C-Span plus WB, Fox and a couple of spanish channels. The thought of a life with basic cable (and without the Kardashians)gave me a headache.

So then I decided to go the other route and see what we can do about some of the phone add-ons. We pay $29.90 for a package that includes caller-id, voice mail and call waiting. We could buy a $20 answering machine (then we could screen calls anyway).

I can never find the call waiting button because I have to pull it away from my ear and then I have to hold it at arm's length to see the keyboard. I rarely do this because I can't hear what the caller is saying and unless it's my mom, it could be something I haven't heard before.

As to caller-id, I think we could go back to the old fashioned element of surprise. So I thought I had saved us $29.90 and I told Dave the cable operator to remove that package. He said he could but then we'd lose our $32.43 monthly discount because we have everything packaged together and it includes those add-ons. So instead of saving $29.90, we'd spend an extra $2.53. Hmmmm. This is harder than I thought.

The DVR costs another $18/month but I'd rather walk to work than lose that. Besides the DVR makes my tv watching much more efficient so I'm saving time and time is money, right?

Does anyone have any money saving ideas that won't interupt my lifestyle? Something that has to do with cutting back on exercising or cleaning? We haven't been to church in weeks so we've saved a little there...

Bad Mom or Natural Sommelier?

Leah and I were at Trader Joe's yesterday. I needed a bottle of wine to take to a dinner party at Donna's. I asked Leah to help me pick out the right wine based on how much we liked the label.

Our criteria was that Donna loves the color pink.

Leah found this bottle (I wrapped a tea towel around it.) The delightfully feminine label caught our eye and the bright pink cap sealed the deal.

Was I wrong to include Leah in this activity?

Dog Days Part Deux

Last night fell asleep at midnight. Very restless night waking up to Roxie suspiciously roaming around the family room.

At 3:10 a.m., woke up to the unmistakable sound of Daisy in her kennel throwing up. Got her outside in time for the second wave. Cleaned and disinfected her kennel in the middle of the night. Let her back inside because even at 3:00 it is just too hot outside.

Finally fell asleep long enough to be roused by the same familiar cough at 6:15 a.m. Daisy again. Same routine.

Got up bleery eyed at 8:40. Her stomach problems seem to be over.

Honestly, this is worse than Leah's infancy. At least I could contain her explosions. With her we could just throw things in the washing machine and start over. I never had to get down on my hands and knees by the light of the moon and disinfect any furniture. And I'm confident that someday she'll return the favor and take care of me. What's the payback with these puppies?

Dog Days

Got up at 5:00 to take someone to the airport. This is after lying awake all night worrying that I wouldn't wake up in time.

Drove back home nearly missing construction all over the city. Closed freeway ramps and blocked off lanes. Happened to glance at the gas gauge which was flirting with EMPTY. Pulled into gas station just in time.

Got home from the airport run at 6:15 and found that Daisy had diarrhea all over her kennel.

Put Daisy outside. Hosed off the kennel. Disinfected the kennel. Finally sat down at 7:30.

At least by getting up before the sun, it gives me an entire day to recoup and recover.

I will not let this poopy day color my attitude.

When Did TV Become X Rated?

It's become quite difficult to watch tv with Leah. Between the viagra commercials and the news, I'm on constant alert.



So far she hasn't asked me about those embarassing KY Jelly ads. You know the ones where the couple is on the bed talking about which type works best for them.



Tonight we made the mistake of watching a movie on the ION network. I've never watched anything on that channel before. All the ads are for medical things. Some sort of insurance ad where the woman is complaining about having to reuse her catheters -- she has to boil them. So I switched to a mainstream channel. NBC was airing a special about Michael Jackson. They showed clips from when he started "touching himself." Oh, the questions about that. She said she did NOT like it (I hear ya sister.)



And some of the basic cable channels don't bleep out the bad words. You can hear "shit" (she doesn't know what that word means -- she doesn't even know it's a bad word!) or "goddamn" (she knows it's a grown up word.)



I've become an expert at changing the channel when I realize a sexual situation is about to happen. I get her talking to me while I covertly start pressing buttons.

So far she hasn't questioned the viagra commercials. I will make up something. I always do.

Freezer Burn

Today at the dermatologist I had a little, harmless spot removed from underneath my left eye. The dr. called it a maturity growth (code: something that appears out of nowhere when you reach middle age like extra fat around your stomach and extra hair on your chin.)

So they used liquid nitrogen which is at 320 degrees below zero and they burned it off my face. Technically, it's freezing it but it felt like someone burning my skin. Luckily it was very quick.

Now I am waiting for it to heal. So far it's a blister and it's bigger than it was before ... and more noticeable.

But anyway, the doctor could not believe that I've lived in Arizona for more than 30 years. He said I have very little sun damage especially for someone who has lived here for so long. So, for all of my friends who make fun of my paleness, take that!!!!

Potpourri for $400

Sometimes the idea of San Francisco is nicer than the reality of San Francisco. I like it and appreciate the city but the number of agressive homeless people gives it a layer of sadness. I feel guilty ignoring their pleas for change as I've just paid $30 for a two egg omlette.




It's finally happened. Leah has a life of her own. For the longest time I couldn't wait for time to myself and now that I have it, it's too soon. She just spent an entire day on a play date, then she went to Vacation Bible School (which lasts all week) and now she's in gymnastics camp.



We finally have a pool and this has been the mildest summer in decades. The water is just a bit too cool. In the past when we were pool-less, we were melting by Memorial Day. Not this year! Now that we have our own pool the blasting sun won't show its face.




Up is a good movie. It's not just for kids. In fact some of the subject matter is very mature.




The New Jersey Housewives are scary.

I think Kate from Jon & Kate Plus Eight is getting a bad rap. I like her. So what if she's uber organized and militant about it. I can't imagine how stressful life would be with 8 kids if you were laid back and passive. It would be bedlam. Jon needs to realize that without the show and the attention surrounding them, they would be living in a 1500 square foot condo, eating cereal for dinner. How else could you support 8 kids without an above average income??? He's a big baby.

I kind of like the challenge of living off one income. I wish Lynn was working but I like watching our pennies. Oh, it would be nice to do a little mindless shopping but so far we're doing just fine. I think this will be good for all of us. We rarely go out for lunch or dinner now but when we do, it's a treat.

We've been in our new house since December and we still have about 30 unpacked boxes in the garage. I am tempted to just take all of them to Goodwill. Naaaaaahhhhhh.

Bad Trip

Lynn broke his arm 6-1/2 weeks ago. It was an unfortunate kickball accident. I haven't written about it because it's just so frustrating. I believe it led to him being laid off and the entire episode has multiplied our stress by 1000 percent.

He's just beginning to feel better. He took his brace off today and let his arm support itself. He's been flexing his hand to help strengthen his arm.

Lynn was closing the blinds in Leah's room tonight and he tripped on a jumble of toys and clothes and fell.

On his broken arm. The arm that had no protective brace.

There was crying (Leah) and wincing and finger pointing. There was complete chaos. Lynn was pivoting on one foot doing a psychotic circle dance as he debated whether to sit down or stand up.

Lynn and Leah exchanged words while I nervously paced asking "what should I do? What should I do?" By now, Leah is bawling.

I am not good in a medical emergency. I imagined a bone protruding from his skin so I started to get a bit woozy. I quickly turned my back on my injured husband and I did what I do best: I yelled at everyone to shut up. Yep, I'm the girl you want around in an emergency.

Lucky Girl

When I married Lynn, I got a bonus gift.

Like me, Lynn had lifelong friends from grade school and beyond. (Lynn and Bart have been friends for nearly 50 years.) This group gathers once a year or at least every other year. They allow wives and girlfriends along and also children and soon, grandchildren, I suspect. This group (my friend in-laws) used to bond over hiking, backpacking and camping. Soon backpacks gave way to tents, then car camping and now hotels. They dubbed themselves the Coatimundis after a camping trip where a pack of coatis appeared.

This past weekend the Coatis converged on the J-T Ranch in Cottonwood. It was billed as the passing of the torch to the second generation. Saturday afternoon was filled with bocce ball, horseshoes, naps and many adult beverages.

Saturday night (after the most delicious Porterhouse steak I’ve ever tasted – thank you Chef Bart) we had the torch ceremony. All participants were instructed to wear costumes and at 7:30 the parade began.

The “elders” arrived in caveman/wizard/Greek god attire. They had scripted a program including an intermission. First up, initiate the second generation into the “tribe”. Bob’s son, Logan was first. He’s 18 and has only been with our group a handful of times so I thought he might wince at the ceremony. But he bounced out of his chair and eagerly answered the questions 1) why do you want to be a coati? 2) what special talent do you possess? Down the line with a lone drum beat in the background, the ceremony continued: Reilly (Dennis and Annette’s beautiful 25 year old daughter), Lisa (Bobb and Joyce’s gorgeous progeny). Lionel, Lisa’s boyfriend (A Marine just back from Iraq! He wholeheartedly participated.) Reilly’s friend - Ashley, Shari’s daughter - Daphne, then Shari and finally Leah.

At 8 years old, Leah is the youngest. She wasn’t quite sure what was happening but she knew she wanted to be part of it.

My brave little girl stood in the middle of the room in her pirate costume and said she wanted to be a coati because it’s “fun” and as to her special talent, she replied “my daddy can take a coin out of my ear.”

All second generation candidates were accepted. Also girlfriends and Bianca, Hal’s new bride.

The grand finale was an epic poem penned by our Bob McCraley. With multiple verses, he managed to name all the coatis and include an anecdote about each one.

I kept thinking how lucky I am to be part of this group. When I looked around the room and saw the smiles and tears and thoughtful faces, I knew that our initiation ceremony had done more than playfully welcome the next generation. We had recognized the significance of our group.

With only a decade separating us from social security, many in the room no longer have living parents. Many do not have children and never will. Some lucky people like me have wonderful parents AND a great daughter AND layers of friendship outside this group. I thought, how am I so blessed? What did I do to deserve a life brimming with family and so many great friends?

I think the initiation ceremony passed the torch on two levels. The adult children now join us as peers and our friends have evolved into our family. Our chosen family. This is the family that will see us through the next adventures in life.

Thank you my dear friends. Thank you for a great Memorial Day weekend. Bobb, Joyce, Lisa, Lionel, Dennis, Annette, Reilly, Ashley, Bart, Nancy, Mike, Deny, Gretchen, Hal, Bianca, Rob, Bird, Pat, Helene, Dennis, Bob, Logan, Shari, Daphne and Leah. And thanks to my Lynn for giving me the gift of these wonderful people.

Sexual Confusion

Am I the only one who thought Ricky Gervais was gay? To me he was like Nathan Lane, except that I was attracted to Ricky Gervais. I couldn't figure it out. I thought I was turning into Liza Minnelli.

It was very disturbing.

Things were cleared up the other night when Ricky Gervais was on Late Night with David Letterman and mentioned his girlfriend.

Whew. Everything is as it should be.

Second Grade Curse

Leah, my second grader, announced that she knows the F word. "Hmmmm", I said, wondering if she really knew what she was saying. "I can even spell it."

"Really?" I asked, hoping she was mistaken. "Well, it's a grown up word that is inappropriate for you and I don't want you ever talking about it again."

She insisted she could spell it. I said "Okay, go ahead."

"F U C A"

I was equal parts appalled and amused.

The Devil Is In the Details

When I graduated from Arizona State University, I had no idea I was getting my bachelors degree from a place with such high standards. I thought I had a solid education from a state university. It’s not like graduating from an Ivy League institution or a prestigious private university where students are held more accountable for their education but nevertheless a good education. Well, I am definitely rethinking my feelings about my degree.

Little did I know, the Sun Devils have raised the bar on success. You see, President Obama is scheduled to give the commencement address at ASU this year. I guess in this situation it is typical to award the speaker with an honorary doctoral degree. But it seems ASU has decided that because President Obama is relatively young and his body of work is still ahead of him, they will not give our new president an honorary degree. (A few days after announcing this, they did say they are naming their highest scholarship after him. So his best work may be ahead of him and not worthy of an honorary Ph.D., but his degree from Harvard, his teaching experience at Harvard, his experience as a community organizer, his years in the Senate and finally his job as President of the U.S. are worthy of a scholarship program.)

Wow.

I have been holding my head up a little higher lately. I did not realize that I hold a Bachelors Degree from a university with these lofty standards. Standards that view the position of president of the United States as an entry level job.

Go Devils.

Betty Ford Part II

Yesterday we had lunch at Jason's Deli. Had a yummy club sandwich with a cup of soup. The place was packed. Enjoyed the people watching. Just as I took a bite, a woman walked by sporting a baseball cap that said "Betty Ford Center". Really?

There are no rules anymore, are there? Why would you wear that? I know, I know, you're proud of yourself for finishing the Program. I wonder who thought of having a gift shop at the Betty Ford Center. Is it full of caps and pens and souvenir key chains?

I don't know. It just struck me as a strange logo item to wear. It made me a little sad. I wanted to enjoy my lunch and not think about the troubles around me. I wanted to spy on the senior citizens across the way who ate off each others' plates and I watched as the grade school boy made a second trip to the free ice cream. There was a table of eight, all ages who seemed to be celebrating something and next to us were 4 older ladies sans men either by choice or circumstance. They ate their salads in between laughter and whispers. I prefer those tables and not thinking about the realities of things like addiction and other human foibles.

Is there a gift shop at the prison? at traffic school? AA? Can you get a souvenir t-shirt after your colonoscopy?

Face It. I'll Never Be Hip.

I'm not hip enough for Facebook. I'm trying. Really I am. I set up my account (initially just for work) and I visit every day and try to write something on the "wall".

But it is for Gen X or Gen Y or Milleniums or whatever they are called. There is too much going on. You look here and there for comments and people poke you or pass you a drink. And by the time you figure out it doesn't really mean anything, they have left you in the dust for not responding and they are poking and passing drinks for their new "friends."

The Wall is overwhelming to me. There is just so much on it. It gives me a headache. You leave a comment and someone responds and then days later when you accidentally scroll down the page (because you really meant to do something else but the page starts scrolling) you realize that an entire conversation has transpired without you when you thought it ended days ago.

And then people you work with want to be your friend. Why? I quit responding because I see these people every frickin' day. I have nothing new to tell them -- at least nothing that I want them to know about. I would like to keep some things just in my personal life. I don't think the guy in the next cubicle needs to know that that I had a great time drinking champagne with my girlfriends Friday night, does he?

And then the pressure of filling out the profile. I don't know the difference between "Activities" and "Interests". And I'm sure that my activities and interests are oh so boring. I bet everyone else has things like sky diving, training for triathlons, cycling, launching new businesses and volunteering at a homeless shelter. Mine are reading and watching movies in between playing with my daughter and the dogs.

And the music. I have the musical taste of a 12 year old girl --- from 1970. I still like the stuff I grew up with. I don't know any of the new music, except the top 40 stuff. So I'm hoping when people read my musical tastes they find them charming and retro rather than unsophisticated and simple.

See, everything about Facebook stresses me. I thought Twitter was bad, but no one can really find you on Twitter so the pressure is off. On Facebook you are so exposed.

I clench my teeth and pause while I try to think of something pithy and smart to write. It must BE witty and glib but it must sound effortless. It has to sound like you just sat down at your laptop on the way to the gym and you quickly click out this observation barely finishing before you sign off, grab your latte and bounce out the door.

And the list of Friends. It's a competition the likes of which you've not seen since the 10th grade. You need quantity and quality. You need beautiful people, successful people, old, young and someone famous would not hurt. I rack my brain trying to think of every person I've ever known in my life. Former co-workers, cousins, old boyfriends (who cares if you hate them), hair dressers, insurance agent, your husband's friends. Please, please, please, show up in my search. Pleeeeeezzzzz accept my invitation to be my friend. And please have a good picture. I say this as my default, white outline stays on my page. I have no good pictures. Again, the pressure. If I post a current picture, I will never be happy. If I post a picture I like, it will be 35 pounds ago and everyone will wonder who I think I'm fooling. I don't want to go the cute route and post my daughter's photo. I could use the dogs, I could use a childhood photo or I could find a scenic photo and post which is was I did on Linkedin.

I fear my search for hipness is hopeless. If you're reading this and you're on Facebook, will you be my friend? But only if you have a good picture and your interests and activities fall into the hip without trying category. I need to boost my Facebook stock.

Chair Dancing in the Morning

You know it's going to be a good day when you're in the drive thru at Starbucks and it's warm enough to have the windows rolled down all the way around AND "Love Shack" comes on the radio. Nothing better than chair dancing before breakfast. Thank you B52s.

8th Time the Charm?

You tell me. Was the party a success?

Oops I Did It Again

I am the worst mom when it comes to birthday parties. I think I'm pretty darn good at having a grown up party. I love figuring out the theme and setting the table and even having favors if it complements the event. But when it comes to my daughter's birthday I fall far short on the party-meter.

Last year was a disaster (see my post from February 2008.) I was determined to redeem myself this year. Her birthday was on Tuesday so I knew it could be low key until the weekend celebration for her friends. It started out great with a chocolate donut AND waffles for breakfast served on her special birthday plate. She got to open one gift in the morning and it was all smiles when I took her to school.

After school, it was the same. Happiness as she opened ALL of her gifts before going to gymnastics. She got the Littlest Pet Shop Fitness Center that she had been dying for since Thanksgiving, cute clothes from grandparents and her aunt and uncle. The piece de resistance was a two-wheel (Barbie) scooter.

Things were going great. She got to bring a friend to gymnastics where she showed off by climbing the rope in record time. Then to dinner at McDonalds (her choice) for chicken nuggets and more play time. Finally we were home for birthday cake.

Oh dear. I forgot to buy birthday candles. Normally we would have plenty lying around but since we've moved I can't always locate things. The birthday candles could be anywhere. A box in the garage, a bathroom drawer, under the bed. Who knows.

I tried to downplay it with Leah. Maybe she won't mind. The cake is so cute (pink and purple daisies.) What was I thinking? The meltdown began. "I hate my birthday." "I don't want any cake."

Sobbing ensued.

But mothers are nothing if not resourceful. I found some darling, little votives that looked like champagne bottles -- but only five. So I scrounged around and found some tapers. Because they were so big I didn't want them to ruin the decorations so I gently put them on the side of the cake. Look.

I thought it looked rather cute but she was not convinced. More tears. Threats and scowls. She wanted nothing to do with the imposters. She fled the scene while they dripped waterfalls of wax threatening to cover the entire side with a parafin veil. But Lynn and I persevered and sang to her and she relented blowing out the candles before it was too late.

So far I am 3 for 8 on birthdays. Years one and two were fine but only because they were basically grown up parties. We didn't have a party for her 3rd birthday (slipped that by her.) Number four was a disaster. We planned a nice little party at a dairy farm where they could tour the farm and then celebrate in one of the pavilions but that was the year we had record rainfall and the dairy closed the party side. We quickly regrouped at Peter Piper Pizza where it was sheer bedlam. Kids running in every direction, tokens, pizza, soda pop galore. Her fifth birthday was my only other success. Pump It Up. A big warehouse with miles and miles of bouncers. Nirvana for the pre-school set. She had a great time and the party room afterwards was wonderful with an inflatable throne. That year I ordered a Barbie birthday cake which continues to be Leah's favorite!!! The downside of that year was that the entire thing cost $400 which is about $300 too much for a 5 year old's birthday celebration.

When she was six we rented a cabin in Northern Arizona and spent the weekend in the snow. We had a great time but she still complains about not having a party. Last year was well documented in this blog. I still suffer from post traumatic stress syndrome over that fiasco.

And now she's eight. I have a chance to redeem myself on Sunday when we have her party at Makutu's Island. I've never been but I hear it's a child's dream. She is having only 5 friends and she picked the guests without my help. I think it's a strange mix but I'm trying to let go since last year I orchestrated things and we know what happened. So, tomorrow evening will either be heaven or hell chez Woods. Wish me Godspeed.

Ku Ku Ka Chu

Complicated girl
Amazing, bright hazel eyes
Today she is eight

Like a Bad Penny?

I cleaned out my closet this weekend. Recycling everything I haven't worn in the past year(s). It felt good.

I am having trouble with one item of clothing though.

Jeans.

Will high-waisted, straight-legs ever come back? I mean I know they are fine on supermodels. They can wear whatever they like. But how about normal women? Should I keep them just in case? I have a dozen pair that are still in good shape. It will cost so much to replace them if we wake up next Fall and find that unflattering jeans are back in.

I had no trouble getting rid of jackets and tops with monster shoulder pads. Why can't I bid adieu to my mom jeans?

Where's My Secret Service Detail?

Today we had lunch at Burger King. Not my choice. Leah insisted. Had a fit in fact. I wanted to go somewhere and be waited on. Plus I hate those play areas. I can't even think about the germs that reside on those slides. (Would it kill them to include anti-bacterial wipes next to the entrance?)

When we were about a foot from the door, I heard a man yell "wait, wait, I'll get the door." He sounded almost desperate. Took me a minute to realize he was talking to us. I turned toward him and then I stepped aside so he could hold the door for us. He was obviously mentally challenged and I thought it was important to him so I let him get the door.

He was short, 45-ish, raincoat, glasses and a big open face. He did not have Down Syndrome but it was obvious that he was mentally challenged in some way.

He kept talking to me -- loudly. (Why is it the cute, intellectual guys at Starbucks never talk to me?) He told me I had a beautiful daughter (perhaps he's not mentally challenged after all!), then he said she looks just like me (I love, love, love it when I hear that.)

I was polite and responded to him each time but he was really loud and he made me uncomfortable. (I know, I know.)

After we ordered and waited at the counter, he said "Do you know who you look like?" I thought "oh boy, this will be good." I don't look like anyone famous. I wondered who he would say. He proudly told me that I look like Betty Ford. I really wanted to say "the young Betty Ford or Betty Ford now?" But I knew my humor would be lost. I simply said "thank you." Then he repeated that my daughter looks just like me.

After we sat down Leah said how nice he was. I explained that he's mentally challenged and that she probably reads and understands better than he does. She asked how he got like that and I said I wasn't sure and that some people are born that way but sometimes they are in accidents that hurt their brain. She tilted her head like she didn't understand but she nodded like she did. I wanted her to know that he is different but that it's okay.

Even though things were a little awkward, it felt good that someone immediately called Leah my daughter without first calling me her grandma. I mean, really, I think people who are mentally challenged are usually more honest than most of us. If he thought I was her grandma, he would not have hesitated to say so.

Maybe we should frequent Burger King more often.

Parent Pick-Up

Leah is beside herself with happiness today. I did not buy her a new DS game, nor did I get her a new WebKinz. Guess again.

It's true what they say. The best thing you can give your child is your time. I have the week off to take care of some things that have been neglected since we moved (cleaning, organizing, etc.) Since I have no schedule, I asked Leah if she'd like me to pick her up from school today. She screamed "yes" before I could finish asking the question. She started giving me instructions on the "parent pick-up". How I wait in the car and she comes to me. Which parking lot I go to and that I am not allowed to get out of my car. I must wait. Oh and I must send a note to her teacher so she knows to escort her.

Her little face was full of excitement and happiness this morning when she reminded me.

I'm a little excited too. She's a 2nd grader and this is a first for us.

It bothers me that I have to work full-time which means she has to go to after school care instead of coming right home. I don't think she's suffered for it but I would like to have a more relaxed evening with her. It isn't possible to relax when we're always hurrying during our few hours at home together every night.

But today will be different.

Coincidence or Fate?

We moved into our new house 2 weeks before Christmas. Moved from a perfectly nice house in Chandler to a great house in Tempe. Our reasons for moving were many and varied (more about that later.)
I love our house. I haven't lived in Tempe in 24 years and oh how nice it is to be back. I love everything about our new neighborhood. The neighbors are very nice and visible and friendly. A mixture of young families, retired people and empty nesters. Leah and I take bike rides (never did in Chandler) and we walk the dogs. I sit on the patio and bask in the glory of our pretty new yard (never really did that in Chandler either.)
But here's the kicker.
As you know our daughter is adopted. On Saturday, whilst out front with the other neighbors watching the kids ride their bikes, I discovered that there are 3 other adopted kids on our street. Yes, a grand total of 4 sweet adopted kids on one street. Actually the other three are only two houses away.
I believe that at some point, Leah will find comfort in having friends that are also adopted. I think it will make her feel less "different". And she will have friends to discuss things with if she needs to. So knowing there are 3 other kids on our street who are potential friends and confidantes is very soothing to me.
It's so good to be home.

Cindy McCain

For some reason Cindy McCain bugs me. I'm sure she's a perfectly nice person but she irritates me. Maybe it's the retro Barbie look, maybe it's the seemingly unlimited supply of St. John knits. Today after the Inauguration ceremony, they showed her and the Senator arriving at the luncheon and she immediately checked her Blackberry. Now maybe there are extenuating circumstances that we're not aware of. Maybe she's waiting to hear from her doctor about a kidney/liver/heart transplant or maybe she's expecting a call from one of her children but quite honestly, what could be more important than the inauguration??? I don't go to many galas or balls but isn't participating in inaugural events pretty much the pinnacle no matter who you are?

The Greatest Generation

My aunt Pauline who is 99 years old called me yesterday.
She lives in South Dakota and is first generation American from German parents. She is conservative and always votes Republican. She has not ventured too far away from Long Lake, South Dakota although they lived in Oregon for about 20 years. She loved her husband til the day he died and I'm sure she wishes he was still with her.
I doubt she has ever been near a computer, she doesn't blog, tweet or google. I'm sure to her, President Obama is a curiousity and his age more than his race is a concern. But yesterday when she called she commented on the inauguration and she said about Obama "he has a very pretty family." You know why I like this so much? I know she is unsure about him as a president but as an older American she knows she needs to speak well of our President and she also wanted to say something nice about him because she knows I voted for him. It makes me love her even more because she's trying so hard to be generous and diplomatic. That's how people of her generation are. Maybe the rest of us will start acting like that now that we have optimism and new leadership and ... hope.

A Tiny Suburban Miracle

Saturday morning I did our weekly grocery shopping at Safeway. I’m using coupons and discount offers as much as I can these days. I grabbed my grocery cart clutching 4 coupons in my hand along with my list. Thirty five cents off any brand of Chef Boyardee pasta, 20 cents off frozen corn, 30 cents off children's Triaminic cold medicine and 20 cents off my favorite key lime yogurt.
I started in produce and made my way through the store. By the time I hit aisle 4 -- cereal -- I noticed that I was missing the Triaminic coupon. Darn. I didn’t want to waste time searching the store so I vowed to visit the Triaminic web site later to see if I could find a discount offer. All in all, I saved $11 with the remaining coupons and my frequent shoppers card. Not bad.

Sunday afternoon I made some baked beans for a side dish for dinner. Barbecue sauce is a key ingredient and we didn’t have any. I dashed to Safeway to pick up the missing ingredient. I headed directly to the condiment aisle past the ketchup, mustard, salad dressing and stopped at the Barbecue sauce. I reached for the Safeway brand (2 for $3.00) but then noticed the Cattleman brand (2 for $5.00). I picked up a bottle to scan the label and something on the shelf caught my eye. Yes, right there next to Cattleman barbecue sauce was a precisely cut coupon for 30 cents off children's Triaminic. My coupon.

I love thinking about this series of events. Someone picked it up and put it on the shelf and more than 24 hours later, before they could restock, I found it.


Almost like winning the lottery…sort of…

Reservation Dogs

Woke up this morning and it was just like any other Sunday. Lazy, sunny, errands, laundry and catching up. Or so I thought.

This is the scene on our couch tonight at 7:00. We stopped by PetSmart just to look. Now we have 2 dogs. Roxie and Daisy. By way of the Fredonia Dog Rescue. Sisters picked up on the reservation. Supposedly lab mixes (personally, I think they have a little coyote in them!)

We changed their names from Carly and Echo. At first we were only going to adopt Carly but they were so sweet together and we didn't want Carly (aka Roxie) to be lonely. Then the guy from the rescue said he'd give us both girls for the price of one. Buy one get one free.

So after a home visit... yes, two of the volunteers followed us home and checked out our house. We had to put up the pool fench and reinforce the gate. We have to promise to let them sleep inside in a crate. And when 100 degree temperatures roll around we have to have our doggie door installed so they can come in and cool off. The volunteers did not just come in and leave --- they were here for about 30 minutes checking the fence and asking questions. I wanted to say "hey, we adopted a child, I think we're a safe bet."

Tonight they are great. We'll see about tomorrow when the patio furniture is chewed beyond recognition and the neighbors are threatening to call the police because of the barking. But how can you not love these girls ... all three of them.