Friday Five, Conscious Dreaming

I've had nightmares for as long as I can remember. They are vicious and come in every flavor of horror.

My husband Calvin doesn’t have nightmares—never had one. Lucky him. One day, I said, “Don’t you ever have a dream that goes bad? A nightmare that leaves you soaked in sweat and gasping for breath?” He said, “If they’re going bad, I fix them. I change the story.”

Via Google, I discovered this is called conscious dreaming and decided to try it. So, I made up endings for each type of nightmare I have. Here’s how it went:

Nightmare, type 1. Pursued by an evil creature on a horse through a dark wood.

My plan: I’d pull a shining sword from a scabbard, stab the evil creature through the heart, and lop off its head, à la Eowyn in Lord of the Rings.

My reality: Me to the evil creature, “You’ve made a mess of the woods—slime and monster droppings everywhere. Go away so I can clean up.” The evil creature slinks away, tail between its legs. And now, I feel bad for hurting the evil creature’s feelings.

2. Nightmare, type 2. Claustrophobic panic attack. I don’t have claustrophobia or panic attacks. Except in dreams.

Plan: I use superhuman strength—this is a dream after all—and burst whatever I’ve been shoved into.

Reality: (Discovering I’ve been shoved into a tight sack) “This is ridiculous. I am not claustrophobic and I don’t have panic attacks, so I’m going to wake up.” And I did.

3. Nightmare, type 3. Chased by a murderer and I can’t run away or scream.

 Plan: The murderer attacks. I raise and fire my gun. Afterward, I blow smoke from the muzzle.

Reality: My feet are stuck, I unstick them. But I don’t run. *Facepalm* Instead, I scream and start laughing. Cowed by laughter, the murderer retreats into darkness. Then, I do the happy dance.

4. Nightmare, type 4. Rotten teeth nightmare. According to Google, this nightmare is an expression of anxiety I’m feeling about losing my identity.

Plan: Um, I think I have this nightmare because I hate paying big dentist bills. Maybe I can pretend the dentist works for free.

Reality: I see holes in the back of my teeth. This dream is dumb—no one can see the back of their molars. Besides, the dentist says my teeth are fine, if only I’d stop grinding them. I tell the nightmare to go away and never come back. It works. But I still wish the dentist was free.

Nightmare, type 5. A pain nightmare is when real pain breaks into your dreams—30% of people with chronic, acute pain have pain dreams. Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome is the gift that keeps on giving…

Plan: I’ll dream of a capsule containing a swirl of blue, red, and yellow mini-pills. A stained glass of pain relief. I’ll swallow the pill with a shot of bourbon. Presto. No more pain.

Reality: Yeah…I haven’t got this figured out yet. Maybe I can use that flaming sword leftover from the evil creature nightmare to kill the pain. One slicing strike. Pain dies…it dies a painful death. 😊 Sorry, I couldn’t resist that.

 

Friday Five, Spring Isn't Here Yet

 Winter is drawing to a close. But I’m not quite ready for spring, even though it’s one of my favorite seasons. Here’s why I’m trying to live in the last bits of winter.

 1. I refuse to think about all the weeds the last snowfalls germinated. It will be thousands. Tens of thousands. Or, given I spent the late fall working on the kitchen reno, instead of weeding…hundreds of thousands.

I prefer to think about the view from my office as snow falls.

2. I refuse to think the Canada geese will be mating soon. They screech all night long, waking me up at midnight, 1 am, 2 am, 3 am… You get the picture. Why can’t they fly home to Canada for mating season—after all, they are Canada geese.

I prefer to think about them walking on the frozen pond, very peeved they can’t swim. 

3. I refuse to think that I will soon be changing clothes five times a day.

         1. Early morning: undershirt, shirt, jeans, wool sweater.

         2. Morning: remove wool sweater.

         3. Noon: remove undershirt.

         4. Afternoon: exchange a long-sleeved shirt for short-sleeved.

         5. Late afternoon: shorts and t-shirt.

         6. Dinner: jeans, undershirt, long sleeves, and wool sweater.

         7. Bedtime: fleece jammies, undershirt, heating pad.

Seven times a day... I’m going back to bed and pulling the covers over my head. I don't even want to think about the time change.

4. I refuse to think about kitchen reno, part five. Painting the upper cabinets. I really, really want to do this—to finish part five of a six-step reno. But that means a disaster, stench, and exhaustion.

I prefer to think about how much I love what we’ve already done. 

But the upper cabinets are pretty yellowed...

5. I refuse to think about…too late. I saw the first flowers. SPRING is here!!

Crocuses

Snowdrops

A hellebore

Friday Five: Teach Your Child to Sew

My mom is from Europe, where sewing is popular, so she taught me to sew. And I taught my daughter because…it’s what mothers do. The upside is that when my daughter went to grad school, I inherited a sewing project she didn’t have time to finish. That was seven years ago. I just finished the project. Here are the top five reasons you should finish your inherited sewing project.

 1. Your child inherited her father’s artistic eye. And she has a sense of line and knows which patterns will look good.

 2. You remember why your daughter abandoned the project—there’s a mismatch between the sleeves and the sleeve lining. You ponder ripping out the sleeve lining and recutting it… But, honestly, you’re too tired. Besides, your great aunt who taught fancy handwork at a Swiss boarding school isn’t going to grade you. (She once gave my cross-stitch an A for the front side and a C for the backside. Grrr. It’s not like that rankled… 😉)

 3. Your child is precise. This means she’s clipped all the curves, pressed open the seams, and followed the pattern directions.

 4. Sadly, the pattern directions your daughter left behind are in Spanish and you don’t know Spanish. You know Latin and French, so you tell yourself you'll be able to figure it out… In the end, you wing it and hope for the best.

 5. Best reason to finish an inherited sewing project: Most of the work is already done! New lined, fleece jacket in the color of autumn. Woot!

Friday Five, DIY Tiling

My husband Calvin and I are redoing our kitchen. We have brand new quartz counters—so much better than the old Formica. And we have a new sink and faucet—which has a sprayer!! (The old kitchen to the left looks remarkably good in the photo. But it wasn't--the counter was coming apart, etc.)

When the old counters were removed, they left big gouges in the wall. So, we needed a new backsplash and decided to tile it ourselves.

 Here are five things I learned:

 1. Know your strengths and weakness. Let the artist (not me) pick the tile. He will absolutely know if it matches the counters. It will save time. And worry—or, at least it should…

Me: Are you sure it’s going to look good?

Artist husband: Yes.

Me tiling.

Me: Are you really, really sure it’s going to look good?

Him: Yes.

Me: Are you—

Him:  I’m really, really sure.

Me: (I’ll worry quietly now.)

 2. When you put adhesive on the wall, more is not more. It just means more clean-up. Lots more clean-up.

 3. Any DIY home project requires music. The best kind is 80s pop/rock. Nothing is better in the midst of a DIY than a dance break. Especially when “Sweet Dreams,” “Heartbreaker,” or “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” starts playing on Pandora. (I'm definitely not posting a photo of this. :)

Wet saw.

 4. A wet saw. If you’re using a glass/stone mosaic tile, you have to have a wet saw. And if you have a friend who you can borrow one from…woot! Although don’t forget to put towels on the floor (as your friend suggested, but you forgot) because the saw spits water and ground tile, and you end up with a nasty puddle of gray gritty gunk all over the floor.

 5. Junky clothes. It’s so, so worth it to take the time to put on work clothes. Otherwise, halfway through the project you to say to the artist, “Uh, please tell me you aren’t wearing your good jeans…” Silence ensues. Thankfully, I’ve got a big box of Oxi-clean.

Next, step: Grouting.

Here's a close-up of the tiles, sink, and counter. (BTW, the garbage disposal has a magnetic collar to prevent silverware from getting chewed up. How cool is that?!)

Friday Five: Living with a Nasty, Incurable, Rare Disease

Yes, living with a nasty, incurable, rare disease is horrible. It is also very funny. Or, perhaps, I have a gallows sense of humor.

 (Before I start this, let me say, since I’ve received my diagnosis, all my doctors have been infinitely kind and caring. I wish all the doctors before the diagnosis had been the same. But that’s another story.)

 How doctors respond to me and Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome.

 When I meet a doctor for the first time, they usually have not looked at my chart. I understand—too many patients, too little time. After greeting me, they say, “So what brings you in today?” I smile my I-hate-to-do-this-to-you-smile and say “I have Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome.” Doctors respond in many ways.

 1. The doctor blinks. He/she blinks because the diagnosis rings a vague alarm bell in their mind. But only a vague one. The doctor makes polite conversation and excuses themselves. While I wait, they are Googling EDS on “Google for Doctors.”

 2. The doctor is disconcerted by getting stuck with an Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome patient. “So, you have ED…”

I try really, really hard not to laugh. In some alternate, doctor world, maybe ED is an acronym for EDS. But in the patient world, ED stands for something else, and I don’t have it.

 3. They pale. My favorite response is the doctor who said, “I read about it in medical school. So, um, why don’t you tell me whatever it is you need, and I’ll greenlight it.”

 4. They try to fix me before they know what’s wrong. These are the doctors who look at my medications list before they look at my diagnosis.

 Doctor: You are on a lot of medications. How do you feel about that?

Me, I feel @#!#? about it, but I say: Well, I have Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome.

Doctor: Oh, right. Good. So, these medications are propping you up.

Me: Yep.

5. The doctor pulls up my x-rays: Doesn’t say a word because he/she is gasping. A second later, he/she is figuring out how to pretend they didn’t gasp.

 I know it’s a Friday Five, but this is your lucky day because I have six.

 6. The doctors perform a procedure (or surgery): These always go wrong. Really, really wrong. When I am awake for the procedure—not often the case—but when I am, I hear the assisting resident say to the other doctor, “Did you see that? What the *%#* happened?”

I tried to warn them beforehand. Honest, I did.

Nota Bene: I included the cute zebra photo because zebras are the mascot for EDS. The photo is from Wikimedia Commons.

Friday Five, Five Signs You're Been Editing Too Much

1. When people speak, you see their words in your head and you’re correcting them with your mental red pen.

2. You look at the calendar and freak out. “How come no one told me it was Christmas in less than two weeks?!” (Somehow the ten foot tree in the living room wasn’t a big enough sign.)

3. The house, which was pristine and bleach-fresh at Thanksgiving time, now needs a visit from the Health Inspectors.

4. You now speak in metaphors and similes. So instead of saying, “Dude, clean your room.” You say, “My son, your room looks like a tornado hit Goodwill. It needs to be an island of tranquility. Please, see to it.”

                        ~And worse, after saying it you pause and spend fifteen minutes

                        trying to improve the metaphors/similes because they suck.

5. You consider writing a letter to the city government explaining the error in the bumper sticker, “This vehicle responds to emergencys.” (I mean, really, don’t these people use spell check?)

Friday Five, Why I'm Not in the Kitchen Today

Yesterday I was in the kitchen. Today I’m steering clear because my children are cooking. Keep in mind that these are adult children. This is what I’m hearing.

1. “Uh, Mom, I was supposed to separate the eggs and whip the whites. But I’ve already mixed the eggs in. What do I do?”

2. “What does soft peaks mean?”

3. “Can I immerse the wafflemaker into the sink to wash it?”

4. “Hey, I can fix a measuring mistake by using modular arithmetic. Cool.” 

   (FYI: I use math when I alter a recipe too, but I call it “addition and subtraction.”)

5. “Uh, Mom, I was making crepes, and, well, looked at the wrong recipe. I’ve got a bowl full of flour tortilla dough.”

Five Ultimate Battles

Friday's five this week is ultimate battles. When my boys were younger and their friends came over, sometimes we'd discuss ultimate battles and who would win. So here are my thoughts. Feel free to disagree in the comments.

1.Voldemort vs. Saruman

I think this is the most interesting battle. Evil sorcerer vs. evil sorcerer. My guess is that Voldemort takes Saruman. Even though Saruman has the orcs and the Uruk-hai, Voldemort would use the imperius curse and they’d end up toasting Saruman.

2. President Snow (The Hunger Games) vs. the White Witch (Chronicles of Narnia)

This is one is hard to call. Two very different styles of evil. But I couldn’t resist the two winter themes. My guess is that the White Witch takes President Snow. After all, I don’t see anyone breaking her wand. But I’ve no question that President Snow escapes at the last moment.

3. Old Captain Kirk vs. New Captain Kirk

Old Captain was tough and always in control. But I’m guessing in a battle new Captain Kirk wins—he’s more unpredictable and I think he’d out think old Captain Kirk. (And the fact that Chris Pine is more handsome than William Shatner has nothing to do with it.)

4. Black Widow (Avengers) vs. Eowyn

This is a tough one. Their styles are so different. The Black Widow is conniving, volatile and strong. Whereas, Eowyn is completely forthright in her desires and plans.  And even though I honestly think Black Widow could take Eowyn, I’m giving the win to Eowyn because she’s one of my favorite characters, feminine and tough.

5. Ziva David (NCIS) vs. Zoe Washburne (Firefly)

This last one I’d like your help in determining the winner. In my book, their styles aren’t hugely different. Ziva definitely has Mossad training on her side. But Zoe is Zoe.

So what do you think?


BTW, I released the cover art for "Screwing Up Mongolia," a Screwing Up Time short story. If you'd like to see it, click here.

Friday Five: What I'm Missing

My daughter and son both moved to grad school recently. Here’s what I’m missing.

1. Girl time. My daughter Ariel and I always used to talk while we did manis and pedis. Now, I’m not sure what the point is. And, of course, now that I don’t care, my nails look gorgeous.

2. Eaters. Okay, this is mostly my son Luke. But, wow, do we have leftovers! I made a “normal” amount of herbed chicken last week, and I’m still trying to pawn it off as lunches and snacks on the remaining kids. “Look, nachos with extra protein!”

3. Chemistry explanations for normal life. Luke’s the only person I know who can make salad dressings that don’t separate—apparently, you need the proper amount of binder (?). But, he’s still my go-to guy for getting stains out. Email from me: “Hey, Luke, how do get price tag glue off of fabric?” Reply: “Rubbing Alcohol.”

4. Thrifting. Ariel is an expert thrift shopper. When I walk into a thrift store, I’m overwhelmed by the racks of disorganized chaos (and the weird smell). So I walk behind her while she picks over the racks and hands things to me to try on. When I try picking something off the rack, this is what happens. She raises an eyebrow and says, “That’s 1980s. You know that, right?” Me, “Of course, I do, baby. I was just…testing you.”

5. Quiet. Before we had six people in a small house, which meant we were always bumping into each other. Literally and figuratively. Now everyone has their own space. I feel like we’ve morphed from Toula’s family in My Big Fat Greek Wedding where everyone was into each other’s business into Ian’s family where they sip brandy and you can hear a pin drop.

Okay, not quite that quiet. We still have two teenage boys, a Lab, a bird, a hamster, and two guinea pigs. Not even close to that quiet. 

N.B. If you haven't visited "Writerly Wednesday" on Crystal Collier's blog, there's still a chance to play "Two Truths and a Lie" and win swag.

This image has nothing to do with my post, but I couldn't help posting it. It's amazing, and I love raptors. The photo is by Martin Falbisoner and is courtesy of Wikimedia

Friday Five, Raindrops Keep Falling

I know many parts of the country are suffering from a terrible drought. I wish I could give them some of our rain. We’re seventeen (yes, 17) inches above normal.

Most of the time, I love rain. It fact, I love the extra 17 inches. Except that those extra inches are coming into my house. Normally, when there's excess water we have a basement issues. This time, it's the roof.

And it wasn't, "Oh, look, there's a water spot on the ceiling." It was, "Oh, look, the shelf of books from the 1800s is swimming in water and the books are ruined. And, "Oh, look, another room has water dripping down the walls." And "Oh, look, the area around the fireplace in our bedroom in leaking and water is dripping down one of Cal's paintings."

So we called roofers, and they inspected. (I didn’t really expect to have roofing problems since we had the roof stripped down to the decking and replaced just over six years ago.) In any case, according to the new roofers—not the losers who did our re-roofing—we have a section of roof that needs to be replaced, leaks that need patching, and flashing that needs to be redone because the original roofers did it wrong.

They made an appointment to come on Tuesday or Wednesday. It’s Friday, and they still aren’t here.

So I’m beginning to wonder why. Here are my theories.

1. The roofers have no plans to fix the roof. They have a sadistic need that forces them to go from house to house stressing out homeowners on the state of their roofs.

2. My children are paying the roofers money to stay away so they can find out how long it takes me to “snap” due to the stress of having books, furniture etc., stacked all over the house to protect them from water damage.

3. The roofers are waiting for the next deluge so they can charge extra for working in the rain.

4. Since my laptop is now fixed (even the repair people are surprised it’s working), I need a new source of patience-producing frustration.

5. The roofers are in cahoots with builders and they’re waiting for a good case of rot to set in. Or mildew. Or paint damage—oops already got that.

Maybe we need to rethink our roof and go with this. But I wonder how you’d mow it. Or do you have to buy a goat and let him do the trimming?

Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

Friday Five

My computer is currently is the shop for repairs--apparently, it has a bad motherboard.

So for today's Friday Five, the five worst things about not having a computer.

1. Having to mooch a computer.

2. Remembering that mooched computer does not have my favorite's bar nor do any any of the sites I visit regularly "remember me" on the mooched computer, so I have to try to remember all my user names and passwords. Do you know how many combinations there are of the four or five user names I regularly use and the four or five standard passwords?

3. Mooched computer does NOT have MS Word, so I can't write!!

4. Mooched computer was rejected by my children because it's out-dated, has no useful software, and has tilted screen--I think I'm getting a crick in my neck.

5. Did I mention mooched computer does NOT have a word processor, so I can't write?!

I'm telling myself that it's a blessing because I can now get caught up on yard work. But I'm not believing it.

Friday Five: Most Quotable Movies

Friday Five: Most Quotable Movies

1. The Princess Bride

            “He’s only mostly dead.”

             “Have fun storming the castle, boys.”

             “Life is pain, Highness. Anyone who says differently is selling you something.”

2. You’ve Got Mail

“Don’t you think daisies are the happiest flower?”

“You thought Frank was the Una bomber.”

“That caviar is a garnish.”

3. The Bourne Identity

           “If you’re going to kill me, you better kill me the first time. You better kill me dead.”

           “How could I forget about you? You’re the only person I know.”

           “Kill Wombosi? We can do that any time we want. I can send Nikki to do that…”

4. Sahara

          “I don’t speak English…I only know how to say ‘I don’t speak English’ in English.’”

          “I’m so tired of being shot at.”

          “Hey, you know how it is when you see someone that you haven't seen since high school, and they got some dead-end job, and they're married to some woman that hates them, they got, like, three kids who think he's a joke? Wasn't there some point where he stood back and said, "Bob, don't take that job! Bob, don't marry that harpy!" You know?”

5. My Big Fat Greek Wedding

        “Don't play with the food! When I was your age, we didn't have food!”

       “What do you mean he don't eat no meat…Oh, that's okay. I make lamb.”

       “Let me tell you something, Toula. The man is the head, but the woman is the neck. And she can turn the head any way she wants.”

       And one more for the road.

How to Steal a Million

      “I was chipping a piece of your father’s paint from that lovely Van Gogh when you loomed up in your nightie and shot me in the arm.”

What about you readers, any favorite movie quotes?

Friday Five

Here’s a peak into our home—five statements that Kellers made this week.

1. Ariel was complaining about a proof for Modern Algebra. Luke told her, “Next semester take Post-Modern Algebra, and you won’t have to write any proofs.”

2. This election is the first time Jacob will vote. So he’s been avidly watching political pundits and quoting them to us. “Candidate X will steal your money, burn your house, and kill your cat. I’m Candidate Y, and I approve this message.”

3. I was singing along to a song in the car. Luke said to me, “That’s a heinous song.” I said, “No, it’s not. It’s about the transitory-ness of life and enjoying the one you love. Death could be around the corner.” Luke said, “Uh, Mom, the song’s about a one-night stand.” Me, “Oh…now you’ve ruined it for me.”

4. Matt’s learning to drive. “Wouldn’t it be cool if they made semi-automatic cars? Then you’d be able to change gears without using a clutch.”

5. “Life is like a melon. The question is whether you’re the fleshy part or the rind.” I’m not sure what this is supposed to mean, but it’s the kind of thing Matt says as walks through the house.

Image from Wikimedia

Friday Five

Favorite Five Ways to Pass Rainy Days

It’s been raining here almost all month. And, while I actually love rainy days and thunderstorms, it’s getting old. So for all of you who are dealing with dreary weather, here are some of our favorite ways to pass the days and nights.

1. Play games.

Of course, this leads to long discussions and negotiations because we have lots of games and lots of opinions. For example, the guys favorite game is Killer Bunnies. But I hate a game whose point is to kill the other players’ bunnies and get the magic carrot. But the boys love the cards, which read “chocolate-covered anti-matter raisins.” “Quite irascible refractable cheese balls.” “Highly explosive missile package.” Etc. But before you think I’ve taken the moral high ground, my favorite game is Guillotine, where you collect the heads of executed nobles.

2. Read aloud.

We’re currently reading aloud P. G. Wodehouse. There’s nothing like reading Wodehouse to make you smile. For example:

“I'm not absolutely certain of the facts, but I rather fancy it's Shakespeare who says that it's always just when a fellow is feeling particularly braced with things in general that Fate sneaks up behind him with the bit of lead piping.” 
― P.G. Wodehouse, Carry On, Jeeves

“She looked as if she had been poured into her clothes and had forgotten to say "when". ” 
― P.G. Wodehouse

“Freddie experienced the sort of abysmal soul-sadness which afflicts one of Tolstoy's Russian peasants when, after putting in a heavy day's work strangling his father, beating his wife, and dropping the baby into the city's reservoir, he turns to the cupboards, only to find the vodka bottle empty.” 
― P.G. Wodehouse

3. Stream Masterpiece Theater

We’ve watched Downton Abbey, Sherlock, and now we’re watching Island At War.

4. Hide under the table/bed/desk.

This is what our tough black Lab Jezebel does. She’s terrified of thunder and lightning. In fact, she won’t even come out of her hiding place to eat. So she’s lost a few pounds. Hmm. I wonder if we can market this as a diet plan—The Fabulous Lab Fear Diet. I’m sure there’s a book deal in there somewhere.

5. Hydraulic Cement Your Basement

When it rains this much, the water table rises above the level of the ground. So every crack in your basement begins to seep/trickle/fountain water. But good ole hydraulic cement will cure it. My thought is that it would be quicker and easier to give the whole basement a coat of hydraulic cement, but no one else seems to agree.

If you have any rainy day ideas, I’d love to hear about them.

And now for your Friday fun (which is number 6 on my fun-things-to-do-on-rainy-days list--watch YouTube videos).

Friday Five

Today is the last day of summer vacation for me. School starts up on Monday. I couldn’t decide whether this Friday Five should be nostalgic for the summer or looking forward to the fall and winter. So it’s both. List what you’ll miss about summer and what you are anticipating in the next few months.

1. I miss the days when I can stand outside and let the heat penetrate my skin. I always imagine that the sun’s rays are sharing their power with me. (I know that’s hokey, but it makes it easier for me to embrace the heat.) I’m looking forward to cold breezes that bite the skin and give me a zest for life.

2. I’ll miss the butterflies, snowy egrets and the hummingbirds. But bring on the freezing death of cockroaches, mosquitoes, and biting black flies.

3. I’ll miss swimming pools and the ocean. On the other hand, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.

4. I’ll miss homemade ice cream, cranberry juice popsicles, and watermelon. But it’s time for steaming hot chocolate made from dark chocolate cocoa.

5. I’ll miss getting up whenever I want (I hate alarm clocks). But there’s nothing like watching the pink of sunrise streak the sky.

What are your Friday Five?

Friday Five

Today’s Friday Five is movie lines. Not the greatest ones like “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.” Or insanely stupid ones like “I like smooth things.” (Anakin Skywalker—in case you don’t remember).

But movie lines that you end up quoting...just because.

1. “Don’t you think that daisies are the friendliest flowers?” from You’ve Got Mail. We have daisies in out garden simply because of that line. It’s actually a dumb line, but I find myself saying it anyway.

2. “Gentlemen, the man who folded this tube of toothpaste isn’t looking for buff.” From Sneakers. Spoken by the female math-genius musician that Robert Redford loves. (Cal is a toothpaste tube folder. He wasn’t looking for buff either. Just saying.)

3. “Hair can’t be healthy, it’s dead.” From Proof spoken by a math genius played by Gwyneth Paltrow (You gotta love those movies about female math geniuses.)

4. “It tis Wednesday, Harold.” From Stranger Than Fiction, spoken by a tolerant semi-crazed Russian woman. (STF is my all time favorite movie, which also has great lines like: “Would that be the letter that begins ‘Dear Imperialist Swine?’” and “’Little did he know?!  I taught a whole class on ‘Little did he know.””)

5. “Plasti-cakes. Made from 100% food-like polymers.” From Buzz Lightyear Saturday morning cartoons. My kids say this on the rare occasion that I serve something that’s not made from scratch.  For example, Me: “We’re having apple-turkey sausages.” Keller inhabitant: “Yum. Made from 100% food-like polymers.”

What about you?  What movie quotes do you find yourself using?

Friday Five plus one

Friday Five

Luke and Ariel finished their finals yesterday. I remember that there was always a surreal feeling afterwards. What are/were your five favorite things to do after exams are over?

1. Sleep in. Yesterday, Luke and Ariel announced they were sleeping in. Except they didn’t. They were both up earlier than during the school year.

2. Watch a movie. We saw The King’s Speech. When I was in college, my friends and I went to see Cinderella—lame, but this was in the days before the ubiquity of VHS.

3. Eat junk food. We had candy bars. Cal ate his in the first two minutes, then he wanted part of mine. I’m very protective of my peanut M&Ms. And selfish. I didn’t give him any.

4. Wrestle. Personally, I’ve never done this. But Luke and Matt have been wrestling almost constantly, though in all fairness, Matt is the instigator.

5. Clean. Personally, I’ve never had to clean after exams—I dealt with exam stress by cleaning. My room/apartment was always pristine during exams. Ariel’s room is also cleaner than it’s been in a long time. Luke, who’s normally neat, must have exploded something in his room—clothes, papers, books, notecards everywhere. He announced that he is cleaning this morning.

6. Yeah, I know this is supposed to be five, but I couldn’t resist. Number Six is Act Totally Weird. Matthew is currently practicing the piano and he and Luke are “singing.” Actually, they’re moaning in tempo to Dussek’s Sonatina and they’re calling themselves The Moaning Musicians.

Friday Five

I’m no longer keeping track of how many days I’ve been sick—it’s a ridiculous number. Anyway, I’m back to reading after having my fill of Netflix, synopsis writing, and query tidying.

I finished Jane Eyre yesterday. I had plowed through most of it very quickly. And then I hit the section where Jane meets St. John (if you haven’t read the book, it’s the name of a man who’s her cousin and wants to marry her). Ugh. That section dragged on and on. I had to force myself to read it. Of course, as soon as Jane bailed on St John, the narrative picked up and I was hooked again. I suspect Ms. Bronte could have used a bit of judicious editing at that point. (I know, I speak sacrilege to some—sorry.)

Now I’m trying to decide what to read next. My only two rules are:

1. It has to be a classic.

2. It can’t be Russian. Don’t get me wrong, I love the Russians. But they make me so depressed, and that’s not fair to my family. My plan is to read the Russians when the kids are grown.

I’ve read a ton of classics—I was a lit major back in the day when each class required the reading of one to two novels/oeuvres per week. It was like drinking from a literary firehose. But there are still so many great books that I haven’t read. So in the manner of the Friday Fives, which I haven’t done in a longer time (Sorry, Andrew), here are the choices that I’m considering:

1. Don Quixote—Cervantes (When Ariel was assigned this for a class, she read portions aloud to me. Hilarious and clever.)

2. Vanity Fair—Thackeray (I don’t think I’ve ever read anything by Thackeray.)

3. Tender is the Night—Fitzgerald (I’m a FSF fan, but I haven’t read this one.)

4. The Moonstone—Collins (Arguably the first mystery novel ever written)

5. The Picture of Dorian Gray—Wilde (I love Wilde’s wit.)

Readers, help me, which shall I read? BTW, if you have a personal favorite that’s not up here, feel free to list it. If I haven’t read it, I’ll consider it.

Friday Five

It's almost Christmas time.  Yay!   In light of that, what are your five favorite holiday foods?

Here are mine.

1. Country ham (A completely smoked ham--i.e., doesn't need to be refrigerated--that has to be soaked for three days and boiled for eight hours and then baked in a crust).

2. Fruitcake

3. Advocaat (My mother is from the Netherlands, and it's a Dutch drink.)

4. Raclette (This is a Swiss/French New Years tradition.  My aunt and uncle are Swiss. Raclette involves really good cheese, melted in a special pan and poured over potatoes, meat, onions, pickles, etc.)

5. Coconut-rum pie.  Very Yummy.

Friday Five

I was thinking the other day about these wonderful excuses I’d once read about why someone’s homework was late. They were all written in Latin. One was, my goat ate my homework. Another, the Gauls stole my homework. My favorite, Hannibal’s elephants trampled it. I could share these with you in Latin, but I’d have to translate them myself and I’m tired. Sorry. Anyway, today’s Friday Five is your favorite missing homework excuses.

1. The Yankees were on last night. (Sorry. I had to get that it. They’ve won their first two playoff games. Woot!)

2. I got caught in a dimensional rift. (Or, I was preparing for the zombie apocalypse.)

3. I spilled soda on it. Luke actually turned in soda-soaked homework to a prof last semester. He apologized. She said not to worry. She once turned in homework that her cat peed on. Okay, then...


4. I was too busy saving the universe. My kids always use this when I tell them it’s time to get off the computer. “But mom I’m saving the universe from the Empire/Klingons/Mordor/Turks/Byzantines/Imperial Remnant/Disciples of Ragnos.”

5. All time most abused excuse. My dog ate my homework. This actually happened to Jacob. One morning we found our dog Jill contentedly munching through Jacob’s math homework.

What are your favorite excuses?