WAAAAAH Burger and French Cries

That's it. Party's over. M needs to come home now. I know, I know...he's a big boy.

It seems that he has dislocated his jaw. From a bout in boxing. And he did not even tell the teacher, but he did take himself to the school nurse's office, where he found that they are not allowed to touch jaws, so instead they referred him to dental sick call or something for early tomorrow morning.

Meanwhile, he can't really open his mouth big enough to eat, so he put himself on a diet of canned soup (no soup in the dining hall) and Pringles (has to suck them), and he is limiting his talking.

He will be getting a decent grade in boxing, but, Oh My! I am just happy that it will be over with for him next week.

M detests boxing. Thank goodness. But he did sign up for West Point, and when you sign up for West Point, you sign up for a six-week course in boxing. At least if you are a male you do. I had no idea...

So...what do you think we have here? Nothing other than one more case of Kid's dream = Mom's nightmare.

Guilty

So, can you believe it, 13 years to the day OJ Simpson was found *not guilty* of the cold-blooded murder of his wife and her friend, OJ was found guilty on several criminal charges including kidnapping. All I can think is "It's about time."

There was objection from some quarters, most notably the defense attorney, that the jury was judging OJ not only on this present offense, but also on his history. Such may well be the case. But this time I can't really generate too much sympathy for the losing side. In an ideal world, the jury actually would ~ and could ~ honor the instruction to disregard all but what was put before them for their particular case; of course in an ideal world, no one would ever have to go to trial at all, but especially not for something so violent and heinous as the murders of Nicole Simpson and Ron Goldman.

Apparently there are times when the justice system has to work in a flawed way for there to be any justice at all, and here is the proof. Disillusioning in a way, but then again, offering hope that at least once in a while, the truth gets another chance, and eventually, one's sins will find one out.

Guiltier man there never was.

RAIN!!!

My Man woke me up early this morning loudly whispering "It's raining!" WOW! That was definitely worth waking up for, even if it was still dark.

The steady, gentle rain, going on for the next three hours, was the longest rain we have had all summer, downgrading to a drizzle for the next several hours after that.

Now as for the rest of the day... grey and gloomy and dreary and cloudy, mist hanging in the air...the best of all possible days. I am ready to hibernate!

WhataWeekend Saturday

Saturday started dark and early. My Man was off to work by 5:30, and for M, formation (or whatever they call it) was at 9, so soon it was time for the *boys* to get up and on their way. Off they went, with instructions to let us know when they got there.

A couple of hours later we got a text from Ko: "Just left Caldwell. We passed our motel. It looks crapy." I'm not sure if he meant "creepy" or "crappy," but whichever, I was pretty sure I got the message. Not worried about it, though. As long as it was good enough for Edgar Allen Poe, it would be good enough for us. Besides, it isn't like it was the purple motel in San Antonio where we were afraid to all close our eyes at the same time. No, we are talking about the motel next door to the MoreMart in Caldwell, for Pete's sake, where people aren't worried about being murdered in their beds.

So what if our rooms were upstairs and the balcony/deck/walkway seriously sloped toward the parking lot...? There was a rail to stop us if we should happen to slide too far.

So what if the pool was green...? It wasn't full of green water; it was filled in with dirt and had green grass growing in it. Quite a sight, complete with lawn chairs around the "pool" and a ladder going down into the grass.

So what if the luggage rack/stand fell apart when I opened it...? We only had one small overnight case which fit easily on the counter next to the sink.

So what if the chair almost fell to pieces when my Man sat down in it...? He just sat quietly and didn't make any sudden moves.

So what if the water tasted nasty...? There was an ice machine outside the front door, and if you suck on ice it numbs your taste buds.

So...It was early afternoon when we arrived in Caldwell. While walking around to our room, the Gingerbread Cookie stumbled and went down with a thunk like you have never heard, right on the big middle of her forehead. Good thing babies' bones are soft, and of course I carry arnica in my purse...melted that knot right off her little head.

As soon as everyone got there, we walked over to check out the MoreMart. It was a non/super MoreMart like we hadn't seen in years, and M hadn't seen any kind of a MoreMart in years...oh, wait, I mean in almost three months...so it was fun buying snacks and colored pens and band-aids and all sorts of clearance items.

After our little shopping trip, *some* of the boys began to wrestle and roughhouse and suddenly we heard the second THUNK of the day, followed by a scream from BB1. He jumped up with his hand to his head and M noticed "He's dripping blood!" This time we had our whole medical entourage in the room: M, who in his less than two months since CBT first aid training, already has three head injuries (not his own) to his credit; Ko, an EMT presently attending paramedic school; and Gi, an ER nurse currently enrolled in nurse practitioner school. And of course we still had arnica.

Once that little glitch was taken care of we went outside for a photo op and then off to dinner and the playground. It was so much fun for me and my Man, sitting on the park bench like old folks, watching our kidlets, big and little, on the playground. Monkey bars, jungle gym, merry-go-round, swings, swirly slides, they played them all. It would have been really fun if we hadn't been quite so busy scratching and swatting at the horde of burly, belligerent, Texas-size mosquitoes.

We had an early morning the next day, so we were soon off to put our swarm of little kidlets to bed. S and Gi went home and the rest of us drifted off to our rooms. There is nothing at all quite like making memories with your family. After all, to tweak a quote from Samuel Johnson, "To be happy with one's family is the ultimate result of all ambition."

Edgar Allen Poe never had it so good.

Fresh October

Fresh October brings the pheasant;
Then to gather nuts is pleasant.

I remember this poem by Sara Coleridge not from my childhood, but from my kidlets' childhood/s. It was in a book of nursery rhymes that I read all the way through. Many, many, many times. In fact, with a 13-year difference between my first child and my last, I was probably reading the book continually for, oh...18 years or so.

Anyway, this poem is a winner! It goes through every month of the year and evokes all sorts of memories, or at least imaginings, of living with nature in the seasons ~ my favorite way to live ;-)

Oh-so-sadly, that book was one of the casualties of the floods last year, so the poem was only in my head. I couldn't quite remember every detail, and it finally occurred to me to google it last night. I found many listings for it, but alas, every one of them said "Brown October..." Brown October? I could have sworn it was "Fresh October," but page after page came up brown. Am I going crazy/er? Or is it another case of the reality not measuring up to the memory?

This morning I had an epiphany to google by the October verse instead of the January verse, which is what I did last night, and whaddya know... Right there it was: "Fresh October." Vindication!!!

It happens that brown is one of my favorite colors, but for October, for Fall, I much prefer "Fresh!"

Wild Goose Chase

Yesterday we spur-of-the-moment decided to go visit mil in Kerrville. We tried calling ahead, but no answer. Then we tried the cell phone, but still no answer. So we decided to go anyway. Good choice, huh? But it was my Man's only day off this week, and, besides, mil is ALWAYS there!!! Except for yesterday, that is ;-/

We would have easily fit into our minivan, however the a/c isn't working, and this was Texas in September, so we loaded up into D's SUV. For a big vehicle, it's pretty crowded, but we managed. All Monga had to do was contort himself into a pretzel shape while crawling in through the front door, squirm around into the back seat, and wedge his skinny little self into the back seat between the two tiny girls in their space-age (BIG) car seats. D was driving, and that left me comfortably in the front seat. Or it would have been comfortable, had I been a double amputee. The floor under my feet was full of purses, water bottles, kleenex boxes, books and homework, oh~and my feet. Well, it was only for 2 1/2 hours, and we did have the a/c. Good thing, because that's about the only thing that was right.

After an hour or two in the car I gave the phone another try. Still no answer. Hmmmm....??? Odd, but not alarming. As I said, mil is ALWAYS there, and I was sure there was a perfectly reasonable explanation. As soon as we arrived, D and I got ourselves and the babies out, Monga did his contortions in reverse, and we walked across the parking lot into the nursing home. D and I and the Gingerbread Cookie headed for the ladies' room while the others searched out mil. When we met up again in the hall, Monga and the Princess were mil-less, but they had a report. They had checked the dining room and her room, to no avail, and they didn't really know where else to look. I suggested asking someone, so we took off down the hall to the nurses' station where we were told, "She went out with Le." Ok, then.

It was noon, and remember that we had two tired, hungry, cranky little girls with us, so we decided to go get something to eat, with a stop at CVS for lots of free-coupon goodies, and then try mil and Le again. Only Le beat us to it. I told her we figured we would find her in our wanderings around Kerrville, and she said, "You'll find us in Bandera at John Grover's funeral." Uh-oh...

So. So much for visiting mil on Monday. Instead, we went to the river and introduced the little girls to a place that held lots of happy memories for Monga. They sat on the bank, throwing rocks and sticks into the river, watching it go by, occasionally trying to jump/fall in, while reminiscing on Monga's growing up. After a time of pleasant leisure, it was naptime, so we loaded everyone back in the car and headed for home.

The whole back seat was asleep before we got out of town, and the ride home was quiet and uneventful. All in all an enjoyable day, especially for a wild goose chase.

WhataWeekend Friday!

Surprise!!!

Friday night D and I were sitting at the table planning our next-day trip, the one we were taking to visit M, who was going to be 'here' at the Army/A&M game for the weekend.

It was late-ish, around 8:30 or so, I think, when the doorbell rang. D and I looked at each other. She said, "Who is that?!" as I said, "I bet it's M." So I went to the door, and there was our friend Tr, the mom of one of M's "West Point 'Texas Trio." With a BIG smile on her face, she said, "Is this yours?" And there was M!

Magnificent! Tall and handsome, sharply dressed in his 'wog' and shiny black shoes and white cover, backpack in hand, he stepped into the room, and we looked up at him. And up. And up. "Is he taller?" we wondered. Lots of all-around smiles and hugs and kisses and more hugs and pats and smiles.

M was ready to change his clothes and get comfortable, but being the last-minute trip that it was, he had not brought his duffel with him, not even a toothbrush. But no worries. We have extra toothbrushes (new ones~not those old clorox-ed guest toothbrushes Granny used to keep on hand), and as for clothes...well, we happen to have a dresser and a closet full of clothes just his size.

Off he went to change, and when he came out, he was just plain M again. D and I agreed that it must be the gig line and the stripes down the sides of his pants that made him taller. Not to mention wearing his uniform pants at his actual waist ('up to his armpits,' he would say) instead of at his hips where he usually wears his pants. Anyway. Still our own long-legged M!

We talked and laughed and caught him up on everything around here. He showed us pictures and pictures and pictures of his new life. We heard about his roommates and his classes, debate team (loves it), boxing class (hates it).

Pretty soon Ko showed up, and it was like they had never been separated. They made a midnight run to MoreMart for Oreos and Pringles, went for a ride in Ko's "new" jeep, came home and demo-ed boxing for us. EEK!!! I can hardly bear thinking of MY boy getting pounded on. And then we finally trickled off to bed. At one time I got up to see the glow of the computer coming from across the hall, and here was M sitting in the dark, fixing whatever has ailed this computer for oh-so-many weeks.

Next morning came really early. My Man was off to work by 5:30, and for M, formation (or whatever they call it) was at 9, so soon it was time for the *boys* to get up and on their way, leaving the rest of us at home to pack up and get ready for A&M Adventures, coming up!