So we went to our friend's memorial on Saturday. First we had the funeral mass. Those things are long but you've gotta do them to make sure your loved one gets into heaven.

Then we had the viewing at the funeral home. You wouldn't believe this place. (Well, maybe you would. I don't know.) I have experience only at the Catholic cemetaries. This place looked like a hotel. Huge lobby with armchairs and sofas and lots of windows, with a reception desk - seriously just like a hotel.

Then you go to each wing and you walk through several living rooms with different seating areas, coffee tables, nice lamps, etc., before you get to the chapel. We filled the chapel and spilled out into the living room. People spoke for 2 hours and could have gone on longer. G was the only non-family member to speak, and he did a great job. R was a musician as well as a doctor, and he encouraged lots of his younger siblings and cousins to pursue music. A few of them wrote songs in his honor and performed them. It was really moving. And the whole time there was a slide show of R and his family and friends. A couple of the photos had been taken at our wedding.

Then there was food in a room adjoining the chapel, I guess so you could get your little sandwich and then mosey back into the chapel to tell R how the food was. The casket was open the entire time, and the kids didn't seem weirded out by it at all. I'd never had a reception like this in a funeral home - it was actually really nice.

So. In Other News.....

A. is very into mysteries at the moment. He carries around his little Thomas notebook and counts things, saying he's collecting clues. I guess a pillow was moved recently in the living room, and A. was on the case. He found footsteps and decided it was PAPA who'd moved the pillow. It was all very dramatic and needed much documentation and Speaking! In! Exclamation! Points!

Ben screeches in a pitch that I'm sure is going to break glass someday. I admit I've had fantasies of those operations where they cut a dog's vocal cords so he can't bark. Don't come after me, BBM, I'm not in favor of those operations on dogs. But on Ben....well, let's just say sometimes it sounds like a good idea.

We bought both a refrigerator and a dishwasher tonight. We are using a refrigerator that my mom and dad bought when I was a teenager, and I'm now 41 so....it's time to put the thing out of its misery. It has really been quite the tough little soldier, though. It's still chilling and freezing like a champ, at least 25 years later. But the stripping is all worn off and I'm pretty sure it's at least 20% responsible for global warming with the energy it takes to run. And stainless steel is going to look better in our kitchen.

The dishwasher has gotten tired and has recently been trying to do its job without water. I appreciate the conservation effort, but it's not getting the plates clean. So we're getting a silver one of those too. Our tiny little postage-stamp kitchen is going to be the most stylish room in the house.

Now if we could just get a new stove/oven. Tonight it took over an hour to warm up. There's no indicator on it to tell me when the temperature is right. There's no broiler. The temperature gauge is off, anyway. But hey, I'm not complaining. One (or two) appliances at a time.

AND, I now have a Home Depot credit card (so we could get an additional 10% off). That's like G having a Macy's credit card. Will wonders ever cease?

All day long, and all night too, I think of blog posts. In my head, I record what's happening immediately into blog-style prose. Except my recording equipment sucks and I can't remember any of it when I sit down to the computer. This is also why I don't get any of my longer-term projects done (like the scrapbook for my sister's birthday...back in January). I do what's right in front of me and if it's not right in front of me, it doesn't exist.

That seems to be the status quo for my brain, but complicating things in my head is that an old friend of G's died last weekend. He was a groomsman at our wedding, and was instrumental in getting G to realize his terrible mistake in breaking up with me (before we got engaged). He wasn't much older than G, and he just dropped dead of a brain hemmorrhage. Life is short, people.

So right now I'm in this state of mind where I think, "Hey, that's kind of funny. That could be a blog post," and then I think, "R. is dead." I'd planned to invite him and his wife to G's birthday dinner next weekend.

And then when I have a moment at the computer, I can't remember anything to write about. So. Until my brain kicks back into slo-mo from no-mo, I'll be a little quiet.

Just to Gross You Out

As the mother of sons, I am beginning to appreciate the Gross-Out-Factor. Today I had a cyst removed from my chest and let me tell you, it ranked way the heck up there on the GOF Scale. I won't go into excruciating detail, and I didn't take a picture (although I considered it), but here are the highlights:

Since it was on my chest, and the table was tilted slightly up, I could watch the whole thing. I expected that he'd make a small incision and then pop the thing out, like a baby (which is pretty much the sum of my experience with surgical incisions). No - you gotta pull the thing out bit by bit and carve away at the tissues around it to "release" it. Carve, carve, carve, went the scalpel. Watching him carve into my chest like a turkey on Thanksgiving was weird.

Meanwhile, he pulled the thing up and out while he carved and it felt like he was tugging at my sternum. That was weird, too. The cyst was much bigger than I'd guessed, too.

At one point, the doc must have knicked it with his scalpel, because the thing burst and squirted all over both of our faces. Yep. Top that one. That's gotta win me Gross Out Award of the Year.

So much for sparing excruciating details. Sorry. But when you're watching something so gross coming out of your own chest, you've just gotta share.

He's Cracking Me Up

A. is so high off his present-giving that he's decided he needs to wrap up random household stuff every night. Tonight I tried to talk him out of it.

Me: Honey, what makes it special is that you don't do it every night. I think you need to rest.

A: But I'm just going to wrap up one thing and then I'll rest the rest of the night.

Me: You've done enough for Mother's Day. Really.

A: Well, this is for Papa.

Me: ::::sigh::::::

(a few minutes later....keep in mind this is well after our goodnights and tucking in)

A: I need tape.

Me: What happened to the roll of tape I gave you last night?

A: I don't know.

Me: OK. Here's the last roll of tape. Don't use too much.

A: Why?

Me: Because we're running out!

A: Well, besides, I decided to go to the office store tomorrow.

Me: Oh, you did?

A: Yeah. To get some more tape. Because we're running out!

Good thing he has a plan.

Livin' on the Wrong Side of the Tracks

Tonight at dinner we were talking about how fun it will be to visit Washington D.C. when the boys are a little older. A. asked what Washington D.C. was.

Me: It's where the President lives, and they run the whole United States from Washington D.C. It's where they make all the laws.

A: (thinking)......Oh. So up there is where they make all the laws. And down here is where they break them.

Happy Mother's Day, Part II

So today's surprise from A. was an old book of G's off the bookshelf (from his wild bachelor days) and what A. described as a "dead, bumpy leaf."






Also, several drawings of hearts, and a border of typewriter-key stickers with a circle around the 2 in the middle (some sort of secret Mother's Day code).




Wow. Butt Paste, sticks, a tantra book (is he angling for more brothers or sisters?) and a dead leaf. Oh, and don't forget the old "bronzed" Nike. He's going to have a hard time topping this year.



And just because I like it, a picture he drew this week at school. "Giraffe Standing Next to Flower, 2007"

Happy Mother's Day

So we celebrated Mother's Day today because G has a wedding to go to tomorrow. Last night A was up really late in his room with paper, tape and a pen. This morning I discovered what he was working on:

He'd found a half-empty tube of Butt Paste and wrapped it up in paper and tape on which he'd written, Happy Mother's Day Love A.

Then he wrapped up two sticks he'd found in the backyard. They were good sticks and I was quite honored. He said they were good for scraping things and for hitting together and making music.

I was also surprised with breakfast in bed (pancakes with apple pieces, corn flakes and coffee), and the results of a survey G had taken with the boys.

Q: What do you like best about Mama?
A: She gives me food and plays with me.
Ben: Pink.

Q: What do you think of Mama's hair?
A: She's pretty.
Ben: Ro ro purple.

Q: What is Mama's favorite color:
A: Black and pink.
Ben: Purple.

Q: What's your favorite thing to do with Mama?
A: Play I Spy cards.
Ben: Pink.

Q: What is your favorite place that Mama's taken you?
A: Berber King. (that's how they pronounce it so now we all call it Berber King)

Q: What do you think is the hardest thing about being a Mama?
A: Putting me to bed.
Ben: Purple.

Q: What does Mama like best?
A: I think she likes me best.
Ben: Purple!

Q: What's Mama's favorite food?
A: Broccoli soup. (?)
Ben: Orange.

Tonight A. suggested that perhaps tomorrow I might like to bring him breakfast in bed. I suggested that Mother's Day continue tomorrow since tomorrow is the REAL Mother's Day. Now he's back there in his room with more paper and tape. I'm really wondering what he's cooking up.

Oh, one more thing. Last week we were told to bring in an old shoe to A's school. Friday I discovered why - they'd painted the shoe with bronze paint and filled it with candy for Mother's Day. It was very cute, but if I'd known what they were going to do with it, I would've sent a nicer shoe.

"Teacher said the moms could share the candy with their kids, if they wanted to. Teacher also said moms could keep the shoe forever and ever."

Sorry

Shoot, people, I got nothing for you. G's mother and sister came to visit. It's always much easier (for us) to have them visit here. When we visit them, we all (the four of us) have to sleep in the same room and the boys require constant supervision. Grandma is great at playing with the kids, and his sister is very sweet. So it was a nice visit, if exhausting. And it gave us a reason to clean the bathtub. We went to the zoo, SFMOMA, it was hot, and I got a blister.

Here are some links (thanks to Martini and Tucker Max):

My favorite link when I need to laugh
A few funny ones
Military Hand Signals