Monday, July 31, 2006

Various Updates

The trip to see my sister in Washington was great. I'll have to log on from work to post a picture, but suffice to say we all had a great time. Sparkycus went skiing for the first time and I got to be bossed around by my big sister. Glad to come home, can't wait to go back!

I wound up buying a new vehicle. A million thanks to my local Suzuki dealer for being desperate enough to get rid of inventory that they gave me almost 5k more than my Grand Am was worth so that I would no longer be a negative equity victim. I am now the thrilled owner of a 2006 Grand Vitara. I swore I would never buy a brand new vehicle, but MAN did I get a great deal! Besides, it'll be paid off when Sparkycus leaves for college. He can drive a piece of poop for high-school ('builds character!) then set off in a safer vehicle when he moves out. I'm sure by then I'll be ready for something new, anyway. Sorry, since I'm a boy I haven't taken any pictures of it.

Work is still there. I took today off for migraine therapy (sleep, drugs and later caffeine. so much so that I have the shakes so bad I look like an addict) and am going to hate myself tomorrow. Such is life, right?

We're going to Red Wing, MN for camping and a dinner cruise to celebrate my MIL's birthday this weekend. She's not camping, of course ... that's for us kids. We have crazy ideas of what's fun!

Sparkycus' girlfriend dumped him. They went to the fair with her family and he (in true "I'm practicing to be whipped" mode) did everything she said, including going on every ride possible immediately after scarfing down fresh cut fries and lemonade on a hot day. Needless to say, he barfed on a ride. Her Dad called to let us know we needed to come pick up Senor Pukester and she was nowhere in sight. 'Little bitch didn't even have the common courtesy to stay with him until his ride came. I know, I know, she's in junior high. I don't care. (see Mama Bear reference in
previous post.) Three gueses who won't go near fresh cut fries or lemonade anymore?

The mock orange propogation mocked me. Hardcore. Instead, we put our man-eating lillies (seriously, they're like 4 feet tall and wrap around your legs when you pass) from the front walk to the spot I had planned on planting the mock orange's in. It seemed to have worked, and I planted some pansy-ass girly flowers in that bed instead. Man, what I would give to have a handyman ... well, handy. 'Somebody who would take one look, know what to do and just take care of it. Sometimes I think being an adult really, really bites.

I was going to post a picture from our family outing on the 4th of July but Blogger is being a bizzatch. I hope everyone's 4th was as great as mine. It served as a reminder that we need to do things as a family more often that don't involve my "we can do "X" after we accomplish "Y & Z" edict.

When A Neighborhood Starts To Feel Like Home

I was wondering what to write about when I glanced out the front window to see my neighbor, Emily, playing basketball by herself ... just like the first time we met her.

Sick and tired of the home my husband had purchased while still a bachelor, I strong-armed him into looking at a couple of open houses on the far north side of town one Sunday afternoon. When we saw the sign pointing toward what we thought for sure would be a snooty neighborhood, he balked.

"Come on," I cajoled, "it won't hurt anybody to look."

We turned the corner and there she was. The cutest little 11 year-old girl shooting baskets in her driveway, directly across the street from the open house. As we pulled to the curb, her missed free-throw rolled to the street.

"Hi," (I'll talk to anyone) "Is this a good neighborhood?"

Face lighting up, she tucks the basketball under her arm and puts her hand on her hip, nodding enthusiastically.

"It is! All the people are real nice and there's a school around the corner!"

Two initial mortgages, the trials and tribulations of renting out the other house to a pair of complete butt-nuggets, two refinances, astronomical winter heating bills and six years later, I'm still glad we're here.

Emily has graduated high school. They had her party in the backyard just like they did for her older sister two years ago and just like they'll have her brother's four years from now. Of course, when she shoots baskets now, she keeps the phone next to her. Now when a car comes by, she looks to see if it's someone she knows, someone she loves. Now a boy pulls up in an SUV. She gives him that billion-megawatt smile and they sneak a kiss before going through the garage to the backyard.

It breaks my heart to think of her going off to college, but it also makes me realize that this place has become home. For all of the unfinished and unstarted projects, for all of the hardship to keep Sparkycus in this school district and close to the performing arts school that has become his passion, for the trip to the heart of town that has become a 25-minute trek, this place has become home. And it all started with a little blond girl playing ball.