Friday Food!

I'm getting a HazMat suit.

I have had the flu twice in my life that I can remember.

When I was about 10 years old, I had it. I remember it because of how miserable it was. I don't know if 1989 was a particularly bad flu season or not, but I had it that year. I remember lying in bed with my mother sitting with me. She was reading to me and I had to ask her to stop because listening to her was making my head hurt worse. There were lots of saltine crackers involved, as well as Ginger Ale, Thera-Flu, and chicken soup.. all of which were regurgitated.

I never thought that I would die though, so I guess it wasn't that bad, right?

I had it again last year. It sucked. Aman had it too, and that sucked. But we managed to not pass it to the kids, as far as I can remember.. so that's good.

How? Why?

We're smart.

The government isn't kidding when they talk about prevention methods such as 'wash your hands, cough into a tissue and then throw it away, avoid contact with other people, use bleach to clean household surfaces..'.

Anyway.. situations like this certainly make me thankful for things like home schooling and not having a vehicle. We're pretty much isolated as it is and the only opportunities we have for getting sick are through Aman or if we venture out of the house for church or errands.

I'm thinking that will be kept to a minimum if people in Des Moines start falling ill.

Seriously though, I think the government should just start passing out HazMat suits. Sick or not, wear the suit. It would certainly help to halt the spread of the disease right? I should work for the health department. I'm a friggin' genius.

Okay, probably not.

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If you want to read some real writing instead of this dumb drivel, go check me out at The Open End, where the first chapter of my next book has been posted. I'd love to hear what you think!

The Package

So I was over at Kids and Daiquiris and she posted this... interesting picture and challenged us talented types to go ahead and make a story about it.. I mean really. It's just begging for some creative yarn spinner to come along and truly bring it to life. As always, I'm up for the challenge.. I think. Here goes...



So there I was, dressed for prom. I know, I know.. dashing right? My date's mom had dropped her off, and she and I were waiting patiently for our friends to pick us up.. because, you know, I'm so cool that I'm about to graduate high school and I don't even have a car. So, we're waiting on the front steps of my house and this UPS truck comes barreling down the street like it's delivering a baby instead of packages.. only it swerves just before my house and runs up the embankment! Imagine, you're sitting there with your date, and all of a sudden this big honkin' brown delivery truck just comes crashing up onto the sidewalk in front of your house! Okay, I guess not all the way onto the sidewalk.. but still. Whatever.
So it comes crashing and we're sitting there, mouths agape, catching flies, watching, and this gigantic hairy man-beast thing jumps out of the back of the truck with a package and just runs off down the street! I mean, I don't know if it was Big Foot.. or Sasquatch.. or whatever they call that creature thing.. or if it was just some dude in a costume.. but damn! We were all, "Woah! Did you see that!" Unfortunately, Kim (that was my date.. Kim) couldn't get her camera up in time, I mean.. it was in her hands and all since we had just had my mom take pictures and crap.. but still, she managed to miss Mr. Beast man. Lame.
Then we heard the sirens. Yep, sirens. Apparently the cops were totally chasing this UPS truck before it crashed. I don't know why, maybe they knew about Big Foot being a stow away or maybe they just wanted to give the dude a speeding ticket.. whatever. But they pull up and hop out and start talking to the UPS dude. They weren't close enough for us to hear them though.. and the chubby one totally gave us the evil eye when we started casually walking closer.. Whatever.
So, we sit back down on the steps outside my front door.. and as if things weren't weird enough, then the front door opens and someone grabs Kim by her arm and just yanks her inside the house! What the hell?
So I get up and go inside to, wondering what the heck is going on.. and there is Sasquatch himself! or rather.. herself. Turns out she is Kim's grandma! No shit. I know.. I was shocked too.
So Grandma Big Foot unzips this costume she's wearing and pulls out this little bity sewing machine and asks if Kim would mind taking a picture of me holding it with the truck in the back ground.. so she could like, remember the moment or something. I don't know.
Anyway, she was very vague about the rest of the story.. something about Grandpa Sasquatch trying to send off her sewing machine so she'd quit making weird costumes and her car-jacking the UPS truck to get it back.. only disguised.. or something. I don't know, it all sounded kinda fishy to me...
Whatever.

A Little Homesick...

Or home and a little sick?

I don't really have anything delightful to squeeze out of my own gray matter for you today.. I'm a bit under the weather today and have a crappy headache. I'm working on reading, but can't seem to get into anything.. I have books I haven't read sitting on my shelf, but each time I start one I end up just trading for another.. *sigh*. Perhaps I should read a graphic novel instead. Those are easier.. I have a couple of Catwoman books waiting, and the latest issue of Walking Dead.. And now I'm boring you all with totally random rambling.. It's 60 degrees and sunny today and my body wants nothing to do with outdoor activity. How sad. And my poor children have a mother who can't keep up with the laundry well enough to be willing to let them go enjoy the sunshine and slather themselves with mud. Because out there? everything. is. mud.

Mud is something we didn't have a lot of in California. I mean sure.. we had 'mud'. But not like Iowa mud. Iowa has mud. Like deep, sticky, lose your boot in it mud. I'm not up for it today. Sorry kids. At least we might have some snow by the end of the week.. What a crazy state we live in.. I just love global warming.

Wow, my writing is crap today.. I guess it's a good thing I can't focus enough to work on my book (not the one I submitted.. I started another one last week..). If I did work on it, I might have to later delete anything I produced today.

Speaking of California.. my good buddy Evan brought my attention to a lovely tribute to Trader Joe's over at Laughing Squid. Hence the touch of home sickness. I heart Trader Joe's. I did ALL of my grocery shopping there when we lived in Folsom. They were awesome. Affordable. Healthy. Natural. Unique.. aaahh... I wish they'd add one here in Des Moines. I know it would be a big hit.

So, I'll shut up now.

welcome to the mid-west - culture shock!

We moved to Iowa in January of 2007. My husband was born in So CA and moved to Sacramento Valley when he was around 8 or 9, I think. I was born in MN, moved to the Bay Area when I was 4, then to the Sacramento Valley when I was 13.

We'd known for a couple years that we wanted OUT of California. It was way too expensive for our growing family and we knew that we'd never be able to afford to buy a home as long as we stayed there. Our credit was taking a swim in the toilet as it was, and it wasn't coming up for air any time soon. So, we began looking for an opportunity to leave, and prayed. A lot.

J was doing work with people in the Nashville area and there was talk of hiring full-time and relocating us to Tennessee. It gradually fell apart, the job disappeared and our home nearly did with it. All this in the weeks following Princess's birth. Praise God for kind-hearted and flexible mid-wives who were more concerned with helping me have the birth I wanted than with getting paid in a timely fashion.

J took a job (on contract) with the much avoided and dreaded Intel. We felt it was kind of inevitable for such a talented web developer/programmer who happened to live down the street from one of their largest offices. Sure, they pay well.. but they expect to OWN you. Not something we were interested in. It was a blessedly brief stint, and he managed to find other work to take him away from the dreaded blue jungle.

We continued to pray and scour the opportunities that came through Monster and that other site that I can't remember the name of.. Interview after interview in and out of California, opportunities faded away and doors were shut. My parents put their house on the market, planning on moving back to my father's home town in SE Iowa. And then J received an email from a company in Iowa. A well known publishing company that was looking for someone just his type. It seemed a long shot to us.. Iowa? I'm 'mid-western by birth' as are my parents (my father having lived in Iowa until joining the Navy at 18).. so it didn't seem too far fetched to me.. but Iowa? Still, I'd never felt like a 'Californian' and looked forward to going somewhere, anywhere, that might feel more like 'home'.

Everyone, on both ends, said the same thing when we'd announce our destination. "Iowa? Wow. That will be a culture shock!" For me, all I could imagine was a rather welcome culture shock of friendly people and actually knowing the people who live next door, perhaps a slower pace of life.. in which we might have time to stop and catch our breath now and then. Sure, I realized that 'our type' might not be the most prevalent in such a region, but I wasn't too worried about it.

After some negotiating on the contract details.. and much more prayer.. J took the job. Just over a month later, we packed up and headed east with our four children and 2 cats.. in the middle of January.

We had to take the long route, heading south (which gave us a chance to visit some of J's family in So CA before leaving the state) and then turning east through New Mexico, Arizona, Texas, Oklahoma, and then north through Kansas and Missouri into Iowa. It was a long trip, with lots of snow and ice to see along the way. The cats did surprisingly well (despite my fear that my senior feline might die from the stress).

And we arrived, on Friday the 19. The first 'good snow' of the season had just come the week before and the landscape was a dazzling wintry white. The ice storm that had knocked out power for days in MO and KS had left sparkling icicles dangling from tree branches and a good 5" of fresh snow blanketed the ground. It was quite a sight for our Californian eyes. We couldn't wait to buy some gear and dig into it!

So after checking out our house (that's another post in itself.. ugh), we headed to WalMart (bleh) to purchase our winter gear. Um..not so easy to find supplies for winter in January. Really, you need to buy such things in like October and November. By January, pickin's is slim. We started loading up a cart.. I think we may have had two.. and as we finished collecting hats, gloves, shovels, and boots, J remembered that he would need to buy something to wear to work on Monday as our belongings (moving van) would not be here by then. He selected some pants and a shirt and headed to the fitting room.

There I was at about 10:30pm with my four children and two shopping carts, waiting for my husband to try on some clothes. Princess was getting fussy and wanted to nurse. I unbuckled her from the cart and sat down on the bench in front of the fitting room counter, inviting my boys to take a seat beside me, and proceeded to 'whip it out' and comfort my tired cranky daughter. As she settled into my lap and quieted down, and older lady employee came up to me..

"You need to go in a fitting room if you're going to do that."
"I'm fine here, thank you," I replied.
"No. Some people could be offended."
"She's fine where she is," interjected the woman attending the counter.

That lady was lucky her fellow employee came to my rescue.. Still, I so wish that we had not been so busily consumed by our arrival that I may have had a chance to contact the manager of the store and speak with them about the incident. I was not being disruptive, most people didn't even know what I was doing.. she just happened to glance my way as I was hiking up one of my shirts (after all, I had a nursing tank under my t-shirt for both warmth and added discretion).

In all my years of motherhood in CA, I had never had anything but pats on the back when nursing in public. At most I may get the comment "If you're more comfortable, we have a room over there that you're welcome to nurse in.. but you're fine here too if you'd rather not move." I lived a sheltered life when it came to public nursing.. Giving me confidence and allowing me to take for granted my freedom.

Sure, there were differences we noticed upon relocating from California to Iowa. But there are people of all types, all walks of life, in both places. They're still just people. Yes, there is less paranoia here when it comes to daily living, less suspicion toward your average fellow man. And if you're walking down the street in Iowa, and say 'Hello' to someone who crosses your path, they might actually say something back.. with a smile. (Rather than look at you like you have worms crawling out of your nose.)

The homeschool group that the kids played soccer with didn't even care that our kids came wearing Punisher t-shirts or that they had weird colored hair, or that my 5yo had a mohawk. They don't care what we have pierced, or how many tattoos we have, or how we dress ("I love your free spirit!").. but heaven forbid I dare to bare my breast to feed my child in *gasp* public.