About a thousand years ago, I took a CIS 101 class (computer information systems).  Computers were fairly new to the general populace and I felt that I needed to be prepared for the Bold New World ahead of me.  (Besides, it was a required class)

Our first assignment was to write a “Hello World” program in GW Basic.  I remember following the instructions we were given and everything worked out exactly like it was supposed to.  Then I lifted my head and looked around at my classmates.  None of them had yet managed to even come close to completing the assignment. 

Obviously, I had done something horribly wrong.  So I deleted what I had done and did it again…and again…and again.  Somehow I always managed to come up with that same silly solution.  Finally, the instructor saved me from myself when he  strolled by and told me that he was impressed with my grasp of the subject. 

It didn’t take long to realize that my understanding of computer programming (not to mention computers in general) didn’t go much beyond that one simple bit of code.  Indeed, it was all downhill from there.  Fortunately for me, I married a man that lives and breaths computers and haven’t had to worry about it since. 

When I first entered the blog world, I was on my own.  Fortunately, hosted blogs are fairly easy to to tweak.  For the most part, you don’t have to know an ounce of programming to use one.  I’ve been very happy in my sheltered little cocoon of a blog.  All of that changed a couple days before Christmas when Shaun presented me with my very own domain name and a place to host it. He even moved most of my content over to the new website. 

Now,  it would be simple enough to just leave things as they were, but somehow that just seemed wrong.  After all,  the whole point of switching to a self-hosted site is so that you would have total control of what your blog does and looks like. 

So, armed with a stack of books and online tutorials I set about creating a place that I could happily call home.  Despite the fact that everything I read boasted about how easy it was to use this software…it made my eyes glaze over and my head ache.  My brain spun with terms like SEO, widgets, domain mapping, plugins, FTP, php coding, parameters… I soon realized that I needed to find a prequel to the WordPress for Dummies book. 

When the first template I was trying to tweak kept breaking, it seemed only natural to go to my own personal Computer Guru and beg him to just do it  for some assistance.   Shaun merely laughed and told me he only knew how to write code in C++ and C#. (Because I totally know what those are and totally believe he can’t figure anything else out in two minutes or less.  I get the feeling he’s practicing some Tough Love on me.)  So…I’m still struggling to figure this thing out out on my own.

I plan on making the Grand Reveal on New Year’s Day.  I don’t promise anything spectacular.   In fact, I don’t promise anything at all!   However, if things go as planned,  I hope to welcome you all to my new little home on the web.

I hope you will join me…

Late last week, KT sent me a text asking if she could have a Christmas party on Monday. I thought about it for a moment then responded “Sure.  What did you have in mind?” I didn’t think much of it when I didn’t hear back from her.  I was busy and I knew we would have time to talk that evening.  When I arrived home a couple hours later, KT gleefully told me that she had invited twenty five of her closest friends and sixteen had already committed to coming.  Rather amused at KT’s neglect of discussing the party plans with me, I asked for more details.  She informed me that they were all coming at 2:00, decorating cookies, playing games, watching Christmas movies and just hang out.  Realizing that she had everything planned out, I just told her to let me know if she needed anything for me and watched her go. 

Over the next few days I watched my girl (dragging her baby sister along for company) shop for tablecloths, extra white elephant gifts, cookie toppings and snacks.  She looked up punch recipes and borrowed a punch bowl to put it in, she looked up gift-exchange games and bought prizes, she cleaned the house.  The only thing she asked from me was to make cookie dough (which a couple of her friends would come early and help her bake)  and frosting…oh and to lend her my debit card.

I’m currently hiding out in my room listening to the joyful laughter of approximately a zillion teens simply enjoying each others company.  I’ve been coming out every once in a while…just to say hello…. to make a pizza run…to judge a cookie contest…for the most part I’ve just been giving them their space.  I know most of these kids.  Some since kindergarten, some just for a year or two.  It struck me tonight, that they’ve all grown up.  They aren’t kids anymore…heck, they don’t even look like kids anymore.  

I have to admit that I cringed when KT turned 18 just over a week ago.  She’s now legally an adult.  I always thought that this would make me sad.  This realization that our girls would grow up, become independent and leave us to make their own way in the world.  Amazingly…it doesn’t.  To my utter amazement, what I feel is not grief…but pride.  I am so very proud of how well our children have turned out.   After all, isn’t it the goal of every parent to raise a  confident, independent child?

To think…all it took was a simple little party to make me realize this.  

He’s our new baby! 

This summer, when we had taken my nephews to some sort of kid’s play space, a woman came up to me and started to tell me all her woes that resulted in some career decisions her husband had made.  My sister-in-law, Patti,  heard the tail end of it and seemed astounded at what this woman was telling me.  After the woman went on her way, Patti wanted to know if I knew that lady.  I responded that I had never seen her before in my life. 

As far back as I can remember, people have just told me things.  Strangers, friends, mere acquaintances…so many of them find their way to me and unburden themselves.  I don’t know what it is about me, maybe I seem safe or comforting, but I hear a lot of things that most people are clueless about.   So many things are shared with me…yet…I don’t share with others.  I have no  problems at all about sharing all the silly, unimportant things that happen in my life…it’s the real things that make me tight-lipped.  If something is bothering me, I have a tendency to hunker down.  I just want to be left alone to lick my wounds and wait until the skies are sunny again.  I realize that’s not the healthiest way to handle things…that’s how I seem to do it though. 

I’ve been trying to blog. I remembered during NaBloPoMo how much I truly love to blog.  Goodness knows there is so much that has been happening in this busy month of December.  I have a whole list of things that I want to record.  We’ve had birthdays, setting up the tree, dumpster diving…all sorts of silliness.  Yet, try as I will, the words simply won’t come.  I think that I need to record the sadness that is in my heart right now.  If not for you, Dear Reader, then for myself.  Then maybe I can start to let it go.

A week ago today, my cat died.  Some would say that wasn’t such a big deal.  After all, Taigoo was eighteen and a half years old…she’d already lived way longer than anyone ever thought she would…it was her time.  I would’ve been fine with this…except for the fact that about a week before that, our beloved dog Shelly, had died.   We had no idea she was so ill and her unexpected death was really hard on all of us. 

The deaths of our two family pets seemed to jar something in me…feelings that I thought I had suppressed deep inside of me.  The bone-deep knowledge that life is fleeting.  I keep thinking back to earlier this year when my strong and robust father laid small and frail in a hospital bed for nearly two weeks.  He was fighting a  horrible infection and complications from what should have been a simple surgery.  I keep thinking back to calling 911 then watching Shaun being rushed to the hospital in an ambulance.  Against the doctor’s wishes, I watched his body jumping on the table as his heart was restarted. 

These are things that I haven’t really shared because I thought they were my cross to bear.  I’ve just kept it buried deep inside like I always do.  I had no idea, until my sweet Taigoo Cat died how much it was really eating me up inside.   Please forgive me for Being Real…it’s something I’m going to try to do if I ever need to do so again.   I’m not, by any means looking for sympathy.  I’m just hoping that writing this will be cathartic  for me.  I don’t want to go looking for some woman with kind-looking eyes to spill my sorrows to. 

Hopefully I can finally wipe away my tears and get back to being my usual goofy self.  Just know…if I get quiet again…there’s something going on, and I’m not being real…feel free to call me on it…

Edit to Add:

Thank you…all of you…so very much for your kind words of support and encouragement both here and privately.  It really means so much to me.   Interestingly, I find that my heart truly is lighter.  I don’t know it that is from the support you all have shown to me, or from the simple act of writing it down and letting go.  Either way…thank you once again. ~S

KT just walked by Mimi’s room and was asked to reach in and turn Mimi’s light off for her.  In true sisterly fashion, KT told her sister to turn it off herself.  “But it’s my biiirrthhhday” Mimi wailed. 

“Only for another half an hour” KT snapped back. “You better be really nice to me on my birthday”

Title apologies to Donny Osmond…I just couldn’t help it! (Did anyone else hope he’s showcase purple socks on dwts?)

It all started back in October…no, I take that back…I think it really started way back in June or July.  That’s when I was asked if I would be willing to change the format of my parent/child cooking classes to reflect the season.  Of course I  agreed, I’m pretty much open to anything.  (That’s how I fell into this whole thing in the first place…who would’ve thunk…ME…teaching cooking!)

All summer long, I fretted about these classes.  I scanned recipes online, in magazines and in every cookbook I could get my hands on.  My selections had to perfectly fill the time slot, be easy enough for a small child, yet interesting enough to please the adult.  No small task for someone like me.  Thankfully,September’s apple class was a huge success.  In fact it was so successful that an extra day of classes needed to be added for the following months.

October was pumpkins. Not being a huge pumpkin fan, I had no idea there were so many things you could do with it.  Pumpkin cream cheese dip, pumpkin pie, bread, cookies, ravioli…so many wonderful things.  Unfortunately, for me…they all  seemed to have the same icky taste.  The pumpkin cooking creations wasn’t my downfall…nope…it was the Pumpkin  Patch.  (Sadly, I never took pictures).  I realized that more than anything, I loved the wonky pumpkins. 

  The perfect pumpkins you could find outside every grocery store never did a thing for me.  These pumpkins…these natural, warty,  funky colored, non-genetically engineered, Charlie Brown Pumpkins…they wormed themselves right into my heart. 

I had set aside a part of one class for the kids to go out and choose a pumpkin or two from the Pumpkin Patch.  Other children from the community were also invited to join in on the fun.  Unfortunately, it was pouring rain that day, and the turn out was good, but not great.  (You know it’s raining hard when seasoned Seattle-ites stay inside)  I was so sad for all orphaned pumpkins that weren’t going to find a home.  So…I started to adopt them.

I realized that I might have a problem when KT looked at me in exasperation one day and asked me if I knew that I had seventeen pumpkins.  (Who goes around counting pumpkins???)  I just rolled my eyes at her and decided not to tell her about the four more that were still in the Jeep. 

I thought I was very gracious when I sacrificed some of my beloved pumpkins and allowed them to be carved into Jack O’ Lanterns.  (Do you see the elephant that Shaun and KT created? I know it’s obvious, but it the small one in the middle) My family was ready for the pumpkins to find a new home after Halloween, but I claimed we needed to wait until after Thanksgiving.  Lucky for me (and my pumpkins)  that wasn’t until the end of November. 

Yesterday was the second of December…and it was also yard waste day.  I reluctantly loaded up my poor orphan pumpkins in to the bin and hauled it up to the street.  (I really shouldn’t have been too surprised to find that they were starting to rot and mold on the bottom)  My poor porch looks so empty and forlorn now.  I’m not quite sure what to do for it. 

Hmmm…it’s December…the only time of year you can get away with a wonderfully gaudy display of lights and tacky displays.  

I’ve got my work cut out for me…