Back to the novella I’m writing. Thank you, Mr. Vicodin.

What do you know – Vicodin doesn’t put me to sleep, doesn’t make me goofy (I could still drive, for sure), and it cuts the pain – mostly.  For a while, anyway.  It does feel somewhat like drinking an entire pot of coffee, though!

So thank you, Vicodin.  Because of you, I was able to stay up and work on my novella last night.  I won’t be sad to see you go, though.  This bad back business can’t last forever, right?

The novella is written in vignettes – short character sketches – and I’ve finished 5 so far.  I definitely will go this route, but will probably have to repeat characters to make it work.  The following is somewhat of a teaser, ad libbed.  I don’t even know if I’ll keep this man’s name, but this tidbit is from Nic, the elderly gentleman who lives in “the big house” next door to the home this young couple is currently signing papers for.  The home is in a well-established neighborhood which for generations has been comprised largely of members of Nic’s extended family.  This home in particular has ALWAYS been owned by someone in the family:

Nic

Being here at today is really bringing back…memories.  Seeing people I didn’t know come through to see the property was strange in itself, but this event has a permanence I don’t care to think about.  In all honesty, this will feel equivalent to a death in the family.  These people seem nice enough, but that house has always been ours.  The whole neighborhood has been ours since the early 1900s.

Until now.  Bit by bit our family had lost our foothold over the neighborhood, with a divorce here, relocation of the younger generation or a sudden death there.   With the sale of this home, the trend would continue. 

Like I said, this couple seems nice enough.  In this final hour I find myself desperate to make a strong connection with them.  I need them to become a part of the family – to feel very welcomed and to accept us all.  This will be my mission; I will make the other family members see that even though they aren’t blood-related, our sense of oneness can continue.  More importantly, we can keep the house, in a sense.  I owe it to my mother and her mother and all my aunts, uncles, grand-this-or that’s and to the younger generations here to do that.  In this way, we’ll keep the home in the family - not by blood, but with heart.

But my thoughts consume me.  I can see that I’m making their Realtor uneasy.  She had been making small talk with me successfully, but for the last several minutes I’ve been on a detour into deep reflection.  I can see she wonders where I’ve gone – what I’m thinking.  Best to come back to the here and now.  I can do this easily since Viet Nam – remove myself and return when necessary.  Sadly, this has come to define who I am.

I probably shouldn’t share this just yet – things tend to change a lot, and I am still going rounds with myself about exactly which direction I want to take.  In a nutshell, the book involves a young couple being welcomed into this somewhat odd neighborhood, trying to stay married while remodeling, a good chunk of missing money that was last known to be inside the home they bought, and nosy neighbors with eccentric personalities and hidden agendas.  And ghosts.  All sorts of fun stuff.

I hope I can work this thing out.  It’s very new to me, and it might take longer than I even know, but I really want to finish it.  In fact, I’m  making a promise to myself right now that I will.

So if you think I might be avoiding it because you don’t hear about the book’s progress now and then, kick me in the caboose and tell me to get back to it.  Thanks – I appreciate it!

Analyze this: The Brady Bunch brings down the house!

(this will move to Unopened Letters later on)

Last night’s dream – where do I start?  I’ll skip the boring part about painting the front of a department store that suddenly turned into my family room wall.  Here’s the second part:

I was suddenly at a club with 2 rows of stadium seating complete with ample space for short tables and a half-wall that separated the risers from the dance floor.  There were openings to the dance floor that reminded me of the ones where skaters enter the rink, but wider.  We were sitting at the tables talking when I noticed that men & women were nonchalantly bringing equipment to the stage, little by little – a microphone here, stand there, amps, guitars, drums, etc.  We didn’t know who these people were, but were intrigued.  Once they had set up, a man came out and announced the arrival of the Brady Bunch boys and their band – “Minnesota, please welcome a surprise performance from the boys from the Brady Bunch!”  Once we heard this, everyone in the club cheered loudly – there were celebrities present after all, and we wanted to show our appreciation for this surprise performance, don’cha know!  As the MC introduced them, I noticed the look on two of the “boys’” faces.  Greg from the show, who was still adjusting the lights at the edge of the stage, shot a pleasantly surprised look to another brother on the stage in response to our cheers.  The brother he looked at was actually Jason Bateman – he shot back the same look.  I remember wondering if they thought Minnesotans were desperate now because everyone cheered so emphatically for the Brady Bunch has-beens.

So the band began.  There were many musicians – probably 8-10 of them.  Jason Bateman was the lead singer and didn’t play an instrument – he just flirted with the ladies.  A couple times they faked a break, even walking away from the stage.  I noticed that one of the members still held a tambourine in her hand, and looked closer at the other members.  They had small items in their hands, too.  Before they reached the edge of the dance floor they crescendoed into another song and started  really putting on a show.  It seemed like every song was better, more upbeat and louder.  The kicker happened the third time they faked a break – they knew we were onto them, so they just half-heartedly played along.  When they reached the edge of the dance floor they picked up one of the members – a studious-looking guy – and held him like he was lounging on the beach.  Everyone but the drummer held him with one hand and held some sort of noise-maker in their other, surrounding him like the petals on a flower.  The drummer – tall, sort of teddy-bear guy with curly, disheveled, honey-blond-highlighted hair, round glasses and a bright green T-shirt, rushed over and did an awesome drum solo by hitting the instruments around him, his shoes, his hat and even the noisemakers he held himself.  It was really cool!

I noticed that the solo was coming to an end, singing needed to start soon, and the drummer wasn’t going to make it back to his set in time to keep the beat.  WRONG!  He began playing the drums from the front and continued to play as he rounded the corner to take his seat.  It was all planned.  Honestly, I woke up feeling very entertained!

So – don’t know what this means, but I tell you what – I’m sure I would have had to pay a cover to see this band.  Thanks to my brain’s unique personality, I got to sneak in the back!

For those of you who read my previous post (written a short time before this one today) the Vicodin isn’t kicking my butt as much as I thought it might.  But the pain is still there…guess that means it’s not working yet?

I wonder what dreams are like on Vicodin…

I’m broken again.

Here’s a little post before the Vicodin kicks in.  Joey & I were at Culver’s for lunch before helping dh paint when my lower back went into spasms again.  That’s the 3rd time in 2 1/2 weeks.  This is getting old.

Thank goodness for my blackberry – I looked up the number to the doctor’s office & was able to get in in about an hour & 20.  First, the wait had me discouraged.  Then I realized I was going to need that time – everything I did took 5 times longer than normal and I was waiting for a preschooler to finish a meal.  Today, we were a perfect match

Then, went straight to Target for some Advil liqui-gels, hoping they would kick in more quickly than the tablets.

Next stop, doctor’s office for some “are you okays?” from the office staff and a hefty “oh-boy” from the doctor, followed by prescriptions for Prednisone and Vicodin, and an order for physical therapy.  I left to a “keep moving – lying down will only make it worse,” and  I wondered how I was going to keep moving while I was sleeping!

Maybe Vicodin doesn’t affect me that way – I can’t remember.  I’m also “in the middle” of writing a purchase agreement for a couple I’ve been working with.  Not a good time to be broken!

To Nancy – what, are you contagious?  teeheehee.

To Mom – don’t worry – I’m still coming up for our mother-daughter weekend.  Wouldn’t miss it!  Can’t wait to eat at China Garden!

The Do

This is for my mom.  She wanted to see this

Here’s something else I can do with my new (lack of) hair:

I like doing it this way.  It’s easy.  Easy is good, especially when you don’t have hair-bending skills

Free & easy way to donate – just click!

These are tough times.  That’s an understatement.

Each day I get this in my inbox: 

Dear Supporter,

This is your friendly Friday reminder from The Hunger Site:

Make a difference today!

Click on the yellow button at The Hunger Site and give a cup of food to the hungry at no cost to you.

http://www.thehungersite.com/tpc/ERH_052209_THS

 I click on this link every day, not only to donate to The Hunger Site, but also to all of the following sites as well:

Click to Donate

My mom has purchased some of their merchandise, too, and everything she’s gotten has been high-quality.  My favorite is a gift she bought for both of us.  We like to have tea together…90 miles apart, with her at home “Up North” and me down in “The Cities.” Now we feel even more connected when we’re drinking from the same cup

"Tea Cup"

Thanks, Mom, for the link and the cup

Hair before & after pics

Well, I did it.  Yesterday morning I cut my hair and Joey & I sent it out in the mail to Pantene’s Beautiful Lengths, and organization that donates wigs to people on a sliding scale (most often free).

It’s a lot shorter than I thought it would be, but putting it in 4 ponytails instead of one big one in the back allowed us to donate even more hair.  And it grows pretty fast.

Dawson loves my hair short.  Poor guy – it won’t stay this way long.  Rachel says I look just like Jayne   Dave said he likes it too, but he always says that.  I think it’s all right, but I prefer at least shoulder length.  It will be great for summer, though!

Length before the cut (too long!)

 

Before

After

 

 

 

 

 

 

Recently Rachel told me she’s going to grow and donate her hair, too.  She would.  What a sweetie

If you’re interested in donating to Pantene’s Beautiful Lengths, cut at least an 8-inch ponytail and send it in a tightly sealed plastic bag inside a padded or plastic mailer to:

(This address is for those sending from an address in the US.  Be sure to include your name and address so they can send you a thank you card.)

PANTENE’S BEAUTIFUL LENGTHS

511 Wisconsin Dr

New Richmond WI 54017-2613

 

Someone ELSE’s kid :)

(this will move to the “Kids are Awesome” page later)

This is my first post about someone else’s child.  I guess I should have asked my mom to submit this (it’s about my “middle” brother) but I’m the one who was involved, so here goes.

When Middle Brother was about 5 or so (?) he had a quite an impressive patch of poison ivy.  It didn’t start out that way – one day there was a little bit and by mid-afternoon the next day it was all over the place.  I was babysitting so I was in charge of reapplying the Calamine lotion that day. Little people can’t seem to stop from scratching & spreading that stuff all over the place.

Cotton ball in hand, I started applying the meds to the spot between his knees where the rash had started.  Looking around, I realized that it had really spread.  It had now spread to the other leg and covered most of the area between his legs up beyond the hem of his shorts.

“This is getting really bad!  You’re just falling apart at the seams,” I said.

Middle brother looked carefully at the seams in his shorts closest to the area where I had been dabbing on meds and said, “Where?”

Ba-dum-bum.

Kids are awesome!

Now available on Amazon – Stromple & the Super-Huge Temper Tantrum

The book is now available on Amazon.  Here’s a snapshot – click on it to visit Amazon, or go to Stromple’s Spot to buy it for less:

Stromple and the Super-Huge Temper Tantrum on Amazon.com

 

Notice my sponsored links   For those of you who know what it took to get to this point, you’ll see the irony.

LOL!

More fun at Carleton

Yesterday my dad, stepmom & I went to Northfield to see my brother, Adam, play with his band for the spring concert at Carleton.  It was a lot of fun, but COLD!  I am allergic to cold…literally.  I get hives.  People wonder why I live in MN.  I tell them it’s because everything I love is here (with a couple of exceptions) and I’ve got to have grass and water.

Anyway – the concert was great - when Adam’s band played, especially.  I’m glad the sun was out full force so I could enjoy it.  Later we went to the Reub ‘n’ Stein for our awesome greasy burger and caramel appletinis, Adam kicked my butt (sort of) and I gained a brother.  His name is Pete.

http://ruebnstein.com/

That’s it in a nutshell.  Another fun time at Carleton.  I can’t wait for football season

I’m donating my hair for women with cancer

My sister-in-law has cancer   Since my hair was pretty long when I found out, I decided to keep growing it out.  I can’t just donate it for her specifically – I’ve read it takes 6 donations to equal 1 wig – but I can help someone.  Honestly, I don’t know why I haven’t done this before.  I’m sort of mad that I found out about it so late and didn’t plan to do it at least once in my lifetime.  My hair is really thick and it grows super fast.  Maybe I’ll start growing again after my haircut.

I’m on the books for Wednesday the 20th with my stylist (the only person I trust to cut my hair).  Dave measured the shortest strands – they’re almost 11 inches long.  I think I’m going to donate to Pantene’s “Beautiful Lengths.”  They provide wigs for women on a sliding scale and more often than not, free of charge.  They only require that you donate 8 inches, too, so if you’re considering this yourself, you might already be there!

On a side note, I’ve also learned that you CAN have thinned hair (they pick out and sort each strand individually) and you CAN’T have permed or color-treated hair.

If you’re reading this and you know something more about donating hair and/or Locks of Love vs. Beautiful Lengths, please share.  I have 5 days to figure it out