I am back, really I am

So last September I was tired all the time.  My breasts hurt and I had to pee 3 times a night.  I had no idea what was wrong with me.  Duh!  Finally in late September I took a pregnancy test.  And then I took another one.  And another.  And needless to say, I have a baby now.  Probably my pregnancy would have been a great thing to blog about.  Especially since many of my favorite bloggers were pregnant this year too (her, her, and her off the top of my head).  But I really didn’t think it would be all that interesting to any of you.

Anyway (not anyways), I am back and I will be trying to blog every day this month.  The theme on NaBloPoMo is beautiful, so let me leave you with something beautiful from the last year.

First snuggle

PS  Today is one year from the date of conception.


This month’s NaBloPoMo theme is hot.  I have no idea what this means to me.

hot (h?t)
adj., hot·ter, hot·test.

    1. Having or giving off heat; capable of burning.
    2. Being at a high temperature.
  1. Being at or exhibiting a temperature that is higher than normal or desirable: a hot forehead.
  2. Causing a burning sensation, as in the mouth; spicy: hot peppers; a hot curry.
    1. Charged or energized with electricity: a hot wire.
    2. Radioactive, especially to a dangerous degree.
    1. Marked by intensity of emotion; ardent or fiery: a hot temper.
    2. Having or displaying great enthusiasm; eager: hot for travel.
    1. Informal. Arousing intense interest, excitement, or controversy: a hot new book; a hot topic.
    2. Informal. Marked by excited activity or energy: a hot week on the stock market.
    3. Violent; raging: a hot battle.
  3. Slang. Sexually excited or exciting.
  4. Slang.
    1. Recently stolen: a hot car.
    2. Wanted by the police: a hot suspect.
  5. Close to a successful solution or conclusion: hot on the trail.
  6. Informal.
    1. Most recent; new or fresh: a hot news item; the hot fashions for fall.
    2. Currently very popular or successful: one of the hottest young talents around.
    3. Requiring immediate action or attention: a hot opportunity.
  7. Slang. Very good or impressive. Often used in the negative: I’m not so hot at math.
  8. Slang. Funny or absurd: told a hot one about the neighbors’ dog.
  9. Slang.
    1. Performing with great skill and daring: a hot drummer.
    2. Having or characterized by repeated successes: a player who is on a hot streak.
    3. Fast and responsive: a hot sports car.
    4. Unusually lucky: hot at craps.
  10. Music. Of, relating to, or being an emotionally charged style of performance marked by strong rhythms and improvisation: hot jazz.
  11. Bold and bright.

Where I’ve lived

This is a repost from April 2006 (before the Great Yahoo Blog Disaster of 2007).

I have lived in Brattleboro my whole life.

I went to college in Virginia for 4 years, but I came home every summer and little tiny Sweet Briar was a lot like Brattleboro without the boys my age.

When I was born I went home with my parents to an apartment house they owned. It was (is) right on a main road near downtown. Our downstairs neighbor used to babysit me, and now I teach her great-grandchildren.

When I was 3 my parents bought their present home (27 years now) up the main road, but off the beaten track in a neighborhood. Our street had 3 houses on one side and 4 on the other (now 5). I had a friend across the street and a best friend two blocks up. We played in the road (no traffic then), on the jungle gym my dad built me, and on the tire swing that still hangs in the trees.
When I was 12 my parents added to our house. We spent 16 weeks that summer with no kitchen. The fridge and microwave were in the dining room and we washed dishes in a bathtub. When it was finished we had a hottub, downstairs bathroom, bigger home office, larger open kitchen and giant living space.

When I was in high school, mine was the place where everyone hung out. We had cast parties, afterschool snacks, and dinners before dances, concerts, and events.

I went to college. I came home and went to graduate school. I lived at home. I got a teaching job, I lived at home. Then I got my first apartment.

I moved up the same main road to an apartment in an old milkhouse behind the home of family friends. I now lived 1 mile from where I went home from the hospital with my parents halfway inbetween. I lived there just over 2 years, until my now-husband and I bought a house and moved…

Across town! I am now on the other side of the main road. I have a different trash day. I am in a different school district. I am closer to the grocery store.
But I own my own home. I live in a cute, desirable neighborhood with nice neighbors. We have a big side yard, now complete with a pond and patio. We have a cat and we have love.

Mine is still the place where people come. We are centrally located so we host meetings and parties. People use our porch to drop off and pick up stuff for our theater company.

I may have lived in 4 different homes, but no matter where I reside, Brattleboro is my home.

My hometown

This a repost from August 2005 (before the Great Yahoo Blog Disaster of 2007). This month’s NaBloPoMo theme is Home.

I have lived in Brattleboro for all 29 of my years (save for college in Virginia).

I adore my small hometown. 12,000 people call Brattleboro home with another 5,000 or so in the surrounding towns.

Brattleboro is unique. I am sure many people say that about their town/city, but it is true in Brattleboro.

We are a very artistic and academic town. We have a fabulous art museum that recently featured a never before seen Andy Warhol collection. We are home to several branches of colleges, and the School for International Training/World Learning, one of the leading schools in language and teacher training.

We are also an agricultural center. Holstein International, the international cow registry, is centered in Brattleboro. We have many dairy farms in our area. For the last 4 years Brattleboro has been home to The Strolling of the Heifers, an annual cow parade and dairy/agricultural festival.

Brattleboro sits in the Southeast corner of the great state of Vermont. People here are as inclined to live in, work in, and travel to New Hampshire and Massachusetts, as the rest of Vermont. People move to Brattleboro for the culture, history, job opportunities, and small town charm.

That is just an introduction to my hometown. I will write more about it over the coming month.

Brought to you by the letter S

as in snow on the ground when I woke up this morning.

as in sucks to find snow on the ground on April 4.

as in shoes which I sorely need to buy.

as in shopping which is what I needed to do, but instead I watched TV.

as in stupid which is what I am for forgetting to take the calibration, book the stage, and bring the books home for Sunday.

as in Sunday School which I should be preparing for.

as in sex which is what my husband and I should be having, but we aren’t.

as in sorry for not having sex with my husband.

as in sleepy.

Trip to the Orchestra

Dear BMC,

Thank you so much for providing an experience of culture for the children of Windham County. Being able to accompany my First and Second Graders to Ferdinand the Bull was wonderful. Each of my students were enthralled with the concert. The narrator and conductor made it so easy to understand and enjoy. I know they will talk about it for months. Thank you again for enriching our lives.

Happy Small Town Teacher

Dear Freakin’ Bus Company,

Thank you for nearly ruining a wonderful day for 40 first and second graders and their teachers. We were ready at 5 of 9:00, with our coats on and in our groups, to get on the bus and head into town for the show. The kids were so excited to go see Ferdinand the Bull in concert. We lined up in the hallway and our music teacher went out to get the bus – which had been sitting in the parking lot since the kids were dropped off – to pull around to the front door. Instead she watched as it pulled out of the parking lot and down the road.

Dear Bus Company, why when we called to find out why the bus left us did you say “she is on her way”? Obviously she wasn’t, since she was headed away from the school. Why did you let 40 kids and their teachers stand in the hallway for 20 minutes waiting for the bus afraid they would miss the show? Why if on Monday the dispatcher knew we had booked a bus, on Thursday did no one realize?

And why do you keep doing this to us? If this wasn’t bad enough, it was the 3rd time in less than a year. Last spring you kept the third graders waiting and this fall the second graders. Not to mention all the times this year you have only sent 2 of our 3 buses at the end of the day. Do you know how hard it is to scramble and figure out how to send little kids home on different buses.

Thank you for owning up to your “mistake” today and refunding our bus money. We enjoyed the show, no thanks to you. Maybe you should learn how to run a business. Jerks.

Disgruntled Small Town Teacher

Dear Mr. Sunshine

Dear Mr. Sunshine,

Thank you for coming out to visit today. I feel like it has been a very long time since I have seen you and felt your warmth. Please feel free to stay around a while and visit.

There are so many things you have missed out on since you were gone. We have had too many snowstorms to count. We have had 4 snow days this year and will have to make one up in May or June. All this snow, sleet, and ice make me wanna say “Global warming – ha!”, but I guess that would be like saying “Round Earth, yeah right”. Damn those scientists always knowing stuff.

If a tree falls in your yard... Oh…where was I? You missed the tree in our yard splitting and falling over. It was a lovely tree. I am very sad that it will have to be cut away. You may remember that one of the first years we lived in our house two of the branches fell off.  It was such a perfect tree before and now… All that’s left is a big section over the driveway.  I am afraid it will fall on a car.  Please let it be warm so the snow will melt.

The crocuses are blooming in our garden.  Thank you for bringing them light and nutrients so they may grow and bring signs of spring.  I can see the daffodils popping out.  I can’t wait to see more flowers blooming.

Next step, barefoot in the yard!
Lady S

A letter to my parents

April 1, 1966 Dear Mom and Dad,

Happy 42 anniversary. Who gets married on April Fool’s day? My parents of course. What is it you say, Dad? When else should you get married?

What a small simple wedding you had. How times have changed. Here we are planning Mooch’s wedding…in 6 months no less…and inviting more people than you probably even knew when you got married.

Did you know, at 19 and 25, that you would still be together 42 years later?  With 2 grown daughters?  You probably thought we would be older than we are, but God had other plans.  7 homes in your first 5 years of marriage and a different job in each place.  Finally settling in Brattleboro, because of Unka.  Better than Cleveland I suppose.

All those hours at the store.  You guys knew everyone.  And they still know you.  How many shelves did you fill?  Bottles did you sort?  Deer did you check in?  How did you stand it, working together all the time?  How do you stand it now?  I know…Dad would say Mom is always within striking distance.

You guys have certainly been good role models as a married couple. You showed us it is okay to disagree, but you never really fought. You let us know we should take time for ourselves but to spend time with the ones you love.

You gave us religion, education, travel, culture, nice teeth, love, support, and freedom.

Here’s to another 42 years together.

Big D

April 1, 1966