We're not in Kansas anymore

So, the ds18 is home from school now, for the summer. Soon, he'll be starting work in my department, where the calendar currently reads "Utter training Utter." Kinda threw me for a loop for a minute, till I figured it out.

But not thrown so much for a loop as the ds's laundry, when he got home. Granted, he warned me last night, when he said that I would never believe all the laundry he had to bring home. Asking him if I was going to need a sherpa, just so we could get it to the van. This was followed by a discussion of sherpas and their crazy mad skills, which probably was a diversion for the mountain he intended to move -- straight into our bathroom, where the washer is located. OK, so he hadn't been home for three weeks, and he brought his ROOMMATE'S laundry home then, not his, so I knew that he hadn't done laundry in at least five weeks.

Granted, he developed something of a phobia of the laundromat at school after his laundry was stolen, the first time he did laundry there. But still, I wasn't prepared for this:



Yep, you can't get the bathroom door open, for all the laundry on the floor. Kind of reminded me of Dorothy walking out the door after crashlanding in Oz. If you poke around enough, you might find some shoes with ruby slippers poking out.

And note this:


Underneath that bedspread on the right, is another garbage bag of laundry that hasn't been sorted yet. Not shown is the other garbage bag of laundry still in the hall, and not opened or sorted yet.

And this basket, shown halfway through the sorting process,
is the laundry basket of socks that was full, by the time we were done sorting.

Oye. Well, thankfully, the big guy came home with detergent, because, as you probably guessed, he only did laundry at school a total of once -- and that was the time that it got stolen. So, despite the fact that I was out of detergent as of the load of towels I washed this morning, we were still able to dig right in.

Now, if we could get into the bathroom. Maybe by Saturday..........

What Floats My Boat

The Olympics are fast approaching, and all political protests aside, we love 'em. I've watched the Olympics since I was a kid, and enjoy them. Summer or winter, it really doesn't matter.

Last time around, in the summer Olympics, we watched a ton of events. I remember sitting in the living room, watching some vague track and field event, when suddenly ds shouted, "well, I guess I'll just bleed to death, and no one will care."

Nothing like a little blood to get people's attention.

Turned out the heir to the throne had been taking out the trash, not realizing that the ds had put some broken glass in the plastic bag he was toting. Lugging it out to the curb, that piece of glass put a nasty gash in ds's calf. By the time I got to him, there was a nice little puddle of blood on the front step, and it was obvious there would be some stitches involved.

Plopped him down in the grass, threw on my shoes, and went straight to Immediate Care. By the time we got there, my kid, 14 at the time, was like "dude, did you bring the camera? I need a video of them putting stitches in me. I could do serious things with that footage." Oye. That's my kid. My kid who didn't bother to tell me that he could feel the last couple of stitches going in, but didn't want a delay in the game by messing with more anesthesia.

That's my kid. He'd be a great discus thrower, but since he's friends with half of the track team at Vincennes, I don't think it will ever happen. Heck, he won't even lift with them, cause he says he doesn't need the humiliation.

DD, on the other hand, is quick to say that she wants to be on the rowing team. Specifically, she wants to be the coxswain because, as she says, she wants to be at the front of the boat, so she can yell, "row, you losers, ROW."

Cause that's how my bratty gurl rolls. She'd probably be best with the men's team, since she's so used to bossing her brothers and their friends around. Or, as the whacked out homeschool co-op director said "she'll never find a mate if she doesn't learn how to not be so harsh to the boys." Oye. Sorry, lady, she's not wearing any puff sleeve prairie dress, and I'm not interested in finding her a mate at the (then) age of 15. And if she did, she'd manage just fine by saying, "clean, you loser, clean!"

And it would work, trust me.

So, if you are looking for a great nautical print dress to show off your Olympic spirit, check out my girl Rubie, atThe Vintage Fashionista, and her iconic Claire McCardell nautical flag print dress. Buy, you losers, buy!

Miracles Never Cease

Finally, Indiana might matter. As a red state, our Democratic votes are rather ignored by the powers that be.

Heck, the only thing our vote has been counted on is American Idol, and even that didn't matter, cause Joey still lost. That's the only time I've ever voted, but dd voted every week, when Jesus was an early contestant. Yep, Jesus. Not Hay-sus. The guys mom actually named him Jesus.

I ask you, how can you NOT vote for Jesus? I mean, really, I think you can go to the bad place for that. DD would march around the house saying "vote for Jesus! Vote for Jesus!" It was pretty funny, till the day that he got booted, which was fairly early on. We had to listen to her diatribe about anti-Jesus folk for at least a week. Still comes up once in a while. Since then, she gave up voting for singers, and has moved on to wanting to vote for our next commander in chief.

The candidates are spending a lot of time in Indiana right now. It's a great motivator to get ds18 to vote -- he even went to listen to Bill Clinton when he visited his college campus. However the poor timing of the election incites rage in dd17, who missed the deadline to be able to vote by only about two months. Yeah, like we need another thing to honk off a teenaged girl.....but her anger at not being able to make her opinion more known she already does, especially to the powers that be. Like her father and me.

So all we see these days on TV are election commercials and, as ds13, who will one day make me laugh from six feet under, says, the only thing we haven't seen or heard is "I'm Jesus, and I approved this message."

So I went looking for a Jesus caftan, but alas, the closest thing I could find that interested me was this cool angel sleeve dress, from The Tartan Princess, on ebay. Not exactly tartan, but hey, isn't it cute? I vote yes.

Hit the road, Genevieve

I'm planning a little getaway in a couple of weeks -- girls day out. Of course, I have to drive 7 1/2 hours to have a girls day out, but hey, you take what you can get in this life.

I can hear the dd already. "What kind of mother leaves their children on Mother's Day?" This one, honey. Eat my dust, child.

So, we're gonna have a few online sellers get together in Des Moines, and raid Dorothea's Closet. She'd better be ready, that's for sure. I'm gonna take her some stock, and a little surprise, just for her, and we'll be joined by Jen, and Janet, and good times will be had by all.

Rental car, some tunes, and a Mountain Dew, and I'm ready for the road. There's nothing like some good road music to make your day. No Barney, no boy bands, no techno here. Just whatever the heck I want -- which is usually a weird mix of rock, alternative (R.E.M.), opera (Pavarotti baby, oh yeah!), and whatever else I happen to be in the mood to listen to.

Now if the family can just keep from killing one another whilst I am gone, it'll be great. And if you want some killer repro vintage, check out revampvintage.com - a fun site that you can spend some serious time in. The 1920s wedding dress reminds me of the photo of my grandparents wedding, and this over the top cute dress, called Genevieve, is perfect for travelling. I wish I could see the back of the hat though. I love hats, and my mommy always said I look good in them, but this one looks strangely like a large dinner roll in the photo. Perfect for the sweet and innocent look that might be needed when I tell the hubby "what happens in Des Moines, stays in Des Moines."

International House of Punk

So, The Bratty Gurl has a 2 hour break for lunch every day. She doesn't handle boredom well, and is constantly asking me to come up and have lunch with her. Only did it once before, when my parents were visiting, but I was in a good mood today, so I went and met her.

We met at IHOP. She called and told me to meet her, and I left in a few minutes. As I was pulling in the parking lot, she called me again, to see where I was. I told you, she doesn't handle boredom well. When I walked in, there she was sitting there, waiting.

Our waitress just happened to be the same one as the day that I went there with my parents. I even ordered the same thing as that day, because I like to eat breakfast when we go out. Sitting there, listening to the dd talking about her meeting with her ignorant history teacher, who she'd had an appointment with. She met with him about her paper, which he wouldn't give back to her, and had given her a C on. The girl has never gotten a C on a paper in her life. So when she met with the instructor, he informs her that he'd upped her paper a full letter grade, because when he read it, "it was better than I thought." Duh. The girl can write.

So we're sitting there, and I realize that on the overhead, The Ramones are singing "I Want to be Sedated." Odd choice, in the International House of Pancakes. But maybe it's just me. The only time I actually saw the Ramones in action was at the drive-in, in Rock & Roll High School, which was, oddly the second half of a double feature whose first half was Grease 2. I guess most of my experiences with the Ramones have been rather surrent, but at lunch, the music went from The Ramones to Frank Sinatra, Madonna, and when we were leaving, Prince singing When Doves Cry. Now, we all know I loves me some Prince, but in IHOP? How odd is that?

Tipper Gore would choke on her grits, I'm sure.

Pondered on it a bit over my scrambled eggs, then left so dd could get to her next class. Waved like mad at her as she was going out the parking lot -- we have this thing of waving at each other with wild enthusiasm, mouth agape -- till I realized that it wasn't her, but some soccer mom in a van that looked just like the one dd was driving. Oh well. Maybe that made that lady's day. Or maybe not, but I can't do anything about it now.

And so, in honor of IHOP and all that rocks, here's a Ramones T shirt, from margauxbigballa, a name that somehow amuses me, on ebay. Can't vouch for the vintagicity of it, but it fits the mood. And while you're in the mood for some Ramones, take this quiz, to see which Ramones song fits you the best. For me, it ended up being "The KKK took My Baby Away." Oddly amusing, as usual, when it comes to The Ramones.

Revenge of the Duck

DS13 and I went to Holcomb Gardens today, and walked along the canal. It's become our spring routine to do this on Monday afternoons. He plays in a drumming group that meets nearby, so we go a little early and take a walk, looking for turtles.

We went two weeks ago, and it was fun looking to see just how many little turtles will fit on one small log. We saw as many as eight of those little buggers, laying in the sun, tanning their shells. DS, being a boy, had to toss rocks in their general direction, which of course caused them to bail off into the water and disappear. I'll bet we saw thirty turtles, from tiny to pretty good sized.

Hubby took ds last week, and they tried to see them again. They didn't see one single turtle. The day was gray, so I guess they were hiding.

Today, we went and saw the high ropes course along the canal -- crazy stuff, those high ropes courses, and there's no way on God's green earth that I would EVER try it. It wasn't open anyway, so we checked it out, then went on our turtle excursion. We were walking along, when what do we see but five turtles on a log.

With a duck.

Yep, there was a mallard perched up on that log with them, in the exact same position as the others, lined up like he had a shell. But he was a duck. His compadre was swimming nearby, giving him the duck eye, so as to say "dude, you are a BIRD. Get off the log before someone sees you." Which, of course, he was happy to do, when ds launched a rock in that general direction.

It's kind of like blowing out birthday candles -- he throws a rock, then watches to see how many bail out. In this case, the duck and four turtles bailed, leaving one old turtle looking at us like "you are idiots. Go away. I'm working on my tan, and I'm not getting up." I had to laugh at the duck, because it reminded me of the time when ds was younger, when we went to the cemetery to feed the ducks (yeah, we hang out with the dead), and ds came up to me wailing "that duck bit my butt!" He was offended, even though there was no possible way that he could've felt the wrath of the duck through his diaper. So maybe that rock toss today was his revenge on the duck population.

Good times, these are. Simple times with the boy, just enjoying the outside, and one of his favorite things. Next week, he wants to take an old bowling ball, because the road down to the canal is curvy, and has a drainage trough running beside it. He wants to launch the bowling ball down the hill and watch it roll into the pond at the bottom. This is the stuff that boys are made of.

And so, in honor of Speedy the turtle, ds's favorite stuffed buddy from his younger years, here's a cute turtle print vintage dress, from Retrochic Vintage, on the bay. Cute model, too. Just please don't throw anything at her.

I'm lookin' at you, Miss

Hubby's watching Last of the Mohicans again. For the bazillionth time. The man watches it anytime he comes across it -- and he's NOT someone who likes to watch movies more than once. Not so with this one.

I've never seen the entire thing, cause it has violence, and I don't watch movies with violence often. I've seen most of it, but get up and go make popcorn when the going gets rough. But I will say -- this movie rates right up there with Gladiator for movies with beautiful scores. I have Promontory on the MP3 player on my phone. It's absolutely beautiful.

The movie itself got a bad rap, being accused of being made for the MTV generation. It has Daniel Day Lewis, for heavens' sake, and that man is brilliant. And I would say that he's kind of hot in this movie, but he reminds me of my older brother in it, so that'd be wrong, so I won't. But a good friend of mine dissolves every time you even bring up the movie, because of his hotness. Hubby, however, loves it for the theme of honor in the face of difficulty, but even he bought the soundtrack at Goodwill once, when he found it on cassette for 99 cents.

And it has some great lines, like Madeline Stowe saying "what are you looking at," and the priceless reply "I'm lookin' at you, miss." ::sigh:: Hubby can quote passages of the movie verbatim and always says "this is back when men were men." With a musket loader on each hip. Oye.

But the music is great, and the theme is nice. And Magua is one bad ass mo fo, and definitely worth a watch, if you don't mind watching him eviscerate several people along the way. And if you'd rather just dress the part, grab this Vintage Fringed Suede jacket, from crappie0_1, on the bay.