..at least I am hoping so.  The following videos are not for the faint of heart.  I shouldn’t even watch them…

We ate ghosts for dinner earlier this week:

We tried on wigs:

…and liederhosen:

The best part is that Engineer has been talking for the past couple of days about the wedding slideshow he will have at his wedding.  (My sister just got married and had a slide show of her and her husband as kids.) He said in passing earlier this week, "I’m going to have a slide show when I get married.  It’s going to have pictures of me when I was a kid.  And it’s going to have pictures of Audrey R when she was a kid too…"  When we snapped the shot of the liederhosen, he said, "this one’s going to be in my wedding slide show."

 I planted straight 8 cucumbers but got these monstrosities instead…

Let’s Review.

I planted seeds from this package:

And this is what I got at harvest time:

I’ve heard that cross pollination between cucs and zucs is a myth, but what the heck?  They taste like a cross between a zucchini and a squash.  I mean, I will take some blame in that maybe I did something wrong, but seriously?  Did I harvest them too soon?  Pretty sure these fat boys aren’t going to thin out and become long thin cucumbers….

Have you ever played the game Katamari Damacy?  It’s pretty much the reason my hubs bought a ps2.  The gameplay is simple– you roll around the house/the world accumulating stuff on your little ball.  The ball gets bigger and bigger and at the end of the level the king of the cosmos throws it into the sky to become a star.  To give you an idea:

Anyway.  Before he throws it into the sky he tells you what you collected the most of and the name of the star is based on that factor.  Maybe Japanese food is what you got the most of and your star is then named Blowfish Star.  When it’s toys he calls it Bratty Star. 

In my quest for organization, I have to wonder what it is that I have the most of all over my floors.  I think it just might be laundry.  My katamari would definitely be made up of dirty laundry.  What kind of star name would that be?  Tide Star?  Polyester Star?  No, Racing Stripes Star.  Yes that is it.

I freecycle.  A little.  When I want to get rid of my worthless stuff I post something.  When I need something and I don’t want to pay for it, I put it out there.  I will occasionally claim something being offered.

But I am not a crazy go nuts freecycler.

And there are a couple of things that really ummm… crack me up about the people that are giving away their garbage.

Here are a few of the choice phrases often used by freecyclers that I find annoying amusing.

"Preference given to whoever can get here sooner."

Now this one is kind of obnoxious to me, and sort of seems unfair, and all freecycle groups are different.  My old group in Utah, said we needed to draw names to pick and couldn’t give it to the first person that responded.  Here in the Rainy Place, no such rules apply.  But I don’t like this phrase because some of us don’t have infinite, drop everything kind of time and an item might be really, really, really useful to someone who can’t get there until Tuesday.

"Come and get this stuff now, because I am tired of looking at it"

Okay, now I have only seen this once, but it just made me chuckle.  Really?  Because you’re some kind of royalty and feel like everyone should come and remove your "treasures"just because you don’t want to look at them anymore?  Get off your bum and haul it somewhere!  (I believe this offer was like a pile of rocks or cement pieces or something)

"Must Take All"

Aka: "Even if you drove thirty minutes to see my crap (that you’ve never seen, because I am too lazy to post pictures of all of it), and you decide there is only one shirt you like out of the box, these are your problem now, because I don’t want to deal with it."  This one is really funny when the box is all random things.

Now, here’s the last thing that bugs me.  And it’s not a statement it’s an attitude of impatience and lack of compassion.  I was supposed to get something from a freecycler once and I didn’t pick it immediately because when I went to get the gal’s address from my email my computer was down.  Two days later I emailed her and she was like, "Well, you weren’t fast enough so I gave it to someone else."  I can see both sides of the story– no one likes being dogged, but I would have at least emailed or called me to see if I still wanted it rather than just give it to the next person…  Anyway…

It’s the sense of entitlement these people seem to have that drives me batty.  It’s like they believe it to be their right to just have someone take away the stuff they are sick of looking at– because a.) they consider their stuff worthless or b.) they are too lazy to sell it on craigslist or c.) they are too lazy to drive it to the donation box.

I believe Freecycle was started to keep things out of landfills, not pass on your junk that you’re too tired to deal with.  And that’s what bugs me, is that not everyone is a believer in that principle.

And that’s it.

First off let, me start this post by giving a shout out to the lady who passed me as I was stuck in the middle of the road and honked at me multiple times: I didn’t do it on purpose to ruin your day, you are mean and you suck.

Secondly a shout out to my minivan with an instrument panel that doesn’t work in spite of all the money we’ve put into getting it fixed: get it together, baby, I need to know when there is no gas.

Okay, good.  

Sunday on the way to church the instrument panel decided to blink on thus alerting us as to our mph, other important panel things and also the fact that we had no gas.  As we were already late, and are committed to not spending money on Sunday, we got two gallons of gas and were on our way.  I planned to get more gas on Monday before I drove 45 minutes into Seattle and back.  On the way home from church, the panel went bye bye once again.

Monday came, I found myself driving into Seattle with little gas, I remembered this only after I was on the freeway, and decided that I could make it there and would need to get gas on the way home.  Reasonable plan.

Here is where the dilemma came in.  We went to the science center (clean bathrooms) and afterwards went to the Center House for ice cream (questionable bathrooms).  I needed to pee, but decided it would be better to not haul my three small children into an unclean bathroom. Nobody else needed to go anyway.

Well, you know how it goes when you have to go, but you still have 45 minutes of driving to do!  I knew I needed to get gas, but I just couldn’t handle the thought of standing in the cold pumping gas with a full bladder.  I wrestled with how I could use the gas station bathroom, but hello, not a clean place for the children.  I could leave them in the car…  but well, not as safe.  As I knew at least one would be asleep anyway…  

I drove home without stopping.  The funny thing is, I didn’t even race into pee.  I dinked around on the computer, putting stuff away until I remembered the little feeling.

Tuesday.  I know I need to get gas before i go out.  Everything is a little frazzled, I make a product delivery, leave town without gas and a third way up the big, windy, twisty hill, the van sputters and stops in front of about five other cars. I turn on my emergency flashers, the other cars figure it out and I pull out my phone to call Charming who turns out to be less than helpful..  I still think I should have called 911 or something, but he advised me not to.

Fortunately, a nice homeless-looking man (whitish beard and stocking cap) with a British accent stopped in front of me and came to see if he could help.  He tried to start the car a couple of times without success, but was then able to put the car in neutral and ease it closer to the side of the road.  Our car was then not completely blocking traffic, but closer to the blind corner where another car (going too fast) could have easily rear ended us.  (Had the honking lady not been speeding, she might have laid off the horn, for example). And then the Microsoft employee man (as it turned out he was on leave from there) left to get us some gas.

After what felt like 45 minutes (maybe more like half an hour) of being a sitting duck and listening to crying, whining children (Spider was happy) the kind man returned with the gas and the County Sheriff’s arrived to direct traffic.  Two gallons was not enough on the steep hill, so the sheriff left to get some more.  The man who helped us went home without me ever giving him proper thanks or any money for the gas, and when the sheriff came back with more gas I was on my way.

I was reminded of a few things yesterday amidst all this mess.  One– there are good people in the world who will help strangers.  Two– most people are not this way, at least 50 cars passed me, and that man was the only one who stopped.  Most people rubbernecked to see inside my vehicle and one woman honked angrily.  Three– God will always watch out for you.  It was a miracle no one hit us while sitting there, and quite a blessing that the man stopped so soon after we got stuck.

And fourthly, and perhaps most importantly, peeing your pants while pumping gas is much more desirable then running out of gas on an uphill, twisty, narrow and relatively busy road.  And yet, riding home in wet pants, just doesn’t seem that great to me, even now…

P.S. To my kind hearted rescuer, thank you.  If you ever read this, please don’t be offended that I called you homeless looking, I was kind of scared when you first approached, but my children and I will forever be indebted to your kindness and willingness to serve people you didn’t know.  Thank you for being a neighbor and good samaritan.

Spider has had a runny nose for what seems like three weeks now.  Finally last Thursday she got goopy eyes too.  It was pretty miserable in the usual way– she woke up a lot, was clingy, and we couldn’t go anywhere lest she LEAVE A TRAIL OF DISEASE.  But really, she just had a cold right?  Why take her to the doctor? 

I hate going to the doctor so I can pay $20 to have an expert tell me everything is fine.

So, we never went.  She seemed much better a week later– on the mend, but not fully recovered, so I was feeling all right and seeing an end in sight.  

And then her brother, the well child, comes home screaming about his ear.  Now, Engineer cries a lot, let’s be clear about that.  But not non-stop, uncontrollably for 45 minutes while grabbing his ear and saying that it hurts.  Appointments were made immediately.

After Engineer told the doctor he did not want any shots and that she should inform the rest of the staff of his request, it was determined that he had an ear infection.  On a whim I asked our pediatrician to take a peek at Spider.  The quick diagnosis was pink eye AND an ear infection.

Good thing the boy got sick, eh?

So then I was really feeling bad about exposing some other kids to her illness when I thought she was on the way to recovery.  And one of the preschool parents was like, no big, whatev, and another parent looks at me and goes, "Oh, I am going to be SO mad if my daughter gets pink eye."

After the stab to the heart, I was like, really?

Her daughter must have never had it before, as I might have felt that same way had I never experienced it.  I mean it sounds all nasty and scary, and it’s fairly contagious and gross, but when it comes down to it, it’s kind of like a glorified cold. Only you wake up and can’t necessarily open your eyes due to the goops sealing them shut.  (Nothing a warm washcloth can’t remedy!)

I just think of all the illnesses to get ticked about, pink eye doesn’t really make the list.  I would much rather have my kids have a case of "the EYE" than a case of "the VOMIT".  And I guess that’s the moral of this post for all you parents out there who are going to be "so mad"–Miss Stephanie say: Fear the pukes, be chill about the pink eye.  (Just wash your hands and keep your fingers out of your corneas.)

And don’t borrow my two year old’s mascara.

Do you ever make assumptions about people before you’ve met them?

Charming asked me the other day if we could have his friend (we’ll call him Bus Friend for our purposes) and his fiancee over for dinner.  I said fine, nonchalantly picked a date, rescheduled later due to flooding and we ended up holding the dinner last night.

In my mind, I was a little hesitant to play hostess for a couple of reasons, the first being that the only people that ever come to our house are under four feet tall and don’t really care if my house is covered in toys, or dirt or chocolate chips.   I was slightly worried that this kidless engaged couple would see my house and be kind of judgmental about the mess.  I was mostly nervous about meeting Bus Friend’s Fiancee though because not only does she not eat meat…

She is vegan.

Which is cool.  I totally respect people who have the strength to stick to their principles.  And I was told not to worry because Bus Friend’s fiancee was bringing her own dishes so we wouldn’ have to stress.  So no worries, right? But worry I did.  Was she going to watch me eat my meat and animal products and cringe?  Would she walk past the first two uniquely clean rooms in my house and feel the need to go home and wash? Would this?  Would that? What if?  Should I?  Shouldn’t I?

And so it went until Saturday when I cleaned as much of my house as I had time for.  I made a "vegan as possible" salad and served french dips.  (Meaty I know).  I was pretty sure it would be fine, but I didn’t know what to expect.

And so Bus Friend and his fiancee came to dinner.  We had a good time.  No, we had a great time.  I learned a little bit about Bus Friend’s Fiancee’s decision to be vegan and she was very cool about us not being vegan.  Bus Friend’s fiancee brought some really tasty vegan food, she helped in the kitchen and brought some really fun games to play (including my new favorite game ever).

And she saw my dirty house and didn’t cringe.  In fact, as I apologized to her about the state of my living space, she said something that was so totally awesome I almost cried– she said my house was "full of life."

Bus Friend’s fiancee, I now dub you "Cool Girl" and you are my new BFF.

Best night of the week ever.  I love making new friends.   

I sort of like being proven wrong sometimes. 

According to Sugar, you need to grow up.

We’re at the Target the other day, walking past the baby aisle and my four year old says to me, ‘Mom, I’d like to have another little baby at our house." 

To which I replied, "Well, what do you think has to happen to get a little baby at our house?" 

"You need to grow up."

Looking at it now, she was probably talking about herself, but it sounded a lot like, "Mom, you need to grow up.  Get real.  Just do it.  Get a hold of yourself and procreate."

And that’s all. 

UPDATE:  Engineer today told me he was going to wish really hard that Heavenly Father sends another kid to our family.

The art project today was a gingerbread journal.  The supplies were paper, cookie stickers and a gingerbread man pattern.  I decided to participate with the children because we had extra and I like doing preschool crafts there was nothing better to do.

What resulted is what follows.  I cannot stop laughing at myself and my creation, and yet it porbably isn’t funny to anyone else.

I tried to make her look like she was still looking at the cookie.  Don’t know how well I did.  Am I such a nerd?  Happy Gingergreading!