pillow talk

Someone got up extra early this morning and was off to work before my alarm clock could jar my back molars loose with its repulsive electronic beeping.  A few minutes before the clock would wake me from blissful slumber, I became aware that my air supply was being shared with another.  Just as I ever so slightly stirred, Gracie licked my nose, then licked my eye.  I groaned and reached to turn off the alarm.   Her tail thumped the bed.  She had been laying there patiently waiting to greet me.   Sweet dog.  How can I not adore this creature who is so devoted to me?

Gracie

 

When Sarah was a baby, we lived together in a one-bedroom apartment.  We had my bed and her crib in the same room.  By the time she was too big for a crib, we moved into a two-bedroom apartment.  Perhaps it was because she was used to having me in the same room, but she preferred to sleep in my bed with me.  I always tucked her into her bed, but oftentimes by morning, she was in my bed.  Waking up with Gracie in my face this morning reminded me of times I woke up seeing Sarah’s big eyes an inch from mine.  She was almost always awake first, just waiting for me to wake up.  Those were good days though, especially on weekends when I didn’t have to jump up and get ready for work.  We’d lay there and talk…and what did a young 30s person talk about with a toddler?  I can’t remember, but it was nice.

 

Sleeping with little children is not easy.  Sarah used to have night terrors.  That’s a rude awakening for any parent who knows what those are like.  She would wake me up with screams that made me think somebody was in our house killing her.  I’d run into her room and find her standing on the bed or facing the wall, completely frantic.  It was like she couldn’t hear or see me, so I just pushed/pulled her back into bed, covered her up, and patted her until she went back to sleep.  Then I would go back to bed and usually lay awake for awhile….it was disturbing to me when that happened.

 

Erin and Emily crawled into bed with Someone and I fairly often, but they always had each other to sleep with, so when they came it was always the two of them.  They had separate cribs but shared a room and bed until just before kindergarten.   I remember once Emily said that sleeping with Erin was like sleeping with a starfish.  I always thought sleeping with Erin was like sleeping with a fish out of water; she flopped around all night long.

 

Someone claims I have dangerous elbows in my sleep, but I’m sure it’s partly due to my need to keep ownership of a pillow.  Someone is the worst pillow-snatcher ever.  He sleeps with four pillows and still insists on stealing mine most nights.  Perhaps one morning I will wake up and find him suffocated in all his pillows.  Perhaps mine will be the one that does the job.   

maiden voyage

A lot is going on, but I haven’t been in the mood to write about it.  Today is a lovely rainy Sunday, so I will try to transform some brain rubbish into a blog post.  My laptop is about to crap out on me, and I don’t want to buy a new one yet....I’m just stubborn like that sometimes.  It has a new power problem.  it was still under warranty the first time it had a power problem.  Now it is almost four years old and a different power problem cropped up.  I can still use it, but when it’s connected to AC power the screen goes dark and won’t come back until rebooted (without AC power).  HP wants a minimum $300 to fix it.  No thanks.  I will ask a local repair guy what he thinks about it.

 

I took my kayak out for its maiden voyage yesterday.  We (kayak and me) put in on Greenbo Lake, a small lake nestled in the hills of Greenup County.   I expected to see some people fishing and some families doing picnics, but it was a complete underestimation on my part.  There was a giant church group outing – three busloads of kids and a multitude of cars in the marina parking lot.  The lake is small but I bet there were 400 people out on the water in some fashion – pontoons, canoes, fishing boats, kayaks, and paddle boats.  I could hear hikers all around the lake.  My instinct was to leave as soon as I got to the parking lot, but no....I just forged ahead with the plan.  Do or die.

It was noisy, but nevertheless FUN.  FUN!!!  Down low to the water, you can see every little insect skipping along the surface, and several times big fish came up trying to catch a snack.  The day was sunny, gentle breezy, and not hot at all.  Perfect weather.  I paddled to the back of the lake (almost to the dam), not all the way back into a couple of coves, and back to the marina in a little less than two hours.  The dragonflies and butterflies were attracted to the bright chartreuse color of my kayak.  I also attracted some mean, nasty horse flies.  I hate them.   When they bite they take a chunk away.  They buzzed around and there’s not much you can do in a kayak besides swat at them.

1,000 times I've been here wishing I was down there on the water

 

Someone picked 7 pounds of green beans from our garden yesterday, and a boatload of cucumbers.  I cooked a large pot of beans yesterday, so today I’ll freeze the rest of them.  I’m also going to make pickles – refrigerator pickles, which really taste much better than any ordinary pickles.  My recipe was nowhere to be found in my recipe box, but fortunately it was written in a book Sarah started for me (since nobody can ever find a specific recipe in my recipe box). 
 

 

And so, now it’s time to wrap this up and get myself busy with important mundane things like housework and laundry.   

failure to communicate

Probably nobody has noticed, but I haven’t added to my blog lately.  It might be that there is nothing to say, but that’s not really true.  It’s OK for the world to believe that though….in fact, I’m certain the whole world thinks, “Oh poor KYLady, your life is so average and mundane. No wonder you don’t add to your blog; you’ve nothing interesting to write about.”  I’m OK with that.

Sometimes, I just can’t think of anything at all to say or write.  People who talk a lot (such as Someone and my children) don’t understand my silence at all.  They think if I say nothing, I’m mad about something.  When I was young and had nothing to say, my grandmother accused me of being disrespectful or hiding something.  She warned me that people would think I was mentally retarded because I didn’t talk.  It turns out she was correct about that.  I had a young guy at work once tell me he thought I was stupid because I didn’t say much in meetings, but after he started working with me on a project, he discovered I was really pretty sharp.  I just smiled at him and said nothing….because I couldn’t think of anything nice to say to “hey, you’re not nearly as stupid as I thought you were.”

 

Really lots of things are happening lately.  Lots.  My feeble brain just can’t juggle it all.  For me, communication takes lots of energy and concentration.  Maybe it’s just more energy than I have to spare lately.  Silence is so much easier.    

It’s kind of ironic that my dissertation involves the topic of communication since I am such a poor communicator.  Even so, I managed to write a post for my blog about my inability to write a post for my blog.  That can’t be all bad.       

not quite right?

I was saving a file today and looked up today’s date to embed in the file name.  I realized today would have been my grandfather’s birthday if he were still alive.  He went to a better place\kicked the bucket\bought the farm\[insert your favorite euphemism here] a few summers ago, just shy of his 95th birthday.  I wonder if anyone else in my family remembers it would have been his birthday today. 

 

I started working on my doctorate before he died.  When I told him I had enrolled, he gave me a strange frowny look.  He said, “You know, people who do that PhD work, they aren’t quite right in the head.  Maybe you shouldn’t do that.  Save your money.”   He never said how he came to adopt that idea, but it didn’t matter because my first class had already started.  

So, that makes me not quite right in the head, and I’ve (almost) got a diploma to prove it. 

Graduation is set.  I’m registered.  Regalia shipped last week.  I reserved a hotel room which was no easy task.  There must be something grand going on in Louisville that weekend because finding a room was not easy.  I hope the weather cooperates because there is a lovely riverfront park, but it’s not pleasant to be out walking in the wind and rain.  I wish we had more time there, but it’s likely we won’t roll into town until nearly midnight the night before, and the kids will want to get back home early Sunday.    

So now that plans are made, I’m more excited about it all.  I filed to copyright my dissertation and have it published in ProQuest.  Maybe when I can login and find my study in the database, or Google and find it, then it will seem like I’ve done something that matters.   Right now, the whole affair seems rather pointlessly expensive.

Despite my grandfather’s negative attitude about me getting a doctorate, he would have been pleased to know I finished.  He valued education but had no opportunity himself to go to college.  He was proud to tell us he was the only person in his family to finish high school.  My grandmother also valued education.  When she finished 8th grade, the nearest high school was more than 25 miles away and there wasn’t any transportation.  Any complaining about school was not tolerated in our house. 

My young ladies will start their senior year of high school next week and I’m hearing lots of complaining.  Their schedules, the new dress code, their parking places, the lockers, dances on Friday nights instead of Saturday, attendance policy, etc.   I listen, but not too closely.  It will all be over soon...all too soon.

Seniors