Father's Day

Cancer sucks, that means having it or knowing and loving someone who has been diagnosed with the big C. My dad has pancreatic cancer and it is a cancer that truly sucks. His odds of beating this thing are under 12%. His doctor told him he would probably have only 6 months to live. All of it is very gloomy and doomy. We found out about this last year in early November. It made for a very sad winter.

Eight months later in June not only has my father exceeded his six months, but he will celebrate his 68th birthday and his 45th father's day. The cancer is being kept in check by the chemo. Dad is walking and working on his appetite so he can take a motorcycle trip to Alaska later in the summer. I say go dad.

We are all learning to take everyday as a gift. Every good day. I hope to post next year with some uplifting post about his 46th father day. If not, I want to at least say my dad saw Alaska. And that his "Cancer Sucks" button looked defiant on his motorcycle jacket.

Old Flames and hot nights

After 25 years I broke my record and went to see the Cardinals play in the now not so new stadium. It was a great game with home runs, fireworks, frozen pink lemonades and for the grand finale a win for the hometown favorites. There was joy in Mudville.

But I wouldn't have broken such an established record of avoidance and sweated my butt off (okay maybe only a small portion of it) had it not been for a good reason. I do consistently turn down baseball tickets and any conversation that begins with the word "cardinal" gets tuned out. I made the exception today for someone very special. But to get the whole story I have to take you back about 25 years. I grew up in a small town in Crawford County, MO. The only thing remarkable about the place was the big water tower that had the town name, Bourbon, painted on it. Like many small town kids, I felt constrained by the small town mentality. I wanted out and I wanted to see the world. I kept wishing for my life to start, and that would never happen until I was away from Bourbon.

In the fifth grand I got hope. A new kid came to our little school and rumor was he was from some place else. I also noticed every time I saw him he had his nose pressed in a book. He was different, and I wanted to know him. It took sometime, but by the 8th grade we were friends. He spoke in big words that I had only read in books, he had lived overseas, and he seemed to know everything. I was fascinated. We even would call each other and talk on the phone for hours much to both our parents annoyance.

We grew into young adults and with our hormones raging we even dated our junior and some of our senior year. He fascinated me even more with his easy laughter and gentle humor. I never understood what someone so smart would have ever seen in me, but he did. He gave me hope that there would be life away from small town America. I had a plan we were going to both go to college, then get married, travel the world, have two kids, and then travel the world some more.

One of our favorite things to do was go to the Cardinal Baseball games together. We both got bleacher seats for being A students, so in total we could go to 4 games a season. The last time we went we got horribly lost and ended up in Bridgeton, when we were shooting for Eureka. It was funny at the time we had no idea how to find ourselves, but in the end everything worked out and all that was lost was time.

Today, we meet up to remember being lost together and I think to remember finding ourselves as being different in a place that did not value different. Oh and so he can see a good Cardinals baseball game when he is in town. It amazes me that after so much time that part of us still clicks. We talk about everything, we laugh, we laugh, and then we laugh some more. I feel so lucky to know someone so funny and charming. And I guess he feels lucky to know someone who rarely gets lost in downtown St Louis. And did I mention he has traveled, and I...well I knitted a red sock while life moved blithely on all around us at the baseball game.

Thank you Randy.

@ ballgame w hs sweetheart he is still a sweetie!

Cupcakes are Good, But...

Today I stopped at Jilly's Cupcake & Milk Bar and picked up a lovely turtle cupcake. I did not get there until the afternoon so the selection was a tad picked over. Obviously, I did not stop me from finding something worth taking home for an evening snack. Something weird happened while I was purchasing the cupcake, the woman checking me out was having a slight panic attack. She was very helpful and nice, but her face was flushed and she seemed a little rushed. I was in my usual state of oblivion and since it was Saturday I was in no hurry. I noticed the woman's other co-worker was being short with her and some other customer interrupted my purchase because she didn't want to wait in line to get here cupcakes.
At that moment I understood the harried look. Rudeness was all around her. I get people all the time who make me feel the same at work. People who act like the library or the Cupcake Bar is dispensing essential life-saving blood or medication that they need and you have to hurry and get them what they want right now. What is up with that? Books and cupcakes are great I was happy to get a cupcake today, but I can wait my turn, I can wait for my service. The cupcake will taste just as good five minutes later. We all rush around and try to squeeze every minute we can out of our busy schedules, but it is no excuse to treat anyone else as less than human.
Grumble, I am on a rant, but it just upset me to see this kind of rude behavior, it just hit to close to home.
So tonight I sat down with my luscious cupcake and ate half of it with relish. It was delicious...

And the big Pro

The biggest pro is that there is a QuikTrip on my way to work. Sweet Tea on demand.

Pro/Con

I started a new position at the newly minted call center with the library this week. I really did not want to take this position, but was hard sold into it. Many of you have been asking how it has been going so I will break it down into a pro/con list.

PRO
In Frontenac not Moline Acres
Drive through nicer neighborhoods on way to work
Have a designated work space
Supervisor very nice
Working Normal daily schedule
No face to face with smelly customers

CON
At HQ under scrutiny of Administrators
One mile further from home than at LC
Tied to my desk
Everything very disorganized and training ve-rry sloooow
On July 1 start new schedule of Tuesday (no family night at Rivendell) and Wednesday night
Some hostility from other staff members
On probation (again) because I have transferred to
a new position
No raise for position and still making bumpcus.

I am trying to be positive about the change, but I am scared, there is such a huge learning curve and if I fail, I am out of there. Positive thoughts sent my way will be greatly appreciated.

Corsets & Corpses

Somethings are just so wrong on so many levels. This cover falls into that category or should I just say the really gory. Tonight with beloved Cuz we discovered this odd contribution to the Austen cannon. We thumbed through the book, looked at the juvenile fictionesque illustrations which we agreed were disappointing. Okay, if we suspend all disbelief and move beyond the whole zombie thing. It was difficult to forgive the Victorian drawings for a regency time period. And the ninja thing was unforgivable. Oh and conceptionally, I just don't like zombies. However, the discussion questions at the end of the book were in fact delightful and in our opinion the best part of the book.

I see some friends sitting around after too much to drink and coming up with this idea. The next day Mr. Grahame-Smith, who is in between jobs, reading the note on his hand about Austen and zombies. He sat down and wrote a book proposal on the spot. I just can't get over the juxtaposition of Austen and zombies. What's next Austen in space?