Episode 100: When did we move to Seattle?

Wow. I can't believe I've actually made it to 100 posts on this little blog.

And, along the way, at least five of my friends have joined Blogger as well. Too bad there isn't some sort of referral or finders fee!

Check out the links on the right of my blog, and you'll see that the Wichitamas blogging crew is just as sick of all this rain as I am. Headlines range from "Splish Splash" to "Rain Rain Go Away." Seriously - I think the timing of that movie "Evan Almighty" is perfect right now - because it's been raining for 40 days and 40 nights here. Thankfully, I haven't seen the animals leaving two-by-two yet, but they can't be far behind.

Our dehumidifier is working overtime in the basement - love the houses in College Hill, could stand to do without the basements. It's not flooded, but the water table is so high around here that water is seeping in through the cement.

If I'm going to live in a town where it rains and is gloomy 24/7, I would at least like to have the chance of running into Dr. Korev or McSteamy. Throw us a bone, here.

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Last night, we went to see Ratatouille, the new animated movie. We went to the 9:15 p.m. show and you wouldn't believe all the little ones there. I was sure that the movie would not be that crowded since it was so late. Thankfully, most of them were either a) very well-behaved or b) asleep before the previews were over.

There was one little trashy bunch sitting about three rows behind us - an aunt and her niece and nephew, and what must have been the aunt's boyfriend. While waiting for the previews to start and the lights to dim, they decided to have a belching contest. Okay, I'm sure that I might have been involved in something like that at that age, but my God, not in a movie theater. Let's teach our kids to burp in public and then bust out in fits of laughter about it, instead of saying "excuse me." I was tempted to call up Opinion Line...

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I might have discovered a new guilty pleasure this morning. You see, I love to look at my mom's People magazine. Well, when I was eating breakfast this morning, I found a new show on E! called "Hum." It's like a live-action version of People magazine, and you can hear all of the inane questions the papparazzi are shouting to the celebs while they are inducing epileptic seizures with all of the flash bursts. It's really strange to look and listen to what that must be like. Now I see why famous people need bodyguards. Judging by the POV of the E! shots, most of the photographers were within a foot or two of the celebrity.

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not saying "Oh, poor little rich kids and all this attention you get." Obviously, if you choose to live that sort of lifestyle, you must put up with the trappings that come along with it. But, jeez, I can't believe the photographers are that aggressive. There is a tiny thing called personal space that we should all be allowed.

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I think I'll have to stop complaining about Sweaty McSweaterson. I went to Body Design class at the East Y today, and I pretty much was Sweatina McSweaterson. That class kicked my ass, and it kicked ass. I will be hurting tomorrow. That's another thing I'll miss about Doodah - I love the group exercise classes at the Y, and now Kat will be a member again, so I could go with her, but we're moving. Ugh.

WIPs

Currently on the needles:


It looks like a skirt, or some kind of flower, but it will be a sweater vest for Adam, hopefully completed by the time school starts. It's from the pattern Petrol by Carol Sulcoski. The yarn is Brown Sheep Company's Lamb's Pride.


This is a prayer shawl, knit with some sale yarn that my Aunt Alice picked up for me at Hobby Lobby awhile back. You wouldn't believe how soft the yarn is. It would also make a great baby blanket, I think.

And, this, from the "Is there something you're not telling us?" file:
They always say that cats choose their humans, not vice versa. Maybe she's making a statement?

Could you describe the ruckus, sir?

Okay, that title has nothing to do with this post, but it is a line from one of my all-time favorite movies.

Can you name it?

I think gas must be getting ready to go up, or something. I just had to fill up the minivan and I drove by the Valero (aka Ghetto Gas) and it was packed, so I went to the Hillside and Harry QT, and the cars were three deep in line. I waited there for 10 minutes, got fed up and went back to Valero.

Advice for today: PEOPLE, when you are getting gas, DO NOT go into the store to buy random crap WITHOUT moving your car from the pumps to the parking spaces. ESPECIALLY when it is quite obvious that there are people waiting in line.

Okay, so here's another reason I am glad I don't drive a minivan on a regular basis. It just cost $55 to fill 'er up. I'm quite happy with our two little hatchbacks, thank you very much. Adam would have to work two and a half shifts at Old Chicago just for one tank of gas in that sucker.

Baby Pearl's Farewell Performance

If you've seen and enjoyed Will Ferrell's "Landlord" video, you might like this one, too:

Good Cop, Baby Cop from Funnyordie.com

Fam-damily

We're back in Wichita. It rained just about the entire drive between Ozark and home. We left this morning at 10:30, and pulled up in front of our house at 5 p.m. Makes for a long day, though Adam did most of the driving today, so I knitted a little bit and read a lot.

I finished "The Fred Factor" by Mark Sanborn. It's about motivating team members and yourself to make the ordinary extraordinary. I really enjoyed the book, and it's an easy read. I think it's useful for yearbook and newspaper staffs. Then, I started "Don't Pee on My Leg and Tell Me It's Raining" by Judy Sheindlin. (Yep, that's Judge Judy, to you.) My yearbook guru-friend Jon Cutsinger recommended that one. It's pretty interesting so far.

We got really lucky yesterday for the services for Grandma. It was kinda rainy all morning, but it stopped raining right around 1:30, for her service at 2. Then, once all was said and done, we had a big family potluck dinner at the church. Near the end of dinner, a classic driving rain started. Luckily, we were finished with the "outdoor" portion of the ceremonies.

I guess they really did have to heaven and earth to put Babe Sax in the ground. The funeral director told us there was a rock so big they had to break it up into chunks to put it in the back of a dumptruck when they went to digging for Grandma's spot. See, in Arkansas, there's a tiny bit of dirt and a whole lot of sandstone under the surface. We were joking that technically, we probably really owned all that rock, since Grandma and Grandpa had paid for their resting places, so we should have gotten to send it to Kansas to make one helluva patio. We each could have had a Babe and Al memorial garden! (And, Grandma would have been proud of us for "rescuing" $1500 worth of patio stone.)

Despite the obvious purpose of the trip, I think it was really good for all of us. All the grandkids and aunts and uncle all stayed at the same hotel, and we stayed up until 2 a.m. this morning just telling stories on Grandma and Grandpa. I know that Mom and my aunts and uncle also really enjoy spending time with their cousins that they rarely get to see.

Family photo time.

This is the house my Grandpa grew up in. No one's lived there in years and the people who bought it were supposed to be turning it into a B&B. As you can see, they haven't done that yet.

My great-uncle Louie talking to Jayne.

Tuesday evening, after the funeral, we all went to Clarksville to go bowling. I've seen a lot of bowling alleys in my life, but this one took the cake. They only had about seven balls to choose from, and I think all of those weighed 30 pounds. The man who runs the place was, shall we say, not very into customer service. (He needs to read "The Fred Factor.")

We decided that we're going to get together every year about this time for the "Babe Bowl." I'm going to design T-Shirts for next year. It'll be like our own little family reunion.

Scenes from Babe Bowl I.

Malachi was cheering everyone on, even when they rolled gutterballs.

The "game room" more like the "lame room."
The freakin' bowling alley did not sell beer. I think that's against the law. You can't bowl without beer!

This is the church on top of St. Mary's Mountain, where Grandma was buried. It's in Altus, Ark., and for those of you keeping score, yes, that IS the town where Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie filmed the original "Simple Life." They stayed with a distant cousin of ours.

Chittum Challenge not going so well

So, I haven't weighed lately, but after a week of staying with my parents (who NEVER have food in the house), it's probably not going too well.

Especially since we just ate Mexican food (chips, salsa and margaritas) after the wake. At 9 p.m. Usually I don't eat past 7:30. That's pretty much blown out of the water this last week. I was doing really well - I exercised the first four days in KC, but then our bedside -vigil schedule kinda got in the way.

Last night we stayed in the RV park in Bella Vista, with mom and dad and Jayne. Then, this morning we got up and drove to Ozark and Altus. It was fun driving through the mountains, remembering all the small towns and sights that grandma and grandpa used to take us to.

It was a lot of fun having dinner with everyone tonight - all the aunts, uncles and cousins. Why is it that it takes something like a funeral to get everyone together like that? It happens at weddings, I guess, too, but we really should do what Ferris Bueller says - Stop and look around once in a while.

Just because we have cell phones and and email and blogs we shouldn't stop getting together.

Anywho. Enough sermon for tonight.

I have knitting to do before bed.

Grandma Sax

Mom called us this morning at 10:30 to let us know that Grandma passed away. Mom said it was peaceful, and we are pretty sure she wasn't suffering.

The other day, one of the doctors asked Mom to describe Grandma and Mom said "hell on wheels." That's pretty much the way she was, and she'd probably describe herself that way too. She always was out visitin' or running around, and she always took the grandkids on vacations when she needed to get out of town for a little road trip.

My parents' house has always been only about a mile from Grandma and Grandpa's. I wore out those roads when I was a kid, riding my bicycle over there to spend the afternoon looking through garage sale finds or jumping on the big, square yellow trampoline. I'd ride over there even when they weren't home to jump on that trampoline, because you never knew when she'd decide to sell it to the next person who had to have it.

She was the best kind of grandma a kid could have. She loved to make big dinners for all of us on Sundays, she dressed up like a clown, or like Santa Claus, she gave lottery tickets in our Easter Eggs (big winnings to be halved with her, of course).

I will miss her terribly, but I know that she is happy to be heading back home to Arkansas, and on up to be with my Grandpa and her sister.