Happy HALLoween!!

 

smiles for miles and miles today-because today is a day to dress up and get lots and lots of candy!! :)

I said, "CAN YOU GET EMAIL ON A SUBMARINE?"

I says to my husband, I says, "CAN YOU GET EMAIL ON A SUBMARINE?!!"

wait..wait... let's back this post up ...

(beep ... beep ... beep)

We were driving along in the ford explorer. Driving two hours to our destination. Plenty of time for my busy ADD brain to think about random stuff. So I bust out, "Can you get email on a submarine?". Mr. Hall didn't hear me. I was annoyed that he didn't hear me so I yelled,

"CAN YOU GET EMAIL ON A SUBMARINE??!!!"

Now, Mr. Hall is use to these random, WTF? questions. Only this question wasn't so random. Let's trace the origin of that question shall we?

OH yes, yes we shall!

Before we left that morning, I was watching Craig Ferguson videos on the youtube. I was watching them because before we leave, on any trip, I get the kids ready and we wait for Mr. Hall. We wait because he's putzy. He needs to do a perimeter check, make sure all the lights are off, make sure things are locked, make sure we have q-tips for ear cleaning . . . and does a million other things. So the rest of us, sit there waiting . . . AND WAITING BECAUSE HE'S PUTZY!!!

I use to wait in the car with the kids. But they get all monkey crazy in the car. So we gathered 'round the computer to watch Craig Ferguson videos. Which are funny and the kids get to see puppets and we all sing along. And wait for Daddy----'cause he's putzy.

Anywhoodle-one of the videos connected with the batch of Craig Ferguson videos is a video montage of Hugh Laurie . . . aka the dude on house . . with the cane . . and vicodin addiction . . .

The video montage is called something like "Don't bore Hugh Laurie". Basically it's a bunch of clips from talk show appearances, like Jay Leno, Craig Ferguson, et cetera. And all the clips feature him answering the EXACT SAME QUESTIONS. Like, "You're not from America right?" or "Is your family still in England?" And the answers are all the same because they are the same questions.

Now . . . you may be asking yourself what this has to do with submarines and email access. I'M GETTING THERE PEOPLE!!! SIMMER DOWN!!

Fast forward to the driving. About an hour in, I start to think about Hugh Laurie. I start to think about the Playboy interview he did about a year ago. I remember the playbody interview. From a year ago.

Ya see, the ADD brain is not only busy, but it memorizes most everything. Stuff that doesn't mean anything, like what the gas station guy said to me ten years ago--it's meaningless, has nothing to do with anything, but it's in there. That's why I remember most everything you guys write. If I read it in your blog, (especially personal details) it's gonna stay in mah brain. It's involuntary- this memory of mine. Like a super power really.

ANYWHOODLE . . . . so in the Playboy interview- Laurie is asked "Is your family still in England or did you bring them to LA?" And he answered thusly, "No, they're in England, but I don't have it so bad. I knew one guy who worked on a submarine who he needed to sign a piece of paper indicating if he wanted to know if something bad happened to his family while he was out to sea. Because there is nothing he could do if something bad happened, it's not like he could leave to be with them. He had to decide whether or not to know. So I don't have it so bad."

And back in the car, a year later, I'm chewing on this. Thinking about submarines. And how, if the submarine person wanted to know about family members being maimed or killed . . . how are they notified? AND THUS THE QUESTION FORMS AND THUS IT COMES OUT!!!

"Can you get email on a submarine?"

See that?? That's where that question came from!!!

Turns out, probably no, they can't get email on a submarine. When the sub surfaces, they can get information but they only surface for ten minutes at a time. And when the sub is rooting around, it's suppose to be unknown, so sending/receiving signals, to receive information, is counter productive to that purpose. This is what Mr. Hall tells me, cause he knows things. Which is perfect because I have all sorts of random questions that are bound to come out in my life. And he can answer them!! WOOT!!

So there ya go. Just another day in the busy brain of Mrs. Hall.

;)

Swirly Swirls

Being married provides a lot of fuel. There is no way I have to do this alone, this crazy life. I will always have someone who is nice to me and wants to hear about my day. Mr. Hall takes good care of me.

And I love it when, before he writes something, he swirls the pen on a piece of scrap paper to ready the ink.

I love it when, even with gatorade, he'll swirl his glass and sniff before he sips.

I love the way he takes his time with everything, even putting on a t-shirt. He'll fluff it out and gingerly place it over his head.

I love how he tackles all manner of handy man projects, figuring it out as he goes. And he does a good job because, as he says, "I may not know how to do it, but I care enough to do it right."

I love how he makes patient faces when we load furniture unto a moving truck. Letting me set the dresser down every so often to rest, never making a fuss about it.

I love it how crazy attracted he is to me, even after all these years. He's still bananas over me.

And I'm still crazy for him. He is my super man, my man of steel.

Happy Anniversary babe-love you.

This is me, and this is how

This is me, after a vinyasa yoga class. I'm wrung out from the inside like I always am after hot yoga. I'm looking at a flyer for a special prenatal yoga program. I'm wearing a tied dyed tank top that I made with my daughter. I'm looking and feeling all of it.



I'm feeling what this prenatal program means to me. It means I'm at a different place, in my heart, than just a few months ago. To get here, I've prayed, gone to yoga, cried and talked about what has happened. I've embraced the sad and loss of two babies. I've even been part of a healing ceremony. And here I am, in my car, looking over this flyer, getting all excited.



But how do I tell the teacher my history? Should I tell her? I don't want to give her my sadness-this sadness I've worked so hard to work through. And I'm sitting in my car, in my sweaty yoga clothes, doing this scan from head to toe. Looking for pockets of the sadness. Pockets that can bubble up and make me all explodey when I tell the teacher I've had two miscarriages.

And I'm scanning and feeling my heart and body. Scanning, looking and feeling. Closing my eyes and breathing in this flyer and all that it means. Looking at the big preggy woman on top.

And I'm feeling such joy, such happiness. Such crazy love for all of it.



And I realize there's no pockets anymore. I'm not sad anymore. It's just crazy happy. And I'm feeling all this love and hands of providence holding me. Feeling all this divine love. It's so much power that I'm literally overloaded for a while. I can't move.

And then I put the car in drive and drove on home. And Mr. Hall and I got back to the business of letting all this hallowed love grow.

Daddy . . There's no oatmeal downstairs!

After waking us up, our son says,

"Daddy . . . There's no oatmeal downstairs!"

And really, where is my oatmeal anyway? Best get on it :)

Number Ten: I'm a little bit evil

Welcome back to getting to know Mrs. Hall. 1-9 is here.



So, I am not a fan of passive aggressive notes. There is a girl at work, Susan-she is chronic offender of the passive aggressive notes. I work with a lot of women and women are easily upset. And feel the need to say it on post-its.

This irritates the crap out of me. Men don't leave these kind of notes. They just don't care about what radio station is on or what temp the room is set at. Plus if they care, they actually tell it each other. Imagine that, actually saying things out loud, to each other even. huh. well.

Anyway, it was no surprise when this ditty made the rounds at work.

"TWICE THIS WEEK I HAVE HAD FOOD STOLEN FROM THE BREAK ROOM REFRIGERATOR. IT IS NOT A COMMUNITY REFRIGERATOR. YOU CAN'T JUST HELP YOURSELF! YESTERDAY SOMEONE TOOK MY DIET COKE THAT WAS IN THE DOOR. I HAD MY NAME ON IT. TO WHOMEVER DRANK MY DIET COKE-I EXPECT IT TO BE REPLACED.

ALSO, I WILL BE CLEANING OUT THE FRIDGE ON FRIDAY AND IF YOU DON'T HAVE YOUR FOOD REMOVED I WILL THROW IT AWAY. THIS IS YOUR LAST WARNING.

SUSAN"


So . . . . .

Um . . . . . .

These are my favorite knee high boots.

And yes, it was a very tasty diet coke indeed.

"Hey! She's not wearing any pants!"

"Hey! She's not wearing any pants!", is what my kids said when viewing the following video.



Have a good weekend all!

Roman snobs

Genesis 2:25
And the man and his wife were both naked and were not ashamed.

To find more bible stories illustrated in lego-please see The Brick Testament

So. Went to 'couple's bible study' last night. We studied Romans 8:18-28. Feel free to peruse at your leisure.

The group is a mixture of couples, all manner of socio-economic status and educational background. There is mixture of marriage health too. Mr. Hall and I have master's degrees and can be classified as firmly middle class. Plus, we are still madly in love. I say this not to brag, but to be thankful for the opportunities I have had. I am also thankful that I had the fortitude and wherewithal to take advantage and make the most of those opportunities. I am not where I am by accident.

That being said.

Studying the bible is simple and hard at the same time. There is a lot of geography, culture and customs I am wildly unfamiliar with. Also, the wording can be bit like Shakespeare. A casual read through is not enough to break open the poetry, beauty and meaning. Hence the need for a structured bible study class.

Now, I remember way back in grade school when I first read Shakespeare. It was revolutionary to me. I never struggled with breaking the prose apart. I ferociously swam through the sea of iambic pentameter. I grooved on it like no other.

This has proved advantageous as I begin my bible study. But, it's also a disadvantage. I am over educated. I have been a student of the arts and a seeker of knowledge my whole life. As a result, I find myself getting all snobby during these sessions. This is no good.

I think that when people think of Christain people, they automatically think of them as simpletons. When I tell people I am a Christain, I am perceived as less smart. My IQ points are lowered. I know this is true because I do this with my Christain brethren. Oh yes, it's true. I judge the people in the group. Sometimes I think of them as simpler than me. I'm not proud of it, yet there it is.

But here's the thing. Faith is not grown with the smart side of the brain. Analytical prowess can help me digest the bible but it is only a tool for my heart. Reading and studying the bible is not an intellectual exercise for me. It's heavy lifting to strengthen my faith.

And I can say this, it feels awesome. I feel relief as I study this book. I feel swelling of my heart and my happiness. I feel myself becoming a better wife, Mom and nurse.

Mr. Hall was embarrased by my (almost) death

So, here's a story about me and Mr. Hall. We were dating. I was about 22 years old.

I use to have a datsun hatchback. AKA . . . the POS car. No a/c. In it I would drive two hours to visit Mr. Hall. Two hours through the country and the cow smell. It was summer. The cow smell was terrible. Again, no ac, so the windows would be down.

SOoooOOOOooOOO . . .

I began to light incense in the car. I would affix it to the vent by trapping tiny stick end in the tightly closed vent slots. It filled my car with incense smell- thus eliminating the splendor of cow smell.

TheeEEEeeeEEEnnnn . . .

About half way through, as I was whipping through the long country roads, the stick would be done. I would affix a new stick and try to light it. Only my windows were down. Non power windows. So they stayed down. And there I was, going 55 mph. And I fussed and flicked and tried my hardest to get the lighter to light. But it wouldn't for the wind.

AAAaaaaannnNNNDDDddd . . .

And I almost crashed my car into a ditch. I didn't though. It was an almost death.

So I am telling Mr. Hall this story. I was expecting concern over my near accident.

And Mr. Hall says:

"I can't believe you did that??!! Man, I would be embarrassed to tell people you died like that. It's just unbelievable. I think I would have to make up another version of your death. I would be so embarrassed."

And I said,

"Dude . . that's harsh."

To which he replied,

"But it's true . . I would be so embarrassed!"

SO THERE YA GO. A story from the dating days of Mr. & Mrs. Hall!

;)

That is odd for me.

My blog is changing. I can feel it. I use to write a lot of evocative stuff. Crazy, saucy stuff. Almost daily. It's different these days. It'll probably cycle back to that. But . . at this point, I do a lot of speaking in random thoughts and sentences.

Por ejemplo:

1. We bought our daughter a corn snake. They're itty bitty snakes. My daughter loves snakes. It turns out, the snake is helping me with my Henry sadness. He's a friendly fellow that makes me smile. And I say this: no matter who you are, GET A PET. They rock!

2. I put pink streaks in Pancake's hair. It wasn't that hard since she's a blonde.

Yes, I am the coolest Mom evah! (at least for now)

3. My Mom and I are getting along like gangbusters. It certainly helps that when she makes me mad, or says stuff like, "I don't think I was there for you enough when you were growing up"--when she says stuff like that--I don't start yelling and blaming. I don't yell because that's not going to help. And I'm not that angry anymore. She is here. She is here now. Maybe I'll even facebook friend her. ;)



4. Been thinking about my trust in God during this whole getting pregnant stuff again. I've not been focusing on the fruits of my labor-what with the pills, inserts and such, I've just been doing and trusting the Lord. The race to get pregnant was central conflict in my life. That conflict is now absent because of my faith. Pretty cool I must say.

Actually, as I grow in my faith, I become much, much quieter all together. Which is odd for me. I mean, I have ADD. I vibrate and chatter and hyper at baseline. And the more I go to women's bible study, go to Church, the more I turn my life over to God, the less I struggle and thrash around. And now Mr. Hall and I are going to couple's bible study starting this week. Woot!

Maybe that's why this blog as been thin as of late. This blog is me, telling my story, working out my inner chaos. And my inner choas is becoming less so.

Well . .


Huh . . .

Here's to growing some inner peace ;)

Requirements to be my real life friend

Been branching out lately-- with real life friends. Had some hits, some misses. Here's a primer on my requirements to be my real life friend.

1. Live near me.

Anything over a half an hour away is not near, it's faaaarrrrrr.

2. Answer your emails/phone messages/texts within a few days of getting them. Bonus points for same day!

Answering things two weeks later means you either don't understand how to open your email, check it once every two weeks or you don't recognize the blinky lights on your phone means you have VM or TEXT MESSAGE. Come on people, we are 25-35, not 70! Get with it! Or, and you don't want to answer my calls, don't call back. I get the message. ;)

3. Don't be a basket case. Or a needy monkey.

If you are divorcing your husband, your basement flooded or have an infiltration of gophers in your yard-- go ahead, bemoan your suffering. Suffering is part of life. But, do me a favor, suffer with dignity. That's the key right there. And don't be a needy monkey, because I have limits to my giving. I enforce them readily.

4. Learn the art of conversation and have stuff to talk about besides your kids.

Keep up with current events, current movies, read books and have some adults only interests. Just because you're a Mom doesn't mean you can't develop and nurture your intellect and soul. TAKE THIS BLOG FOR EXAMPLE. Look at all the crazy stuff I blog about. Look at me read at least two books a week. Look at me yoga and watch crazy foreign Zombie movies. WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU HAVEN'T SEEN MAD MEN??

5. Get the joke. Have a positive attitude.

Life is teeming with wonder and funny stuff. Learn to have a sense of humor. And again, have a positive attitude.

OK!!!

Now, that wasn't so hard was it?

And um, I sent you an email last week, did ya get it?

Balancing the wheel

About a year ago, the breaks on my bike started to rub. The front tire. I watched it rub and then not rub, then rub again and I would pedal on through. I contacted Geo-Joe, (who is a monumental bike enthusiast) for advice. He sent me some links and advice. Then, as the ADD brain is wont to do, I kind of faded out about it. The rubbing just got normal.

I just pedaled through it. I mean, it's not like I go that fast. See the crew up there? Do you think we go fast? Pancakes bike only goes one speed. ;)

Then one day I had had enough. I brought it to a bike shop and 15 minutes and 10 bucks later they balanced my wheel.

Now I cruise so much easier!

It's awesome the difference a balanced wheel can make.

ride on everyone!

My Good People . . I give you the fuzzy navel

A large shot glass of vodka, a large shot glass of peach snapps, over ice.

So simple, yet DANG, so effective.

Then.

Pop in a little Boondocks and you've got yerself a good night indeed!!

my daughter volunteered me

First things first: LOOK at THE WEE MRS. HALL!! SO CUTE!! SO KINDERGARTEN!! SO FIVE YEARS OLD!!

There's gonna be a partee with coworkers tonight. My coworkers are a rowdy, saucy bunch. I booked the babysitter a month ago. I lined up a babysitter so Mr. Hall could be my designated driver and I could get all tipsy on cosmos. Maybe they'll hit a strip club. I was all prepped for the adventure.

then.

THEN.

Last Sunday, at church, the word went out about a kid's gathering. It's called "Kid's Night". There will be tons of grade school munchins and popcorn and movies. Pancake is all a twitter!!

then.

THEN.

After the service last Sunday, my daughter took my hand and led me to Pastor Pete. He's the kids' pastor. Pete puts on skits for the kids and organizes games each Sunday for the kid's service. All the kids love Pastor Pete.

So Pancake takes my hand and leads me to him. And she says, "My Mom wants to hang up streamers and help with the refreshment stand for Kid's Night".

which was news to me.


!!!!!!!!


Guess where I'm gonna be tonight?

;)




I LOVE YOU PANCAKE!!!

There were lots and lots of chickens

Of all the places I go with the kids, this place is my favorite.

Hay ride.

The calf is sucking on her hand

She was was all ninja like, picking up chicken after chicken.

Then I snapped and started picking up the chickens too.

a real cow

very noisy and indignant geese

We must have spent a hour in that chicken coop.

It was so peaceful and gentle.

Who knew chickens could be so calming?

A two-fer!

So, what do think it would take to build a chicken coop?

:)

There are 3 E's in cemetery

My daughter and I are currently memorizing this song to sing to each other as we ride our bikes to the park.

The first two verses are ok kid wise, the third verse we substitute the word bell for hell.

But.

what the heck do I do with the line, "they say he never keeps it in his pants!"

Suggestions?



Happy Halloween everyone ;)