The moving process was very, very trying... Started with someone hitting our rental truck and propelling themselves into the front of Radio Shack (nobody hurt, thank GOD!) Abigail got the flu on Tuesday, Erin got sick this weekend. My Grandmother (the one that I haven't spoken with in 15 years because she hated us!) had a stroke and has forgotten that she hated us and now wants to rekindle a relationship. How weird is that.
Back at work today, heavily medicated, getting shit done. Meow.
P.s. hi Grandma...
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Sunday, May 4, 2008
House news...
We just accepted a full-price offer on the house! Wooooo Who! Say a prayer for the lovely Victorian in N that we want ot rent... Looks like we will be moving the first week in June. Crazy!
Friday, May 2, 2008
Yet Again, House Part II
Well folks, we put the house back on the market again. Erin and I work in NE, girls in school, and of course that whole financial solvency issue helped us make the decision. I am very excited!
Here is a virtual tour, pardon the bad pictures!
The House:
Next, the Porch:
Then the Living Room:
Kitchen:
Bath:
Girl's Room:
Master Bedroom:
Meow!
Here is a virtual tour, pardon the bad pictures!
The House:
Next, the Porch:
Then the Living Room:
Kitchen:
Bath:
Girl's Room:
Master Bedroom:
Meow!
Friday, April 25, 2008
The two Graces
She died, my replacement that is. She, almost exactly 12 months younger than me, named my name, loved by my parents, raised as the artificial oldest among a family of siblings, she died.
The two “Graces” we were, never knowing each other, we lived parallel lives.
Me, strangely dubbed Marry Ellen (the “adopted” child of an aged couple, too kind to turn me over to the orphanage) she, the artificial Grace Ruth, lived with my sisters, my mother and father doing whatever people named Grace Ruth do when they live in the upper Midwest.
Mary Ellen is was…
I found out that my name was Grace when I went to marry. Mary Ellen, the name I had known all my life, the name of that kind old lady I knew as my mother was not the name on my birth certificate. I was, in fact, Grace. Grace Ruth to be precise. The truth came in waves, not an orphan as believed, I was Grace Ruth. Given to a kind old couple, they were to watch me for a day. A year later, they were told that they could keep me.
Mary Ellen no more, I married Clarence.
Grace and Clarence (Rook to his friends) we were a pair! Only children, I fifteen, he nineteen. We forged a small life, in midst of war. The other Grace, she, who knows…
Clarence, like most of his age, was taken. Taken flight, soaring like Icarus. He crashed down stripped in his glory, leaving me alone, like before, save for the little son.
The other Grace, the little replacement, did she know? She and her sisters, did they know?
It was a full fifty years, before I knew they were there. Fifty years, one husband married, and dead to cancer, 5 children bore, the little son, the gift of that first love, lost to diabetes. Daughters in law, sons in law, grandchildren, great grandchildren.
Then, there I found you, sisters, and brothers in law, nieces and nephews, et al. That family, promised to all at birth. Given, for better and many times worse.
I made contact with all, four sisters total. One by one, refused until the youngest came to me. I, La fille prodigue, rebuffed by my replacement, shepherded by the youngest.
That youngest, she the sentinel informed me of each passing, two sisters gone within a year. Then that shepherd, the youngest. Then we were left alone, the other Grace and I. Now messages were passed via a distant cousin, ten years like this.
Did she, wonder about me? Wonder about the one who was she before she was?
I often thought about her. What would we say to each other? The simple holiday messages I sent to that cousin continued unchanged. Nobody else to die, no real change. The two Graces, living separate lives. No change, until this year.
She was gone never having met me.
It seems that now, I am wholly she, not my replacement that is, but, rather, the she that for 81 years I was not. The only Grace born to my parents, no longer hindered by that artificial Grace, the replacement. Or my own misplaced moniker, Mary Ellen. Now, the only Grace.
The two “Graces” we were, never knowing each other, we lived parallel lives.
Me, strangely dubbed Marry Ellen (the “adopted” child of an aged couple, too kind to turn me over to the orphanage) she, the artificial Grace Ruth, lived with my sisters, my mother and father doing whatever people named Grace Ruth do when they live in the upper Midwest.
Mary Ellen is was…
I found out that my name was Grace when I went to marry. Mary Ellen, the name I had known all my life, the name of that kind old lady I knew as my mother was not the name on my birth certificate. I was, in fact, Grace. Grace Ruth to be precise. The truth came in waves, not an orphan as believed, I was Grace Ruth. Given to a kind old couple, they were to watch me for a day. A year later, they were told that they could keep me.
Mary Ellen no more, I married Clarence.
Grace and Clarence (Rook to his friends) we were a pair! Only children, I fifteen, he nineteen. We forged a small life, in midst of war. The other Grace, she, who knows…
Clarence, like most of his age, was taken. Taken flight, soaring like Icarus. He crashed down stripped in his glory, leaving me alone, like before, save for the little son.
The other Grace, the little replacement, did she know? She and her sisters, did they know?
It was a full fifty years, before I knew they were there. Fifty years, one husband married, and dead to cancer, 5 children bore, the little son, the gift of that first love, lost to diabetes. Daughters in law, sons in law, grandchildren, great grandchildren.
Then, there I found you, sisters, and brothers in law, nieces and nephews, et al. That family, promised to all at birth. Given, for better and many times worse.
I made contact with all, four sisters total. One by one, refused until the youngest came to me. I, La fille prodigue, rebuffed by my replacement, shepherded by the youngest.
That youngest, she the sentinel informed me of each passing, two sisters gone within a year. Then that shepherd, the youngest. Then we were left alone, the other Grace and I. Now messages were passed via a distant cousin, ten years like this.
Did she, wonder about me? Wonder about the one who was she before she was?
I often thought about her. What would we say to each other? The simple holiday messages I sent to that cousin continued unchanged. Nobody else to die, no real change. The two Graces, living separate lives. No change, until this year.
She was gone never having met me.
It seems that now, I am wholly she, not my replacement that is, but, rather, the she that for 81 years I was not. The only Grace born to my parents, no longer hindered by that artificial Grace, the replacement. Or my own misplaced moniker, Mary Ellen. Now, the only Grace.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
King of Glory
Ok, so have you ever wondered what it is that I do at my job?
This is a pretty good example of a typical day
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
An open apology to my co-workers
Dear Co-Workers,
I have to apologize for my appearance lo these last few weeks. Well last Friday, Charlotte barfed on my shoes, I had to wear flip flops. Not a good choice, I know...
Today, my outfit is inexcusably bad. These pants are a bit saggy. The three shirts I am wearing are not a good mix. the shoes are very bad. Bad, bad bad...
You may have noticed in the past few weeks that I have begun to gain a bit of weight, the reason for this is primarily the quantity of doughnuts that I have been eating in proportion to the lack of exercise the quantity of anti-depressants and anti anxiety medication mixed with the large quantity of fat-growth hormone that is injected into my body via the million-dollar artificial pancreas that I have acquired.
This equation would look something like this
[(doughnuts/laziness quotient) + (lexapro+klonopin+apidra insulin) = fat] = bad dressing...
I am not as fat as I once was, but definitely need to reconsider one of the following two factors:
Clothing Size
Food Intake
Thus begins Zakk 2.0...
I have to apologize for my appearance lo these last few weeks. Well last Friday, Charlotte barfed on my shoes, I had to wear flip flops. Not a good choice, I know...
Today, my outfit is inexcusably bad. These pants are a bit saggy. The three shirts I am wearing are not a good mix. the shoes are very bad. Bad, bad bad...
You may have noticed in the past few weeks that I have begun to gain a bit of weight, the reason for this is primarily the quantity of doughnuts that I have been eating in proportion to the lack of exercise the quantity of anti-depressants and anti anxiety medication mixed with the large quantity of fat-growth hormone that is injected into my body via the million-dollar artificial pancreas that I have acquired.
This equation would look something like this
[(doughnuts/laziness quotient) + (lexapro+klonopin+apidra insulin) = fat] = bad dressing...
I am not as fat as I once was, but definitely need to reconsider one of the following two factors:
Clothing Size
Food Intake
Thus begins Zakk 2.0...
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