Project Oasis at the Halfway Point

Husband is off work this week, and DuckyBoy is at his grandparents ... at Grandma's request, I might add.

So when we were casting about thinking of what to do on our vacation, the usual things came up: places like Puerto Rico (which, given the current hurricanes blowing through that region, we're really glad we didn't opt for), London (which I love), and the like.

One day, Husband called from work and said he had the perfect plan for our vacation: "Project oasis." he said.

"I'm in!" I said, loving the sound of it. "What is it?"

Brilliant mind that he is, it's rearranging, organizing, sorting, and otherwise making our apartment into the oasis-to-come-home-to that a home should be. We never really did that when we moved here; at the time, we were both kind of crazy in our own ways. He was still trying to move up the ranks at Big Bad Corporate Bank and I felt all alone dealing with baby DuckyBoy, who was starting to veer from the behaviors the baby books told me to expect, yet didn't seem delayed in any significant way.

So, here we are. And we're having a blast.

Monday we sorted and rearranged the shop/pantry, then took a boatload of stuff to the Salvation Army, bought a new smooth-tilting tripod at B&H Photo, and treated ourselves to dinner at Metrazur. For $44 you get appetizer, entree, dessert And a bottle of wine. What a deal! And everything was really good, too. Plus you're overlooking the waiting room at Grand Central Station.

I had a Groupon-type coupon from Open Table for the restaurant, which is why we were going to that particular place. I bought the coupon deal (spend $25 for $50 off your meal) because the place is a no-brainer for us: Created by Aureole chef Charlie Palmer, the menu had things I knew we'd like, excellent value price fix, fun location, on and on.

Husband says the best moment of the day was when, after fielding several questions from him-on-the-couch about what for him was a mystery restaurant (including, "Has Adam Platt reviewed it?), I finally said, "I'll lookm, but this is the last question I'm answering about Metrazur. You can come with me, or I'll go with someone else some other time."

He bust out laughing, got up and went to his computer, and he looked it up himself ... and immediately knew why I was so sure of myself. He loved that I, as he put it, stood up for myself. And we had a great laugh!

Tuesday, we tackled our bedroom. We treated ourselves to egg sandwiches and juice via delivery from the diner, then moved the 3 large Ikea wardrobes from our room to the playroom/other room/ room-to-be-named-later. Which meant dis- and re-assembling them. And we did it without a single argument, which is huge. We did realize that no design decisions were really involved, which is when feelings get involved and our tempers rise. But, still. Anything involving both of us and tools has traditionally caused at least one tiff.

Then we went to Ikea and sized our cabinets for the pantry, double-checked the pieces we want for the bedroom, and ate at The Family restaurant, mainly because we haven't been there in, oh, forever, and it's one of the reasons we live in Forest Hills. Happily, it hasn't changed much in the year or so. (I was a little worried because recently a sign appeared in the window, "Cool off with a margarita, sangria, or daquiri," which is usually a sign of desperation when a restaurant starts touting drinks completely unrelated to their cuisine.)

Today, we tackle the many boxes in the bedroom and ... [insert gasp] ... do some more planning of the office/living room before we move the myriad heavy things around. We had eggs with our leftover veal Valdostana from Da Family, and we're ready to go!

Whew

After all, I'm 45, for pete's sake. Getting a little old for this, dontcha think?

It's true that I can't bring myself to give away the Moses basket or some of the cutest baby clothes and stuff ... so I do have some mixed emotions about the whole thing ... but overall, I'm sticking with, Whew.

Nature on Display

We had beautiful weather in northern Indiana last week. My brother's town is small and surrounded by fields, so it's full of beautifully chirping birds, his yard is covered in violets:



And Duckyboy had a blast trying to "jail" a ladybug, who kept blithely meandering over the sticks that comprised his triangular cage:





Between being able to run in and out of the house which was full of people and cats to play with inside and lots to look at outside, at one point DB said, "This is even more fun than playing on Club Penguin!" Which, believe me, is saying something.

This Is Family: 21, 14 and 7

Here's my sister's daughter, my brother's youngest son, and DuckyBoy. They sat like this for probably 2 hours, playing some funny online game together.

After awhile I realized the 3 of them are exactly 7 years apart: 21, 14 and 7.

We went to Indiana for a few days to see my Dad, expecting the trip to be nothing but, well, pretty sad. Actually what I really wanted to do was give Dad a CD of old heaven-focused hymns, see how the conditions are at the home, and tell him that if he wants to, it's OK to let go, that his brother is waiting for him in heaven.

I did all that, but the surprise benefit of the trip was seeing these cousins make connections. Plus one, this beautiful young lady is my brother's 16-year-old:


Dad may not know us any more, but he brought us together. God does work in mysterious ways.

Haiku Friday: Memories Lost, Memories Made

What's Alzheimers like?
amnesia or swiss cheese, holes
in your memory ...

Eyes search for meaning:
I think that I should know you,
but I don't know why

Connections won't come
every day is new, yet not
what day is it now?

What day is it now?
Did I just put these clothes on...
(no, it's been a week.)

My dad has had Alzheimers/dementia for several years now. My brother, God bless him, took him into his home and has cared for him, even though Dad has been ornery and stubborn. (Amazing how some of the personality doesn't go away...)

Currently Dad is in a nursing home for rehab after a stint in hospital, but he is uncooperative with the physical therapies they are trying, so it is coming to a head whether he needs to stay there permanently -- in which case, the home would like to be paid full-rate instead of the medicare post-hospital stipend for dealing with the ornery old man.

His father, Grandpa Wright, developed the same thing and we kept him at home as long as we could, with someone coming in to check on him and cook for him every day. When at last he had to enter a home, he never spoke ... or, I think, smiled ... again.

Ironically, one of the most important goals Dad had for his life was "not to end up like my father." He swore (sometimes literally...) up and down that he would keep his brain active, he'd never retire (the dastardly act to which he accounted Grandpa's mental decline), he was a stronger man by far.

Yet here he is. Not stronger than genetics. I'm just glad he doesn't know.

Well now, isn't that a cheery thing to end on! Sheesh!

How about a more-fun haiku to lift the mood. I'm trying reeeeally hard not to write another snow-theme haiku, but it is snowing again a little bit. Come on, brain, focus......

Oh, it's no use, I can't think of another haiku. I've got waffles on the brain ... we're going to a diner shortly!

But here's a fun snowman who was at the playground next to our house. We didn't build him, but that is DuckyBoy in the pic for size comparison. I had to sneak it so it's his back, sorry. He only wanted his Puffle in the picture, so when he was placing it I snapped this.

Want to play along on Haiku Friday? You know what to do: Write haiku, any theme. Put the post url into Mister Linky here, then please leave a comment after linking.

And be sure to have a great weekend!

Long Hair is a Hassle!

I've been growing my hair for almost 2 years now. This is the first time in my 44 years that it's ever been this long. It was longish at the end of high school and when I had DuckyBoy, but it was never long enough to put it all in a ponytail, etc. until this time.

And now I know why my Grandma Wright kept her long hair up in a bun -- otherwise, it sheds everywhere! And it's all over the bathroom when I brush it, I have to slick it into place to keep it from fuzzing out all over my head in that unattractive Earth Mom non-style, eeesh!

I think that once short styles became popular, like, in the 1930s, the women in my maternal family said, "That's it, I'm done with this junk!" and cut it short. Grandma Meeker, my mom, my aunts. They learned the hard way!

My sister had long hair in '72 when it was trendy, but now that I think of it, it's been short ever since.

Aaaand, now I know why.

I'll keep on struggling for now, because I'm still having fun.

But I think the clock is ticking.