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7. My name (my FULL first name) is carved vertically into a quaking aspen tree on the Moulton Ranch near Salmon, ID. It was done by my Gramps. It took him quite awhile, but he carved my brother's first (bro goes by DJ), so I wanted mine done too.  And now I have a picture of it taken by my Uncle.

6. I also have some kind of psychic ability. Not to attract people who have a clue where Humboldt is (I still call it "Almost Oregon" to most people), but actual foreseeing of some things. Examples: When I was driving around San Leandro one day, I kept having flashes of a full-sized pickup threatening someone, and the feeling was coming thru my husband. Days later, one of his coworkers was struck by a pickup and broke several bones in his body. Then last fall I kept getting flashes of "smoking smoldering ruins" and days later the fires broke out in SoCal.  I also knew, before my bro & his wife were even married, that his first child would be a girl.

5. I have invented (with my husband's engineering expertise) several objects for use by my severely delayed special needs son.

4. Both Johnny Cash AND Victor Hugo share my birthday. Also in on it are a great uncle and one of my mom's cousin's daughter.

3. As I read the Harry Potter series, I would always start with Book One, and read thru them all before starting on the most recent. I have a hard time remembering the details, otherwise, and Rowling often refers back to events in previous books, and, having ADD, it was easier for me to recall them if I'd just reread them.

2. I actually picked my 3-yr-old son's name while living in Spain in 1990, borrowing it from a Polish guy I met there, we spoke thru a German interpreter - The German guy spoke English and German, and the Polish family spoke German and Polish. We were like a mini UN.

…AND the number one weird fact about Heather is:

1. (Geek alert!!!) I have seen EVERY episode of ST:TNG, ST:DS9 and ST:V. And, if you don't know what any of that means, you really don't care to know. Trust me.

This Blog post is a copy of my response to my cousin's call to all our family share our stories about my Grandmother, and to her posts in her blog:

http://kymk.wordpress.com/2007/11/19/a-sweet-disgrace/

http://kymk.wordpress.com/2007/12/05/gather-memories/

I've been mulling over which story or stories I could tell. But there are many. I'm nearly (close your eyes, Mom) 40, and have been very close to Grams from day one. Even after their travels took Grams & Gramps far away to Salmon, ID when I had just turned 8, and then on to Nampa, where they took care of Gramps' mom until she passed on, and where I spent summers as a teenager.

Some of my earliest memories are things I've done with Grams. Blowing bubbles on the porch of their trailer house when I was too young to remember much except the image of bubbles floating away into a pristine sky. Riding in a BIG green car, standing on the front seat (long before laws came along to make that highly fine-able, if not impossible) with my left hand on her right shoulder, telling her when the light turned green.

Other memories, that are true, full, rich memories abound in my mind. The time, the many times, she let me practice driving some old pickup or compact car on Aunt Margie's ranch. The time, again the many times, she sent me out to fish for my own lunch, and I usually, if not always came back with plenty. Setting rabbits free on the ranch, though I forget the reason now. Getting to borrow the neighbor's Shetland pony for awhile, and riding her and hitching her to an old wreck of a wagon, and making it a covered wagon with pvc pipe and old quilts. Her stealthily recording a conversation we had while I was at my most imaginative, acting the part of an old lady rocking a baby while she interviewed me. Making sailboats from left-over pieces of 2×4's and scrap cloth, and putting them in the irrigation ditch to see how far they'd go. Learning how to gather eggs from under roosting hens. Instilling in me an appreciation for fresh from the garden food, and homemade freezer jams. Those memories don't even include the times I'd be there when Grams got together with her sisters, and sometimes with her brothers, to reminisce, making their memories seem like my own. I really can't say how many times I've come away from those sibling reunions with a stitch in my side from laughing so hard.

Recently, I feel like I've passed the torch on to your family, Kym. Standing back a little while you and your mom & your kids get to soak in all the goodness and fun that is Grams. And, though I do miss being able to just drop in on Grams (which I did quite a bit while I was single, even when she and Gramps lived far away), I know that I will always have these great memories, and the warm feeling in my heart, knowing that I am loved by Grams, and remain her "Little Princess"

Ever see elves doing the Macarena?

http://www.elfyourself.com/?id=9613958942

David & I decided awhile back that we wouldn't have Thanksgiving dinner at home this year.  We had a variety of reasons, but mainly, David didn't want to cook it this year - he's the family chef, and I was just as happy to go along with it.

Since it was a quasi-tradition (I think it was just a choice made out of desperation) for David & his dad to go to a Chinese restaurant on Thanksgiving, we thought that was what we were going to end up doing.  However, a modicum of research yielded a plethora of choices.  None of them Chinese.

We found an Italian restaurant that was serving a Thanksgiving menu family style.  So we ended up at Maggiano's in Oak Brook (never remember if it's one word or two).  We were surprised when the waitress told us to choose two salads, two entrees, two sides, two pastas (didn't know there was pasta at Thanksgiving, did you?) AND two desserts.  None of that stuff included the bruschetta plate that came out first, nor the sourdough bread with olive oil.

The food came out, each dish filling up a fourteen-inch oval serving dish.  The bruschetta consisted of 3 varieties, including goat cheese, prosciutto and olive spread.  We ordered the house salad and spinach salad - the house salad was just iceberg, blue cheese, red onions, bacon bits and a viniagrette dressing; the spinach salad (the yummiest) consisted of the title ingredient, sauteed red onions, bacon (real bacon, not bits), pinenuts and a sweet viniagrette.  Our main courses were turkey with gravy & stuffing, and ham with mashed sweet potatoes and a fruit glaze.  For our side dishes we chose garlic mashed potatoes (hello, you're talking to the potato queen here!), and creamed corn which had roasted red bell peppers in it, and was as delicious as any other savory dish on the table.  For our pasta dishes we chose 4-cheese ravioli and chicken & spinach manicotti.  And, finally, dessert.  We had tiramisu (for David, as I don't care for it), and what essentially turned out to be a giant cream puff with vanilla ice cream in place of the cream and hot fudge drizzled over the top of them - ooh baby.

Needless (okay, maybe not needless) to say, we brought home 3/4 of the tiramisu.  David helped me eat the cream puff, since the ice cream wouldn't make it home with us.  We also brought home most of the mainicotti & ravioli, 9/10 of the corn and mashed potatoes, 3/4 of the turkey, about the same of the ham, and half a loaf of the original bread they put out.

After we ate, we sighed and, in our whiniest voices said "I'm never eating again!"

I took about 5 minutes to think about this list.  Feel free to add your answers in comments.

You know you live too far north when...

-your outdoor photosensor light fixture turns itself on at 4 p.m.
-you lose 10 minutes of daylight every winter day
-you can't grow citrus.
-you're freezing, and a native of the area says "Aw, this ain't nuthin'!"
-someone asks where you got lined jeans that look so good, and a light bulb goes off in your head:  Lined Jeans?!  There's such a thing?
-people talk about engine block heaters and remote starters for their cars.
-people talk about changing to snow tires for the winter.

I am the luckiest Momma in the world.  When I carry my Buba up to bed, he smiles at me with love and gratitude. 

Well, guys, I think I've found the reason I send my 3-year-old off into the sunrise on the school bus every morning:  it's so I can return to brushing my teeth twice a day instead of once every 2 days - if I was lucky.

I can't tell you how busy I've been with my new-found freedom.  I go to the gym when I can, instead of waiting for the sitter to show up.  I clean the bathroom with the most noxious fumes in the house (if you lived here, with the hard water, you'd understand).  I run to the store for that one item - whatever it happens to be - depends on the day.  I've even searched & applied for several jobs - real jobs, not just babysitting the equipment at the local gym like I had been doing twice a week.

Yesterday, though, I almost had a setback when my Li'l D came home crying (he rarely cries).  He had me with wet eyes and hurting heart before we could get into the house.  I took him out of his Kid Kart, and as I was taking off his leg braces, I noticed that one hadn't been on correctly.  (Imagine wearing a flat, hard plastic boot, but having your corresponding foot look as if it were in a high heel.)  As soon as I got it off, he stopped crying and fell asleep in my arms - a sleep so hard that even when I took him up and put him in his crib, he didn't stir.  I wrote a note to his teacher, and have hopefully stopped that problem from happening again.  My heart hurts again telling you this, but my baby went to sleep smiling tonight, so all's well in the world.  And we both have the weekend to recover (though I think he had forgotten about it by the time he woke up from his nap yesterday).

I've never been like my kid.  Besides being absolutely adorable, and loved by every care-taker he's ever had, he has a magnetism that goes beyond even knowing him.

Today was his first day of school.  He went in his new Kid Kart (a hybrid stroller/wheelchair) on the bus.  Another older boy was on the bus, but I think he showed more curiosity as to what was taking his bus of its usual route, than repressed desire to kiss Lil D's luscious cheeks.  Papi & I went to the school for our intake meeting with all his service providers there and beat the bus.  If I hadn't been there to witness it, I probably wouldn't have believed the Bus Aide when they were dropping D off at 2:30 and she said that the Aides in his room were jockeying to be able to be the one to get him off the bus, leaving Nick, the aforementioned curious boy, wondering why he had to wait behind the little guy to get off the bus.

As I said, I wouldn't know.  What I do know is, after pulling myself together after putting him on the bus, visiting the school, and actually having time to myself at my house during the day, that there are people who like and even love Lil D and will care for him.  But, at the end of the day I get to be his Momma, and that makes me happy.

Follow this link to see photos:
http://www.kodakgallery.com/BrowsePhotos.jsp?&collid=51060526103.145186594503.1194320950475&