Holy Homecoming, it's a Snake!

Here’s the scene:

It’s Homecoming.
Five little girls, (ok that’s a stretch), are getting all dolled up at our house.
Fun, fun, fun…hair, makeup and fancy dresses;
It doesn’t get much better than that when you’re 14.

Off to dinner they went with 15 of their other BFF’s, Mikey relegated to chauffeur.
I stayed home and nursed a glass of wine, exhausted by the festivities of the evening.
Finally, some peace and quiet.
But not for long.

An hour or so later… ring, ring, ring; Mikey was on the phone.
“You’re about to get inundated”, he told me. “The girls want to come back to the house before they go to the dance”.
Gulp went my wine; I was back in the game.

I went to the door to greet them, and there was a definite ruckus going on outside.
“Snake, snake” is all I could make out.
I went to see for myself.

Holy Snakes Alive…that ain’t no garter snake!
This big, fat reptile was at the foot of our driveway.
The girls went wild.

Mikey, lover of all things with a heartbeat, picked him up and insisted we save him.
I on the other hand, was looking for a shotgun!

Long story short…Mikey won.
The “Eastern Reticulating Python” as the animal control officers identified it this morning, spent the night in “Tina-the-tiny-widdle-turdle’s” now vacant house, down in my dining room.
I put a 50lb chair on top of it, with several phone books on top of the chair, before I retired for bed.
Suffice it to say…I’m a little cranky today; I did not get much sleep worrying about the possibility of a slithering bedmate.

The girls however, had a blast.
We got some great pictures and a unique Homecoming memory.
I can pretty much guarantee no one else had their Homecoming picture taken with a Python!

Maybe a couple of snakes…I guess that would depend on your date.
Ba-da-bing!!!

Put a Little Nick in Your Game

That’s what we tell Jordie when she’s taking her volleyball a bit too serious.
She’ll get stressed out over a missed serve or a bad set, and it really plays with her head.
“Put a little Nick in your game” Mike will tell her.
Armed with that advice, now she’ll smile and shake it off.

What it actually means is, Nick doesn’t take life too seriously.
Rarely does he get uptight or stressed.
Nick embraces the “it is what it is” theory, and accepts most things (and people) for what they are.
He is a peacemaker, with a wicked sense of humor.

Tonight, Jordie and I moseyed up to the High School to watch a varsity volleyball match which promised to be the anti-Nick.
A gymnasium filled with high energized students and parents alike, the tension rose right along with the score.

During a short break between games, my phone rang and it was a very excited Nick on the other end.
“Mom, I just had the most awesome past couple of hours, it was so great.”
“What did you do” I asked him while running quick little scenarios through my head.
(I mean I left the kid at home alone…how much fun could he have had?)

“I took my guitar outside and I strummed it while the moon came up. I also used the big tree as target practice with my Airsoft gun. It is beautiful outside tonight Mom, have you seen the moon”?

And I hadn’t.
Not yet at least.
But when Jordie and I walked out of that gym,
We were awestruck by its brilliance.
And for me, at that moment in time…
Nick hung the moon.

As we walked to the truck, I said out loud to Jordan…
“Man. I gotta put a little Nick in my game”.

Before, During & After Willie

Before:
It pains me to admit it took us 6 hours to navigate our 3 hour journey. We missed an exit early on and didn’t notice the error of our ways for 120 miles! Suffice it to say, Robin and Diane, my travel buddies whose ONLY job was to watch for road signs, are on double secret probation from any further road trips of mine until they can prove their road worthiness to me! (Or get a Garmin StreetPilot!)

We finally checked into the Four Season’s around 5pm, ran a quick brush through our hair, exchanged our shorts and flip flops for jeans and boots and headed for The Horny Toad. My face was already feeling the effects of non-stop belly laughing.

During:
Willie, unbeknownst to us, had cancelled his evening performance earlier in the day. This apparently incensed the owner of The Horny Toad, who immediately threatened Willie with a big, fat lawsuit. Having plenty of experience with big, fat lawsuits, Willie wisely came to The Toad and put on a truly killer show. Many of his fans however, had gotten word of his earlier cancellation and stayed away. This was a huge bonus for us, for we got to see Willie Nelson in a very intimate setting.

The bars close at 3am in Missouri…I could tell you more, but then I’d have to kill you!

After:
Today, my jaw is aching; I can’t remember the last time I laughed so hard. For some unknown reason, I can’t straighten up or walk down the stairs without saying “Ouch, ouch, ouch” with each step. My head is still a bit fuzzy, and I randomly burst out laughing at a weekend flashback.

I did manage however, to surf the internet today and fantasize about my next “Chick Trip”.
It would be wise perhaps, if the next trip I choose has “Spa and Meditation” in the description, rather than “Drinking and Debauchery”!

But on the other hand,
The name on my favorite boat this weekend said it all ...

"Is It Wrong?"

Cause I don't want to be right.

After 8 seconds, you're good.

Cowboys ain't easy to love and they're harder to hold.
And they'd rather give you a song then diamonds or gold.
Lonestar belt buckles and old faded Levi's, each night begins a new day.
And if you don't understand him and he don't die young,
He'll prob’ly just ride away.
(Sung by Willie Nelson, Written by Waylon Jennings)

Hold the phone Nelly, the girls and I have a heck of a weekend planned.
We’re headed down to the Lake of the Ozarks to hear Willie Nelson perform Live at a place called The Horny Toad.
(Well…it’s our collective hope that he is still alive!)

Willie’s got to be pushin a thousand years old by now, but to the three of us “40-somethin year olds” he is still the King of Cowboy Cool.
We LOVE us some Willie!

Cowboys like smokey old pool rooms and clear mountain mornings.
Little warm puppies and children and girls of the night.
And them that don't know him won't like him,
And them that do sometimes won't know how to take him.
He ain't wrong he's just different,
but his pride won't let him, do things to make you think he's right.

We are going to be amongst some cowboys Friday night.
Slow talkin, quick thinking, real, live, authenticated cowboys.
The kind that can hold on for 8 seconds.
And we are three excited, cowboy boot wearing cow-dollies, expecting to two-step our way into the wee hours of the night.

So for you Mamas out there who DID let their babies grow up to be cowboys…
I thank you, my posse thanks you.
Those Wrangler butts drive us nuts!

Bring It

8 a.m. Psyched. Ten teams. Long day. Let’s do this.

10:30. 2 and 0. Move your feet. Square up. Setter gets the second ball. Smash it. Call the ball. Talk.

Noon. 4 and 0. Stay with it. Play through the whistle. Don’t quit. Talk to each other. Hydrate.

1:30. 5 and 1. Missed serves lose the game. Look alive. Fuel yourself. Power Bars. Eat them.

Fight. Dig deep. Side out. Every point counts. They win. 5 and 2.

Focus Husky’s. You gotta want it. Over the net. Pound it. Dropped ball. That’ll cost you. At practice. You’ll pay.

Second straight loss. They’re good. Undefeated. 8 and 0.

5 and 3. Good enough. In the playoffs. Refuel. No time for rest.

3:15. Game 1. Best of 3. Win. 25-16. Short bench. Getting tired.

Game 2. Bad start. Who gets the second ball? Setter gets the second ball. Play your position. Move your feet. Hustle.

Something's wrong. Why is she down? Gym is spinning. Disoriented. Did she refuel? Did she hydrate?

Get her out. Sub. Game going on. Get it together. Stay with it. Fight.

Game 3. Must win. Yes! In the Championship! Best of 3. Crowd goes wild.

Fight hard. 3 starters missing. Games are close. Lose them both. 2nd Place today.

6:00 p.m. Long day. Lotta ball. Go home. Refuel. Hydrate. Practice on Monday.


The high school Volleyball season has officially started.
Can you Dig it?

Fly the Flag

In honor of those who lost their lives, and in support of those families they left behind… fly the flag on 9/11.

For the thousands of people in New York City, who witnessed horrific sights that September day… fly the flag.

For the grief counselors, the clergy and the countless volunteers who held this country up… fly the flag.

For every one of us in “Somewhere, U.S.A”, who watched in horror on live television, buildings collapse and planes go down… fly the flag.

We are a painfully divided country right now, seemingly polarized, with no middle ground.
When George Bush said back in 2001, “You are either with us or against us”, how could we have known then, he would be describing our own country, under his administration, six years later.

For this one day, Tuesday, September 11th, we should lower our fists, tie our tongues and be ONE America.

Fly the flag.

The New Normal

This was a tough week.
“Normal” in most every way externally, yet truly grueling in the gut.

TC got very sick last weekend.
Her symptoms were similar to those she had before the Faslodex® started reversing the course of her cancer.
Needless to say, we were on high alert; hoping for the best, expecting the worst.

It went mostly unspoken; “Don’t talk about it and maybe it won’t be”, was the mentality.
We intentionally kept it from the kids; keeping things “normal” was the goal.
But internally, we vacillated between paralyzing fear, and shock and dread. The possibility of “going back there”, was truly an unbearable thought.

The conclusion…

After many rounds of tests and a CT scan, TC’s doctors believe her ailment is NOT related to her cancer!
They think she simply has a “bug”, which will be verified later today pending more test results.
Hallelujah, hallelujah!

But besides the doctor’s (terrific) conclusion, there is also a lesson learned here.
“Don’t borrow trouble” as my mother always says.
Lord knows it’s coming eventually, so don’t hurry it along.

TC, like most of us, is going to get sick from time to time.
We can’t live in fear of the worst case scenario every time she does.
Instead of assuming the worst, we need to train ourselves to believe the best.

The fact of the matter is…it was a normal week around here.
It’s just that it’s a “new normal” these days.

And I’ll take it!