We're not in Kansas Anymore, Toto.

Friday Wine Goodness: Shaun of the Dead.

So, we have the flu at my house. Type B, the strain most of the midwest is seeing, different from Type A which is occuring mostly on the coasts, according to our pediatrician. My husband took off Tuesday and Wednesday and I put in for a substitute teacher for Thursday and Friday. Ah, co-parenting at its finest. I'm pretty lucky on that front, I know. 

The 12 year old, whom I shall call Mr. Snarkyfus from here on, has been with fever since Monday evening, and yesterday morning the 10 year old went down. They are two totally different patients. Mr. Snarkyfus, for example, sleeps away his fever for days on end. The house is quiet and peaceful and quite lovely, actually, as I get caught up on things like laundry and bleaching everything he touches. I know he is feeling better when the talk-back returns. (No sullen silent treatment here, unfortunately.)

The 4th grader, however, is a whining machine when sick. I'm so tiiiiiired, so huuuuungry, I will not eat thaaaaat, why can't I have some iiiiiiiice creeeeeeam? He's a continuous cycle of up, down, bed, couch, cannot get comfortable, snuggly, DON'T TOUCH ME mess. It's exhausting. 

Thank Goodness for the case of wine my parents gifted me at Christmas, so I don't have to run to the store every hour. 

So. We're hanging in there. We're watching a lot of Shaun The Sheep, usually about the time I get sick of the thrasher metal music playing in the background of the computer games the boys love at Kongregate.net, and force everyone onto a different screen. This, I can watch all day. 

 

I'm kind of enjoying the free time, although I shudder to think what shape my classroom will be in come Tuesday morning when we return. 

Friday Wine Goodness: Start your ovens!

After a break last year when we visited family in Alabama for Thanksgiving and I didn't have to show up with anything but a bottle of wine, it is my turn to cook the turkey again. I was totally going to do The Pioneer Woman's brined turkey recipe again this year, which is fantastic and worth the work. But then I overheard a conversation in the teacher's lounge about Trader Joe's brined fresh turkeys and how awesome they are and how they sell out a full week before Thanksgiving, and I thought, hmm, my husband's office is just across the intersection from our nearest Trader Joe's. So I texted him and told him to haul his butt over there and get me a special, preshus turkey before they run out. Which he dutifully did. 

Good boy. 

It takes up a big part of my fridge for the next week, but that's okay. Today is Friday, there's only two days of school next week, and I now I can use my free time painting the laundry room and drinking wine instead of basting. 

Now that's a holiday. 

 

 

 

Friday Wine Goodness: Don't worry, Be happy. Or flirty. Or bright.

Summer school is over, and I have a few weeks left to lay around the house and actually enjoy the summer before we ramp back up in August. It turns out I'm pretty good at being lazy, as I can easily sit down with my morning cup of tea and the laptop tooling around on the internet and then suddenly it's lunchtime, the kids are whining and hungry, blah blah blah. Like they can't smear some mayonaise on a slice of bread and make a ham sandwich on their own. Don't bother me, I'm busy watching Timothy Olyphant kiss girls with his entire body.

Ahem.

I did also start a "home improvement project," if by project you mean I created a problem where one didn't really exist, in that I tore apart the cabinets in my laundry room so that I can make a mudroom. I'm telling you, Pinterest can be really dangerous.

This is my laundry room "during" picture, because I totally forgot to take a "before" picture, I pretty much just started crowbarring the stupid thing off the wall.

This is the sketch from my head of what I intend to do:

Listen, I am not an architect, in case you didn't know. Also note, there's no room for the dog crate in my new mudroom. Sorry Max, but you're crate is headed to the basement.

The shame, it spirals. Heavy sigh.

 

But anyway, so yeah. I might get that finished before we have out of town company coming to visit in September. Not...likely. But possible.

In other news, if you follow me on The Facebook you may have seen me mention a time or twenty that my brother now owns a liquor store. Shut The Front Door, I have my own direct hookup without having to go to Missouri. He's having a lot of fun, working his butt off keeping it stocked and pretty and managing customers, and he must be doing a pretty good job because every time I go in there the door never.stops.swinging. This is a good thing.

Last week when I stopped in I saw some of this sitting on a display by the counter. Be Wines, including Be Fresh, Be Flirty, Be Bright, and Be Radiant.

I said, "Hey, look at that super cute $8 bottle of wine. Is it any good?" He said, "I don't know, I haven't tried it, but we sell the shit out of it."

I bought the chardonnay, the "Be Fresh." And yes, it is good. And fresh. So fresh in fact, that I may have ravished my husband later that night, and I haven't even started reading "50 Shades of Grey" yet. I'm pretty sure he went and bought a case of it. I will probably stick with the chard or the pinot grigio, because pink moscato translates for me as "puke your guts out" and also "headache in a bottle" so no thanks.

That's all I got, people. Its like 108 degrees outside, so imma just stay here on the couch with my dog and drink wine.

Friday Wine Goodness: Ain't no rest for the wicked.

Hey look, school's out! I can finally relax, right? Maybe make myself useful around the house? Do some gardening? Drink some wine on the deck? Maybe some Wicked Wines Company's LUST in a bottle? Envy looks a little pink for me, not really my style. 

I've been doing some of that, and it's nice. Even though it's a bit nipply, today. But I'll take it! Because the air conditioner crapped out on us this week. Somebody up there loves me, though, because the weather turned nice, cool and breezy right about that same time, giving us a chance to get someone out here to fix it without paying late-night emergency fees. Thank the little baby Jesus. Amen. 

So no school. For about a week, anyway. Then I start helping out with special education summer school classes, working in the mornings. I've already started my other part time job, which involves data-entry for a lawyer friend of mine, with pages and pages of legal verbiage that would make any graduate student in Shakespearean studies choke. But it makes the time fly by, and they pay is nice. This is key. 

And in between, because, you know - why not? - this next week is Cub Scout day camp. Yes, once again, for the 4th year (5th? I don't even remember), I will be slogging around in the tall grass and heat with a bunch of little boys playing games and shooting BB Guns, soda bottle rockets, and arrows to their little heart's content. Also shoving tadpoles from the creek run-off into their water bottles when you turn away for two seconds. Don't ask, this is just what they do. It will happen again, I am certain. 

Like last year, I am running the Tot Lot, which means I'm babysitting the siblings of scouts - boys up to age 5 and girls up to age 12. And let me just tell you, thank God for those 12 year old girls. They're very helpful. Plus, Drew gets to flirt with them all day in my presence, which I enjoy immensely, even though they are about a foot taller. But in the Tot Lot we do most of the activities that the scouts do, except the guns, archery or sling-shots. Four year olds with sling shots are probably not a good idea. But they do like the tadpoles, boy-howdy. That shit can entertain them for HOURS. Also, snacks! They think I rock. I am pretty awesome as the Pied Piper of preschoolers. 

So that's what's happening in my neck of the suburbs. I feel pretty good, overall, despite how busy everything is. That super dose of Cipro I took about a month ago cleared out what I now believe was a 6-month long, lingering, low-level infection. (How's that for alliteration?) It sapped all my energy, all my strength, and all my happy for far too long and I am so glad to finally be rid of it. It makes a difference, you know? Feeling good? I had forgotten. I like it. So does my family. 

 

 

Peace out, friends. I have a date with a glass of wine. 

Friday Wine Goodness: Closer to Fine.

 

 

Today on the way home from school I heard Indigo Girls' "Closer to Fine" come up on the radio. It's an old song now, but then I am old, too, I suppose. I don't love it any less fiercely than I ever did, but instead it is like an old quilt wrapping around me, warming the air surrounding my body and leaving me happier than I was just a moment previously. It is the same feeling I get when I hear Simon and Garfunkel's "Coming Home" or Cat Stevens' "Moonshadow." 

I know, you're gagging on the imaginary Patchouli fog floating out of your screen right about now, sorry. I yam who I yam. 

And right now, I am a woman looking down the barrel of three and a half more days of school this year - my first year of teaching in a public school classroom. I knew I would love this job, but I didn't know how MUCH I would love it. the answer to that is So Very Much. Ridiculously much. I should have done it years ago, when this song was new. But, I try not to have regrets. So I'm a little nostalgic and yet so very ready for summer, all at the same time.

So much has happened to my little family this past year, and I've not been able to share very much of it here. It hasn't all been good, it hasn't all been bad, but it probably will make for a good story someday. Perhaps at some point and time in the future, when emotions are a little less raw, and it would be easier to look back and laugh instead of wallow in it, I can tell the tale. 

Overall, despite all of this, I'm really pretty happy. Yeah, we're stressed. But we're healthy. The weather is nice. We have food on the table, and clean sheets on the bed. The hard stuff will go away soon enough. In this, I have faith. 

And until then, I have plenty of wine to tide me over. 

 

Friday Wine Goodness: The Mating Call of the Chocolate Ale.

image from Boulevard Brewing Company

I know I'm about a week behind on this topic, but that's just how it works for me these days. Two weeks ago Boulevard Brewing Company released the 2012 Chocolate Ale, part of the Smokestack Series of special release beers, in collaboration with Christopher Elbow Chocolates. Beer and chocolate lovers alike scrambled to get their hands on some, but it was scarce and sold out quickly. In my infinite wisdom, I chose not to try and scramble, knowing instead that my brother's bar would have some on tap, and I could partake at my leisure.

Tempting fate is not one of my lessons easily learned, however, as it was by that Wednesday afternoon my 11 year old had been sick with a high fever for two days. We were not going out to eat at my brother's place, nor would we be served a glass of hoppy chocolate yumminess the next day, as the keg was tapped and sold out in about 8 hours. Oops.

My nearby Lukas Liquors had a recording on the phone announcing they were sold out. The World Market store clerk said "Oh yeah, we had some. For about 15 minutes."

Hmmph. Epic Fail.

Finally, after many calls, we found a liquor store that was getting in a new shipment and taking names for a waiting list. We dutifully left our name, and then went in the next morning to collect our prize. $15 for a litre bottle. (I heard later people were selling it on eBay for a lot more.)

Having caught a Facebook conversation in which my friend Average Jane suggested the Chocolate Ale would be better served closer to room temperature, we brought it of the fridge and let it sit for about 20 minutes before snapping off the Champagne-like cork contraption. And then we swirled and sipped, as if it were a glass of Pinot being served on a terra cotta patio in Napa Valley.

And it was good. Really, really good.

The chocolate kicks in more in the aftertaste than in the sip itself. My husband and I found ourselves polishing off that litre a little too fast, a little too easy. It's probably good this stuff isn't around for the regular part of the year.We shared the other bottle with friends we had over for the Super Bowl. It disappeared in minutes.

Here's some other good news: if you didn't get any Chocolate Ale in the frenzy of the past few weeks, never fear. A little bird tells me some restaurants may be holding some back to serve on Valentine's Day. Call around to your favorite places, because I'm not giving up my secret source.

 

Friday Wine Goodness: Welcome to Kansas, Trader Joe's.

  
 
And the people said, "Awww, yeah."

So yeah, I finally made it over to Trader Joe's and for a Friday afternoon at 2pm, it was insanely crowded. I'm glad I wasn't here to try and go in the first few days it opened. Us Midwesterners, we like to swarm new things. The good news all the freaky people who just wanted to try it will go back to HenHouse soon, and the rest of us can get our Two Buck Chuck without the hassle. But this was pretty cute - happy wine! (Note my fav - the La Crema in the background is only 16.99 here. Normally it's over 20.)

* Actually, it's welcome to Missouri, if you want to buy wine. The TJs on the Kansas side is grocery only, because Kansas is a little backward. Don't get me started.

 

Friday Wine Goodness: See you after the rapture, suckers.

image courtesy of youngspiritwine.com

 

Oh come on, you didn't think I was gonna let that go by, did you?

Also, I can't get this song out of my head:

 

Seriously, I hope it's true, at least in some sense. I hope the freaks and weirdos get zapped up tomorrow in some Mork and Mindy style shazzam and then the rest of us Jesus lovers can begin to dig out from the hole they've been digging us deeper and deeper into since The Crusades. I'm really hoping that asshole from Topeka gets taken, too, so maybe Kansas can start earning back our right to be taken seriously.

Sidenote: speaking of fags, my oldest has been reading The Hobbit, mostly because I found a box set of the Fellowship of the Rings Trilogy at a garage sale last year and thus decided it was time for him to read it, but really felt he needed to start at the beginning. When we first opened it up last week, I read the first chapter aloud then he went on his own. I had to stop and explain the use of the word "fag" in JRR Tolkien's world. In England, if you didn't know, a fag is a cigarette. I had to stop the story and explain to him that in America it's a mean word, a derogeratory word, and that it's not a word to be used at all, ever. And that really it's best not to use it in the sense of a cigarette either, because unless you're actually in the UK at the time, it won't be taken well.

He had no idea that some people would say horrible things about someone and make fun of them and call them names just because they are gay. This is where we are, people. The kids today have no idea that the words of yesterday were used in those ways, or could be hateful, or that there would even ever have been a reason to be hateful. Yes they know bullying, they know words can hurt, but the specific words used for specific purposes they do not know. And they do not know why. This, I think, is progress.

He has no idea of the N word, either, but I managed to avoid that conversation because he got bored trying to read the dialect inflections about four pages into Tom Sawyer and we certainly haven't made it to Huckleberry Finn. My son apparently prefers his characters to be imaginary creatures like pokemon, hobbits, half-Gods and wizard Christ figures. Regular little boys who create mischief but have no magic powers hold no interest to him. Go figure. I can't wait until we get to Shakespeare.

See you all next week, people. May the world be a less annoying place. Peace out.

 

 

 

 

Friday Wine Goodness: I can't feel my brain.

It's Friday! Exhaaaaaaale.

This week I spent shadowing the teacher for which I am taking over when she has her baby and begins her maternity leave. Supposedly, I do not technically start teaching alone, by myself, stranded in the classroom without her until Monday, May 9th, but I have a feeling it will be sooner. I watched that baby drop all week, from sitting high and tight right under her boobs to so low by this afternoon she could barely walk. Yeah, she's not two weeks from labor. I'd put money on it.

Anyway, I got to spend the week with her, going through each class, meeting the kids, many of whom I already know because they're on various sports teams my kids have played on over the years. One second grader who plays soccer with my son even raised his hand, and without taking his eyes off me, asked his teacher, "Um, does her son play on my soccer team?" Yes, yes he does.

The good news about being the computer teacher is that I get to see everyone in the whole building. Each day is set up the same, 5th grade first, kindergarten last. So really, every day is like Bill Murray's Groundhog's Day, as far as what I have to teach. The 5th graders practice their typing skills, the kindergartners have books read aloud on the screen. Rinse, repeat, Monday to Friday.

But I'm sooooooo tired. I've never been this tired. Well okay, maybe after that one mission trip with teenagers where it was 102 degrees and we camped outside and I woke up to a raccoon staring curiously into my eyes from THREE FEET AWAY... maybe I'm that tired. I don't know. But between me and the pregnant chick, by this afternoon we could barely talk, much less go over lesson plans.

And then, at 3 pm today, we had a surprise fire drill. While the kindergartners were in our classroom. There is a protocol, and it's not that complicated, and we got wind of it about 2 minutes beforehand, so we lined up and waited for the sirens to go off. But still. Kindergartners, in case you don't know, cannot walk in a straight line to save their lives. They cannot walk without talking, flailing, or singing. They cannot do these things under normal circumstances, but add the sensory overload/excitement  of sirens and flashing lights, and you might as well be done for the day because HOLY CRAP, they can't re-engage. I mean come on, they are five. They can however, hold their little chubby hands in yours very tightly while you re-enter the building and assure them there really is no fire, it's just a practice. They will squint and cock their heads to the side like a puppy, with a look that reads, "Lady, you crazy." But they will go quietly anyway.

And then you will come home, go to baseball practice, drink some wine, go to some soccer games over the weekend, and start your own personal Groundhog's Day movie all over again on Monday. Rinse, repeat.

But then, Field Day is coming. God help me.

 

 

Friday Wine Goodness: Let's blow some sh*t up edition. *

For Christmas, my youngest got a special kit to make Coke and Mentos explosions. Since we live in Kansas, and winter has been upon us, we only just now got it out to actually do it. Behold, my Walmart expedition this morning.

Plus, a little extra fortification for mom. It's National Drink Wine Day, after all.

 

Anyway, here's the video. The little boys are excited about the geyser, the older kids just want to drink the leftover Coke out of the bottle.

 

 

TGIF, people. Party on, Garth.

 

* this is as close as we get to actually blowing sh*t up at my house. That's what Boy Scout camp is for, thank you very much.