Keeping Busy

In case anyone was wondering what I do with my days...

After my sisters go to school, I tend to find breakfast. Or breakfast finds me. Either way, whatever is left on the table is fair game as far as I'm concerned.

I also like to put blueberries into a bowl. And on the floor. And under the fridge, stove, or any other major appliance.

I try on my sister's swimming goggles and instantly think I can swim as fast as Marin. Power.

I'm more of an outdoorsy kinda guy, so I usually take my leisure outside. Even though my family often disguises the word "outside" with its Spanish equivalent (afuera), I know exactly what they're implying.

My duty, as I see it, is first to water the yard and second, to get myself completely drenched. Regardless of what my mother says, it does not make me smell like a wet puppy.

There comes a time in every toddler boy's life when he must refer to his baser self. And between you and me...this hardly ever happens. Again, take my word for it, not my mother's.

Ah, nature. I enjoy sandbox time and try to get in all the sand throwing while my sisters are at school...

...because let's face it...it gets a little crowded in there sometimes. You think they'd want their space.

I also like to entertain. So every other week or so, I call up my buddies to come hang out. It is NOT a "playdate." It's just dudes hangin' out.

We're trying to get the band back together, but you know, rockers...

This is probably one of my favorite things to do. Nothing like sitting on the tabletop, where the family partakes, to get absolutely and most assuredly naked. Such great satisfaction.

When my mother doesn't allow me to do my favorite thing (which is too often), my mind wanders to my happy place. I dream of little else since that shiney red machine waltzed into my life.

Otherwise, I have to be creative. Which is pretty much synonymous with sneaky. Here's the deal: I love Dad. Dad loves me. Therefore, Dad must LOVE me using his toothbrush. He still doesn't know. Blogs are good at bringing good things to light.

Well, that's it in a nutshell. There are endless possibilities of course and I do my best to explore those daily. I suppose I'll save the rest for my memoirs.

Pomegranates

Marin and Santi love pomegranates. And that pleases me so much. I have many memories as a little girl eating pomegranates with my great grandmother. She grew a tree in her backyard and it was one of my favorite things I did with her.

This summer, I went back to her house where my Tia Trini now lives. It had been too long since I'd returned. Too long. I knew this because as I walked into Tia's house, it was Lita's house I saw, and heard, and smelled. In an instant, I was seven years old again. I could see myself in the corner of her kitchen, soaking hojas in large metal tubs (because that was the only job I was trusted to do in the Tamale production line). Lita handing me a can of whole black olives, intended for the tamales, but she knew they'd end up on the tips of my fingers, and then in my mouth. I'm sure she bought extra cans, knowing I was coming.
I could see myself sneaking out the same sliding glass door with Cousin Robbie to tease Trini's vicious dog (And however much Rob would like to think it was my fault he finally got bit -- it isn't. It was his idea and he couldn't run fast enough. It's still hotly debated between us almost 30 years later.)

But when I saw the pomegranate tree, I could not wish more for my daughters to have pomegranate memories. It means everything to me. I casually mentioned my memory to Tia Trini as we stood staring up at the tree that once seemed five stories tall. I reminded the girls when I introduced them to Tia that she is the one with Lita's pomegranate tree.

Perhaps Trini has similar memories as I do about the tree, but even so couldn't guess at its enormous significance to me. Nevertheless, seeing a package on my doorstep with Tia's return address, I opened it to find nine gloriously perfect pomegranates from Lita's tree.

I wrote the following poems while an undergrad at BYU. (Although KMQ and Pleasantly Brandi may not recall adding their two cents to the second. We were in the Cougareat and they were mildly distracted by trying a new technique of staring down boys. This is pre-Abram and Sterling days, mind you.) Please forgive the mediocrity. I'm hoping that when Marin and Santi look at our blog book later in life, they just might reflect on pomegranate memories we shared together and remember where they originated.

Passing On

Do you remember, we whacked
pomegranates from the tree
in your backyard
with a broken broomstick?
Chickens pecking
about our feet,
we split the red globes
open. We dug the rubied beads with our
bloodstained fingers,
popped them into
our mouths –
tongue-play against teeth.

There must have been a time
when your cornmeal wasn’t perfect.
The masa, the hojas
dried
black on the edges.
Tamales hurriedly folded
then forgotten.
When were you like me?
The day you were wed?
The day you first
swaddled your babies?

You carried this
yard on your back,
harvesting grapes,
cooking casseroles
in other people’s kitchens,
wiping their children’s mouths.
I don’t have a yard
of my own,
and my back is weak,
apologetic and unwanting.


Heirloom

I remember abuelita
at the stove –
A scarf combed back coarse, gray strands
revealing settled skin around her eyes, her mouth.
Her waist, round and short
almost disappeared
under her blue housedress except for her white apron,
a solitary cloud–
floating, intervening,
casting relief upon us
a shadow in summer, a shield in storm.
Remnants of everyone:
spilled secrets, simmering dreams, spoiled love
anointed her sacred cloth.
A record of our family, worn
daily throughout her life.
We should have buried it with her.
We should have kept it close.

I Know it's Over...

Summer is officially over for us. And since the pool isn't heated, we likely won't go swimming anymore this year (which is a bummer since last year the kids swam on Thanksgiving). Now we'll have to be creative and find other things to do. Uh-oh.





The thing that cracks me up about the following video, is the way Santi says, "Polo!" My kids are so TexMex. Even Abram sometimes says, "Ma-MAH" and Ba-BAH!" What's that all about? 'tan Loco.




In this next one, I love how Marin gives away Santi's position and then takes off. What fine "Strategery." (C'mon, we're fully entrenched in Bush Country.) And just when Santi's about to get caught, the classic line we all used as kids...




"I'm not playing right now."

Evaporation Station

Marin conducted a science experiment over the last few weeks and displayed it at her school's Science Fair on Tuesday night. How surprised we were that she won a blue ribbon and was one of the Fourth Grade Champions!

Marin tracked the evaporation of six liquids: tap water, isopropyl alcohol, vegetable oil, vinegar, lemon juice, and gatorade (thinking the last one was very funny to test) over five days. She did a really great job measuring everyday and recording her "data" in a notebook. When Bri and I asked her how it was going one day, she said: "Well, according to my research..." We gave each other that look parents do when their kids do something very adorable, something they wish they could freeze in time. How I wish that was possible.

Bri was really wonderful and helped her make charts and a bar graph to include on her display. It was a fun project for the two of them. Marin was particularly pleased with the fabric she picked out for her display board. At the store, Santi was so cute trying to help her big sis. She told Marin, "You know, I think you should find something watery. Like evaporation." It was fun to watch the two of them judge which was the "wateriest" print.

Marin included a hands on experiment for people to try. Good thinking!

Trophy Girl!
Marin was in a good company of trophy winners. One student from each of the 4 fourth grade classes was selected as a Fourth Grade Champ!

It was so nice to see her passion for science recognized by a really amazing teacher. He's gotten the kids so fired up about science. Once a week they go to the Science Lab for hands on learning. They also visit the Computer Science Lab once a week. She is LOVING it! I could NOT be happier with Marin's year so far. Hallelujah!

The Soldier and the Hair

Grandpa was deployed to Korea the day after my mom was born. So while she was reaching all the little milestones during her first year, Grandpa was far away, trying to replace the things he was seeing with visions of his new little daughter. Knowing him to be the sentimental type, Granny sent him little mementos of anything Landita. Of the many silly things she sent, were thin wispy locks of my mom's hair. He carried those envelopes, like hope in his pocket, to the 38th parallel.

Somehow it's become a little tradition that Grandpa has in his stores of Grandchildren Memorabilia, little locks of baby hair from each one of us. Here I must insert that Grandpa has "lifted" many items unbeknownst to me, like tiny hair bows, onsies, diapers (clean), baby shoes, etc... So even though he is in a sense, "taking candy from a baby," what's the harm in him wanting to hold close those things most dear? For the toughest guy I know, his heart melts at anything my children do.

So without further adieu... in the spirit of Veterans Day, Abram gets his first cut. One of those special envelopes is coming your way, Grandpa.

M is for MURDER

It all started with a phone call from Michelle. "So, I want to have a party and I want you to help host it with me." I had every intention of saying no considering I have too much to do (I like to think that anyway) and I knew Michelle had even more to do. Then she started pitching me the idea of a 1988 High School Reunion Murder Mystery and my brain went wild. How could I possibly say no to even a tiny hint of unabashed zany fun? Apparently Michelle knows that I can't, and took full advantage to get me on board. The nice thing for me...Michelle did pretty much all the work and pulled it off as the grand gala it was. I've probably included a ridiculous amount of photos. Sorry if you couldn't care less.

Brandon (AKA Rick Ringworm, the Casanova and soap opera co-star) died from a poisoned drink. The first to die was Bobby Ham (played by Aaron) who was also my favorite character. Bobby Ham and his wife met as Lunch Room Helpers in high school. They are tedious when it comes to food prep and always wear hair nets (which they did). Bobby lettered in Home Economics and won the all-county award for selling the most sloppy joes (which is the dish I brought to the party in his honor). In present day, Bobby and his wife own a used car lot, and the savvy salesman he is, annoyingly handed out his business card to the other attendees and kept reciting his slogan, "If it's not a Ham, it's not a Ham." Oh, and he had a toothpick in the corner of his mouth. So sad he was the first to die.
Also pictured above are Kenny Babble, the nerd turned clown (played by Russell), Randy Reporter, the nosey journalist (Kevin), and Steven Spielsen, the big time Hollywood movie maker (played by Nate).

Mallory Majesty, the 88 prom queen (played by Lenor), crowned by Sheena, our class president (Michelle). Monica (AKA Misty Shovenstuff, the school bully turned Secret Service protecting presidential candidate and classmate Nick Nixon) was suspicious of the clown who hates all kids. Also pictured is the amazing potluck spread. So fun. And so were the streamers we put up the night before. Michelle was scaling walls and cabinetry to get those suckers up. Good job!



At a later point, I am going to record here all our friends and their parts. It was so hilarious to walk up to a group of people and hear them carrying on all these fake conversations according to their new personalities. Everyone's demeanor and voices were so dramatic...I was in party heaven. I'm pretty sure Michelle was too.

I have to say that I relished every minute of Judge J. J. Brown and his wife Sylvia (2nd pic in the first group of prom pics) who are the Holbrooks in real life. He played the perfect southern judge and his wife the perfect southern belle. Just shy of whistling Dixie, they played it perfectly.

Everyone played their parts to the hilt, but the best actor of the night was by far Russell as Kenny, the high school nerd turned deranged clown. So much that his performance deserves not one, but two videos to document his performance in the annals of theater history. (The kids liked him the best and I did end up feeling bad for Kenny/Russell because the kids wouldn't stop following and taunting him. Maybe he became enveloped in his charachter a little?)







Who Dunnit?

It was Mollie Ringworm (Shanna) the narcissistic Drama queen turned Soap Opera actress. A very unlikely character considering Kenny and Randy became the usual suspects of the night. Shanna was so sneaky, she was quite the silent killer. She killed me too.


Below are pages from our Murder High School 1988 yearbook. We thought it was hilarious, and apparently, little else matters. We printed it out and had it bound so everyone at the party could sign it. Which they did with yearbook cliches like: "Class of 88, we will live on forever" and "Have a great summer" and "It's been real," etc...

Since I didn't get Prom Pics of everyone at the party, it's nice to have the yearbook so we can remember everyone who was invited.

I had such a great time. Although it will probably be a while before our husbands allow Michelle and me to scheme up another party, I can't wait for what's next. Hmmmm......

Any Given Sunday

This is the scene at our house on any given Sunday. Why fight the inevitable. Abram is a much happier guy sans clothes. We don't often give it a second thought. And we are very blessed to have tile throughout the bottom floor. Well, that's good and bad...slippery when wet.

I love that Abram wants to be near his sisters. Thankfully for him, they put up with naked time pretty well. Such good sisters.


I don't expect anyone other than grandparents to enjoy this video. Grandparents adore chubby baby cheeks.

30 ROCK

Marin broke into the 30's on her 50 Free at Saturday's meet. Congratulations Sweet Thing! She wanted it so badly at State but couldn't quite make it. Her last official time was 42.10. So it seems her hard work has paid off once again. She was elated. She wasn't the only one. I could hear Santi and Abram screaming from across the pool. It was so very cute.




After watching the video, Marin could see that choking on the tumble turn cost her some time. But placing 5th in her first meet was not too shabby. Not too shabby at all. Especially since she's swimming against some hardcore USA swimming veterans. And they want you to know it, boy. Local USA swimming doesn't look too fondly on TAAF and recreational swimming apparently. Oh well, we'll probably stick with TAAF for one more summer. She seems to really like it.

One significant difference with the USA meets is that they are a two-day event. Since she won't be swimming on Sunday (which is the day that most of her races are on) she will have to step it up and learn to swim the events available to her. Many of these are longer distances or strokes she's still learning.

Saturday's meet was also a chance for Marin to prove to herself that she could swim the 100 Back. Although she swims it in practice, she wasn't so confident. She got so nervous that she skipped her flip turns, afraid that she would get disqualified. I really wanted to see them because it has got to be too cute. Nevertheless, she rocked and scored 14 points for her team. We told her afterwards that she didn't even look like she was fading, but she said, "It felt like it. Even my Hulse legs were tired." Ah, poor thing.

In the video, watch how Marin gets pumped up before the race. Classic. I cannot help myself from falling in love with this girl. She is just too hilarious. After she got out of the water, she triumphantly threw both arms into the air in a most Michael Phelpsian way. It was good to see her proud that she finished. But I died laughing.



Her new goal is to make the A team in the 200 Free Relay. This of course means she would have to knock off someone with a seeded time. I can't imagine that going off too well. We'll see how that goes. But we know what happens when Marin is on a mission...

Marin's 50 Free (39.64)

Marin's 100 Back (1:45.03)

Home on the Range

This year our family dressed the old western part. Let me tell you that getting ready to trick-or-treat this year was the best yet. We waited until the last minute to pull our costumes together, and although I do not recommend this method, it made for some silly mad dashing and scavenging for all things cowgirl/boy. We were all improvising and cracking up at the things we were trying to pull off.

In the spirit of Pancho Villa once raiding our town, Abram dressed as a little bandito. Don't you just love that sarape (AKA hospital issue receiving blanket)? I told you we were improvising. Anyway, we are happy to note that a peace agreement was struck between this little villista and his Texas Ranger sisters. Well of course, when there's candy to be had. Perhaps the Texas Ranger sisters themselves were guilty of a little border raiding this year.

Marin couldn't convince Abram to forge through the scary decor and win the prize.

"I like these guys. They are funny guys..."

Abram being introduced to the wonderful world of Tootsie Pops. How many licks does it take to get to the candy center? Not really sure, but there was a LOT of drooling. So much that Abram could find his way home from the sticky drops he left on the sidewalk. Halloween is a gruesome holiday.

Cowgirl Poetry

There is no mistaking it. Santi couldn't stop loving the camera even if she tried. She's also realized that she is in love with cowboy hats. Where have they been all her life? Texas.

These boots are made for walkin'...

Check out Marin's shiny spurs!

The girls couldn't wait to get back home to hand out candy. They were more excited about that than going door to door. Santi was pretty pleased that she taught Abram how to hand out candy. He would reach in his chubby little hand and practically throw the candy at me while saying a very sweet and emphatic, "Thank you!" Fortunately, he didn't chuck candy at any trick-or-treaters.

Again, the logic of border life eludes us. Our neighborhood becomes inundated with people who don't live in our subdivision. This is all fine if they walked the street instead of driving their cars. I think it's dangerous especially since it's dark and kids run out into the street even with parents around. This year was by far the worst we've seen. Since when did trick-or-treating become a drive-thru? I guess, when you're trying to hit up as many houses as possible.

Apparently Mexican nationals also come in droves to get as much candy as they can so they can sell it. You might be thinking, "Selling Halloween candy?" But here, it appears everything is for sale. Puzzling. So the next time you cross the border and someone is trying to sell you a bite size Snickers for a US quarter, it quite possibly came from us.

The funny part to this mob on our house is that Santi was staring out the window to see if anyone was coming to the door when she said with a mixture of panic and disbelief, "Uh...Marin...I'm gonna need some help."

The girls even came up with different strategies to more effectively satisfy their "customers." I've decided that next year, we're handing out pass along cards with our candy. Couldn't hurt could it? Maybe...if someone plans on selling them. Uh-oh.

Here's some of the Mexican candy you are missing out on. That little red pouch with a picture of Michael, the archangel on it (better known here as "Miguelito"), is a liquid candy and crowd favorite. And strangely, there is no nutrition info or list of ingredients. Now that's asking for it.