Super Bowl Sunday

A beautiful day in Madison finally. Above freezing, we were out in the driveway breaking up ice with a pick axe and visiting with neighbors.

One daughter sledding and goofing with friends. One happy dog frolicking in the snow.






One daughter dutifully doing homework after a fun night with her youth group in Milwaukee seeing the Bucks.



Our team this year is The Boss. We always enjoy Super Bowl Sunday like the holiday that it is. Cosmos, beer, fried goodies, chips, salsa and guacamole (uh oh, Bruce just told us to put the guac down and turn up our TV, and so we do).



Tramps like us, baby we were born to run.

The shiny ball

Reality is sinking in. School is same, friends are same, homework is same, drama is same. Mid-winter teenage blues in good old Wisconsin, after six months of excitement traveling the globe. A wrestle with the dog might help ease the transition pains. Mom can make it better just by listening. That's new for me. The gnawing boredom and restlessness of adolescence just is what it is and now I do see I can't always make it better. I can finally stand back and say what I should have been saying all along, "I know you hurt. It will eventually feel better." Then quick and quiet, leave the room before I open my yap again and ruin everything.

Boredom, restlessness, argumentativeness, complaints about friends, homework, teachers, hair, skin, etc. Consider them all shiny balls in the kid's pocket, says a person smarter than me about these things. Oftentimes, all she wants to do is hold out her hand and show mama the shiny ball. Then put it away. Then take it out and show it again. And that's how it goes. It's frustrating to just look at the shiny balls--"Why show me if you don't want me to do anything about it?" No touchy. Only looky. It's going to be a long five years with a big plumping shot of Botox at the end of it all to fill in the crevasses developing between my eyes.

The mother of invention...

Regular

My Space

This group I like to call the Quadruple J. All our first names begin with J.

J says tonight, "I tell them (her kids) to at least wait until I get my coat off before you start yelling at me about this or that or what you need."

I had a boss who had a hard and fast rule that nobody could talk to her until her coat was off. She frightened many a resident physician desperate for her help with a withering look, glancing first at them and then her lapels. They would run off and hide until the coat was off.

And so, Quadruple J has come up with a new invention, preliminarily called "Mom in a Bubble" It's an inflatable room, installed just inside any door where a mom comes in from a long day at work. The bubble room has a coat rack, a little chair, a place to put purse and/or briefcase, a hook for keys and a table to set the cell phone, review the mail, check the answering machine and sip the glass of red wine that is placed there each afternoon at 5pm by mystery butler (details to be worked out here). There's a spot to kick off the heels and change to birkies or slippers and a mirror to check on what the hair/makeup situation looked like those last few hours at work, yielding potential information for tomorrow's lipstick and eye makeup choices. Made of a space age vinyl developed by NASA, the bubble is impenetrable to knives, pencils, geometry compasses and other sharp objects that kids might use to try to get at the mom for complaints, criticisms, sibling fights, transportation needs, slumber party thoughts, etc.... Only when the mom is ready and has taken a deep breath, ready to face the enemy, does she unzip the one way zipper from the inside and step into the mayhem. We are pretty sure we have a winner here so copyrights have been filed.

Inaugural Ball, Madison style

We really can dress up! I knew we had it in us. So much time to think about this night and it finally came. The temperature outside was below zero but that didn't stop Madisonians from tapping the keg and getting down to the business of a party. What a welcome back for me and Chip, riding the coattails of the Presidential inauguration. We are shameless in our attempts to get a party in our honor, of sorts. Hey, we voted for him.

Everyone asks, "So how was it (England)?" How can I sum it up? Allison told me, "Mom, they don't really care, just say it was fun."

Tonight was fun.












Happy happy Americans.

Emerging from the fog in my head

Tin Woodsman: What have you learned, Dorothy?
Dorothy: Well, I - I think that it - it wasn't enough to just want to see Uncle Henry and Auntie Em - and it's that - if I ever go looking for my heart's desire again, I won't look any further than my own back yard. Because if it isn't there, I never really lost it to begin with! Is that right?


What a weird transition this week. I felt fine for the first two days after we came home and then went into a dream state for most of the week. It was an odd sort of fugue. I would feel fine and then suddenly become sleepy and unable to think clearly. I was ravenously hungry at 10:30am. I would forget to eat dinner. It all makes sense time zone wise but still. Weird.

The Obama Inaugural Party is set for tomorrow night. We're getting dressed up in Madison, as rare a phenomenon as seeing the Northern Lights. It happens but it's fleeting and you will likely not see it again. Some are panicking, some are questioning what to wear. I think there is sometimes too much "relaxation" of etiquette in the modern age. People should know how to dress when the invitation reads "formal". That shouldn't be scary and unfamiliar. There are times in life when it is appropriate...weddings, funerals, Inaugural Balls.

I hope to look stunning but will settle for pretty. Pretty ok. Pretty swell. Pretty damn happy about my new President.

Haven't had my camera out in a week. It's time to bring it out. A quick picture out the back door of one of my favorite views in Madison, sunset in my own backyard.

What a day to be an American

Lord, in the memory of all the saints who from their labors rest, and in the joy of a new beginning, we ask you to help us work for that day when black will not be asked to get back, when brown can stick around -- (laughter) -- when yellow will be mellow -- (laughter) -- when the red man can get ahead, man -- (laughter) -- and when white will embrace what is right.

Let all those who do justice and love mercy say amen.

AUDIENCE: Amen!

REV. LOWERY: Say amen --

AUDIENCE: Amen!

REV. LOWERY: -- and amen.

AUDIENCE: Amen! (Cheers, applause.)

END.

The television has been on since 7am. Thirteen hours of coverage and we're not done yet. The Inaugural Balls are still to come. What will Michelle wear? Will she and Barack dance more than a waltz? Get a little funky? I really hope so.

A generous neighbor opens her house to any who want to watch the inauguration en masse. Tears intermittently all day, especially listening to my African American fellow citizens talk emotionally about how meaningful this day is, not only to them but to the legacy of their parents and grandparents who fought hard for civil rights, never daring to believe in our lifetimes, there would be an African American U.S. president.

The bloom will be off the rose tomorrow as we, especially Barack Obama, have to get down to the hard tasks at hand, But today, I'm indulging in what feels like a holiday. Lots of phone calls, not much work getting done, ate too much, had champagne before noon.

Welcome home indeed

Both girls cried at different times in the past 24 hours out of relief and joy at being home in their own beds, with their pets. Both girls also in different stages of panic about returning to their schools next week. One giddy, one just downright worried.

Up at 4:30am, the benefit of this particular time change, ready for action. Laundry in, pet naughtiness rooted out and dealt with, coffee and donuts by 11am despite two dead car batteries. AAA, many thanks on that front. Coffee all day, friends in and out, waving from cars, neighbors stopping cars and getting out to give hugs. A big crockpot of chili for dinner and a night in front of the telly.

The plows are flying by the house getting rid of the snow that was unplowable two days ago because of the temperatures. It's positively balmy today at 14 degrees.

The pets still getting used to us, even though we're hugging them and mauling them as if they know us.

No pictures. I'm tired and unfocused, so here's an old one.