If Wishes Were Layers....

Hello from the Layers, Gangnam holiday style! 

I am dancing under this sweater.

My BFF-pal Munch has tagged me in a neverending-pay-it-forward blog-a-palooza where I am pressured requested to write about 5 wishes I have for Christmas. 

But, here's the thing: 
((whispering)) I don't believe in wishing. 

My swami, Pema Chodron talks a lot about how hope/wishing is really futile since we have to experience what we will experience in our lives without avoidance or wishing it were different or hoping it would be better soon. 

Yes, seriously. 

(Don't judge, read all about my experience with leaning into the sharp points HERE..then love me more and then come back)

Special Agent is somewhere rolling his eyes at this, although he *tries* to get me. He would say the reason I don't wish is due to one of my layers he calls Spock. WHat?? A Willie Wonka comparison a few months ago and now Spock? 

I will admit to being a little overly logical and realistic, and that I have slightly protruding ears, but...Spock? 

Ok, maybe.

But for a friend, specifically the munch who is making women feel better about themselves all over the blogosphere....

My 5 wishes for this holiday season...by the Meanie Onion

1. Of course, my first wish is that my mother remain in cancer ass-kicking mode and that by Valentines Day we no longer throw lingo like 'white blood count', 'chemo pump', and other yucky cancer-y words. We will be over that shit. And still eating a lot of lunch together.

2. My second wish is for the folks in the Oncology waiting room whose situation is much more uncertain than my mother's to kick cancer's ass as well. :( Get well, darlings. 

3.  This one is none of your beeswax.

4. I wish all servicemen and women serving away from their families don't have to be away much longer. 

5. I wish that those who are sad, lonely or unfulfilled by their lives this season find what they need in the New Year. 

There. Done.  Live Long and Prosper and junk. 

I am happy to link up a few fellow bloggers as well who are awesomesauce and deserve a fly-by.  

Check out Munch, linked above as well. I didn't want you to forget, since he is a friend to all bloggers and will definitely give a shout one when earned. 

De Bie Hive - Although we have never met, we have mutual friends. It WILL happen. I know it. 

Reptiles in the Ice Cream is crazy in all the right ways. I love her long time. She also got her own domain, adios Blogspot..

Rowdy Rodney: Also follow him on Facebook. He has a new book out and I am extremely JEALOUS. He also has a cookie line. You heard me. 

I'll Have it on the Side - She and I are having some issues with blogging regularly, but when she does, it's enjoyable goodness.

Onward HO! Layers Visits Social Wyoming..and is Poetic

Hi there,

I have been blogging it UP with more holiday spirit than I feel over at Social Wyoming this week. One silly poem and a fun little chat about 'decking the walls' (see what I did there?). Check it out and leave me some rad comments so my boss will be uber impressed! um...please?

Social Wyoming, Holiday style! (Because Gangnam Style is soooo last week, yo.)

See you there!

And, because I love you and I know...KNOW you will hustle over to Social Wyo to give me some love, this is for you. This is some seriously powdery snow leaping.

Family Cancer Social Blitz O' Rama...It's A Layer

Hi, hello..

Unlike cool bloggers, I don't have those special days in which I post, except the occasional Throat-punch Thursday, which occasionally occurs on Monday. Or Saturday. Or skips a week.

This day, I am calling Random Wednesday. I had to check the calendar to make sure I was on the right day. It's that random, yo.

I have a few things I want to chat about:

Those of you who knowS me, knowS I don't likes to share a lot about tough times or the accompanying feelings beyond self-righteousness or annoyance. But I shared on my Layers Facebook page (you aren't on it? get going!) that my mom has a small case of cancer, which I am rudely calling "Cancer Light". Before you yell at me about minimizing my poor decrepit (she isn't, she's fab) mother's illness, you needS to knowS a few more things.

• My mother's cancer was caught SUPER early and has been mostly banished from Sandy-land with the biopsy. She got an A+ on her PET scan test! ((Beaming))
• I minimize shtuff because it makes me feel less afraid. 
• Compared to the many very ill people at the oncology center, I feel relieved about my mom's prognosis and 95% treatment success rate.
• I joke about serious matters because it makes me feel less afraid
• I am emotionally stunted

I have guilt that I shared about my mom's diagnosis, since it is her beeswax, but I can't stuff the cancer cat back in the bag  (I also can't keep our real cat off of the lizard cage either, but that is another story).

Cancer is suckariffic and my mom is handling her treatment like the woman she is. She looks awesome and you wouldn't know she was even taking treatments if I hadn't just rudely announced it in the blogosphere. I shouldn't have shared it, but I was so fecking annoyed last week that i couldn't stop myself from posting a public service announcement asking people not to ask those who have cancer WHERE THEIR CANCER IS. This is none of your business. And don't ask her meanface daughter either.

Ask TWIN, she is the nice one.

If you feel you must ask (don't), and the person you ask quietly replies that it is in a place that people don't want to share about, don't AGAIN ask "really, where???". 

Please stop it.

I know you are curious and concerned in a mostly good way, and I will happily regale you with the details of radiation, chemo pumps, white blood counts, my research on Probiotics and my rock-star mother's handling of it all, I promise. But please don't look at her in alarm with what she is calling "the cancer eyes" and screech "I hope your beautiful red hair doesn't fall out!!". 

Seriously, stop that right now.

Although I wish my mom didn't have cancer, there has been a weird silver lining. (Hey, look-a-me being all sunshin-y and shizzle again, yo!)

We are all busy in our family and our extended family life suffers. We can barely manage to get a meal in together which doesn't occur on a national holiday or an anniversary of someone's passing (those lunches just piss me off). I have been openly pouting about this for some time, even demanding I be invited to dinner randomly. We have gotten better, but...we still stink at it.

Until recently.

We have been transporting my very able-bodied mother to treatment every day, taking turns with TWIN. The treatment is pretty fast most days, leaving time to run some errands for my mom in order to keep her away from germs and also just to carry heavy stuff and do the hearing for her (she is hard of hearing). But the cool part is that TWIN and I and Sandy are spending some serious quality time! Some days, I join TWIN on her day for a lunch trio, and she joins mine. It's a FAMILY-CANCER-SOCIAL-BLITZ! 

Did I just say that? You know I did. 

It will be nice if we can keep it up once we don't have to worry about those pesky treatments any longer. Fuck you, treatments!

I had a lot more to tell you, but I forgot. But, I promised some randomness, so....

Dr. Phil's wife appears to be aging backward.

Discuss.

Oh, and there is this. I am proud (most days) to say that this crazy Al Simpson character is from my state. He hasn't always voted my way, but the dude exudes common sense. And, he is hip. Even with a bum knee. Gangnam Al! 


(If you think this is funny, check him out on YouTube saying Snoopy Poopy Poop Dog.)
Al Simpson, please be my grandpa.
And...I'm OUT!

The Best Kind of Following

My kids follow me around the house. Not in an obvious way; more like a fog which trickles in over time, one after the other. They don't really talk to me, but bring their book or electronics in to sit near me after I have snuck away from the noisy TV show they were watching. One arrives, usually to lie on the bed by me. Soon enough, the other rolls in to share my air. I'd love to say it drives me crazy, but the truth is, it's dreamy, animalistic, mother-y goodness which makes me feel like a lioness with her cubs. Purr.

Crud is in the Hiz-Ouse.

An e-bola like crud has descended upon our household. 

Stomach viruses are awesome....said no one ever. 

I have managed to avoid a major collision with the bug, but have been sideswiped a little between bouts of caring for the infirmed. But I AM NOT SICK.

Special Agent and I don't "do" sick. It isn't allowed around here. We reject illness. When it inevitably strikes one of us, this is how the conversation goes

Spouse A: ((sniff)) ((Cough-cough, gag))

Spouse B: You ok?

Spouse A: I'm fine. ((clearing throat))

Spouse B: No you aren't....Oooh, you're getting SICK!!!

Spouse A: No I'm not. ((squinting evil eye at Spouse B)) I'm FINE. 

Spouse B: Yea-heah..Youuuuu're sick. ((Smiling))

Spouse A: I'M NOT SICK!!!

Spouse B: Sick. Siiiiiick. Sick-sick-sick-sick.

Spouse A: Shut up. 

Spouse B: ((singing)) sickety-sick-pants....

Spouse A: SHUT UP! SHUT YOUR MOUTH ((random violence))

Spouse B: ((Walking away backward while mouthing)) SICK.

Special Agent calling me an hour later to
say..."you're sick". ...Jerk.

It isn't much better with our kids. When they say they feel sick, we literally try to talk them out of it. We have had a modicum of success with the strategy and will hold out on it until someone has a fever or throws up TWICE. (Once could just have been a fluke, a bad clam, whatev.) 

Fevers and continued vomiting are a no argument illnesses. Your body is literally PROVING its ill. Fine. Fiiiine. You're sick. 

But how long does this have to go on, geez???? 

Both kids have been through two days EACH of smashing their germy bodies into our couch, intermittently throwing up and groaning. I throw crackers through the door into the couch area and roll a bottle of Gatorade their way. 

 I try to be nice and kind, but I don't have a ton of stamina after about...4 hours of this sick business. You've thrown up everything you could possibly have had in your body (and then some). Get well...Now. 

Consequently, our kids are pretty tough. The insurance lady just noted with amazement that we haven't had a claim yet this year for either kid. And I haven't even been employing my fish antibiotic treatment! 

Our daughter has yelled at me several times today that she is FINE, in between school, trying out for basketball, doing her math homework and throwing up. I keep winging crackers at her,but she won't eat 'em. 

So don't come over. Stay far away from us for at least 10 days. We have a little something going on around here. 

But, WE ARE NOT SICK. 

Melancholy

The lonesome oak tree held its fire

til November...

We watched the last brown leaf 

hit the ground and blow away....

An evening gunshot let him know 

the hunt was over...

A familiar cold moved in

somewhere between snow and rain...

 - Robert Earl Keen

I did some errands and couldn't help but notice all of the hunters in town, gathering their supplies together and smiling and at the cool, damp weather which lends to their success. I smiled at them, groups of men looking like boys. 

I felt sorry for myself, sorry for my loss, which is not new but always with me. I ate some fresh bread, ripped in chunks from the loaf in my cart while i slowly pushed around the aisles of light bulbs and steel wool. 

I frowned at the hunters behind their backs. Somewhere, someone had no idea that next year, their hunter won't not be among these boy-men. And then he won't be there for the next six years, either. He isn't coming back. 

I felt sad for my mother. I felt sad for a friend who lost her hunter just last month. I felt bad for fatherless and grandfatherless children. But mostly, I felt bad for myself. 

I miss him.

I'm Sunshiny and Junk

So yeah.......

Remember I was just telling you about being described as being "nice like Gene Wilder in Willie Wonka in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory?" If not, look here.

It kind of seemed like an insult and compliment all rolled into one freaky eyed, frizzy haired rich guy.

I'll admit, I can be a bit sarcastic and droll. I am no Mary Poppins or Maria Von Trapp,. But, apparently, someone, namely the fabu blogger DeBie Hive thinks my blog is... *sniff*

Sunshiny.
((wiping nose on arm))

She gave me the Sunshine Award. Isn't that nice? And here when I have been a bad, neglectful blog-mommy? I have been trying to do better and it made my Willie-Wonka heart skip a beat when I saw it. Go check her out. Give her a little layers shout-out and shizzle.

She likes me.
She really likes me.

Yep, I could be over-doing it. But an award is an award, so I am taking it. What did you accomplish today, sucka?

 These awards are a nice way for bloggers to recognize each other and share our blogs with other followers of other blogs. So, play along. Go check her out. Give her a little layers shout-out and shizzle. Here is the link a-gain.

DeBie Hive

Awardees are supposed to answer the following eight questions, then nominate other bloggers. I included a lot of photos, because it's Sunday and I am still in my jammies, and because I don't want to clean the house. 

1. What is your favorite Christmas/holiday movie?  Hands down, it's the cartoon version of Dr. Suess'  The Grinch, with a special shout out to the dog with the bone tied to his head.  You're a foul one, Mr. Carey, for the remake that made people forget the funny and sweet original. 

YES! 

MEH.

2. What is your favorite flower? I really like orchids, which are bold and simple all at once. I also lurve anything purple which grows wild, which reminds me of the line in The Color Purple about everything wanting to be loved. The Big Horn Mountains near our home always have a beautiful display in the spring.  

I know. I live an hour away from this. Muah.

3. What is your favorite non-alcoholic beverage?  Bigelow "Constant Comment" grocery store tea. Every day. I carry it with me since I find the name embarrassing to ask for in a restaurant. And because I am addicted to it. And because I am preparing to be an old lady.

How about a cuppa tea, Granny?

4.  What is your passion?  Special Agent and I just discussed this and....I don't appear to have one. He said maybe being bossy? :-/ I like that I don't have a white hot passion. I am a layered person, made up of a lot of different interests. 

5.  What is your favorite time of year?  I love fall, I always have. I dress in fall colors, my house is decorated in fall colors, I sometimes pretend I am a leaf. Unfortunately, this is my allergy season so I spend a lot of time enjoying it through a Kleenex and Claritin-induced haze while wishing for the first frost. 

6.  What is your favorite time of day?  A time of day called The Gloaming. That moment between day and night when just for a moment, the whole world gets quiet. It feels like the world is perfect and calm, just for that very moment, if no other. So no talking.

  

7.  What is your favorite physical activity?  I am not a person who likes exercise. I tried paddle boarding this summer and I loved it. It required concentration and balance and was in a beautiful surrounding. I was having a zen moment until Special Agent and the boy launched an attack on me from their kayak. Boys. 

8.  What is your favorite vacation?  I love traveling, and wish I had the means to go more. If you are seeing a trend here, i like things which are calming, so no Disney for me. I like cool-chilling, with a few fun excursions mixed in. In the Dominican we lounged around most days but included zip lining and surf lessons excursions to keep it interesting. 

The surfers are really us, the shark...is in disguise.

I am pitching some sunshine to the following blogs, so go have a look-see here or on Facebook.

Musings of Munch - haha, funny guy. Snarky goodness. Also, he is a male model for Ambercrombie & Fitch

Reptiles in the Ice Cream - Oh man, strap yourself in. The girl is much funny. And thoughtful.

I'll Have it On The Side - I am trying to arrange our children to be married. We would be some awesomely embarrassing in laws. 

The Loaded Handbag - I haven't been a good follower of blogs, and I miss what is going on with this one. I am tuning back in ASAP. I just read her blog and now I want to move in with her.

Throat Punch Tuesday

Dear this week,
You suck. 

Yes, and it is only Tuesday. Monday dropped in and kicked me in the layers yesterday and Tuesday is not looking any shinier. 

Today's nonsense was (in a round about way) brought to you by the worst idea in retail: 

No..

Not this either, although this is just weird and wrong. 

Not even Handerpants...








It's bathroom products which are housed in glass containers. This combined with tile flooring is akin to money with wings at my house. I am getting wrinkly and old waaaaay before my time because these jars and bottles of eye cream and youthful splendor lotion end up humpty-dumpty'ed on the tile after about 2 applications. 

Yes, I have considered scooping up and using the product post-break (don't judge), but the idea of rubbing splintered glass into my already not-youthful skin only allows me to consider it for about... 13 seconds. Then I frown until that wrinkle between my eyes pulsates and throw it all away. 

Adding injury to insult today was Special Agent, who was lovingly changing light bulbs in his Superman underoos when, while throwing away cramming the old bulbs in the trash, encountered my latest broken miracle cream container and sliced his knuckle well, off. Craaap. Much blood oozery and swearing. 

We loaded up our still home baboo (who was also still in his underoos when notified of the injury) and headed off to the doc, post-haste. Special Agent had already told me he wanted to go to the walk in-clinic, to which I agreed might be faster than the local ER. He held gauze over his bloody grossness as I drove.

We hustled to the walk in clinic of his choice..
 which was closed. 

So, we went to the other clinic. 
Also closed.

I grew tired of dicking around and drove to the open-24-7-ER, much to the annoyance of Special Agent. He was adamant he would NOT be going to the ER. I drove there anyway, ignoring him and his bloody nub of a knuckle. 

He insisted we drive back home and wait for the clinic to open. 
I wanted to go in so we could get things taken care of NOW since we were already HERE.

He allowed he didn't like the ER and didn't feel like they offered a quality service. 
I condescendingly reminded him that the clinic we were trying to go to originally is a branch of the same ER we are arguing in front of presently. 

I think Special Agent must have suffering from blood-loss related illness, because at some point he stomped toward the ER doors just to prove that I HAVE to have my way, but then I wouldn't let him go in, since he didn't want to. It was the height of ridiculous arguing for spouses. 

The Baboo sat in the back and looked at us like we were both annoying idiots. 
I think he might have been right. 

At some point, I think Special Agent worried that I might be wishing he would bleed to death because he suggested we get a drive through breakfast while we waited. 

BREAKFAST!!!!???!!! I fumed as i drove to a McDonald's for Egg Mcmuffins. I considered attacking him, but 
a) we were in a drive-thru
b) he couldn't really defend himself while holding his finger and 
c) I didn't want his drippy blood all over my car. 

CAN I SUPERSIZE THAT COFFEE?????

We got our food and I headed back to the clinic. We ate in the car and ventilated the tension through the open car windows. We watched all of the docs and nurses roll in, and stand around outside healthily smoking cigs. I pointed to the child coming in, and let Special Agent know that was likely his doc. We walked in just as they opened and were 01 in the serving line. 

The cut was actually a cut-OUT, so there wasn't much to be done about the wound except irrigate it and wrap it in dressings. I delighted only mildly that Special Agent had to get a tetanus shot (not in the ass, bummer) and that his finger dressing makes him look a little like this guy. 

And, that the doc was the child I pointed out from the parking lot. 

Happy Tuesday at The Layers. The couch is calling me....  

ADD Post: Cooking and Ranting...ooh, and a Lizard..and Cake.

I feel it...
do you?

Fall cometh.

Even bears like fall....

I love Fall (I want to call it Autumn publicly, but the kids told me it sounds stupid, so fine..). Fall is beautiful and amazeballs. 

Even though my hay fever makes me attempt to sneeze out a kidney for many weeks.

It's a ridiculous 100 degrees in Wyoming today, which makes one think there could be something to that global warming, El nino business, no matter what causes it. All we really know is that it has been one hot summer and everyone is ready for what fall is bound to bring:

Cooler temperatures!

Kids back to school!

Cooking!

Politics?

Um, wait a minute. Did I just say politics? No, no, no, that won't do at all. Politics doesn't let you turn off the smelly and damp air conditioning. It doesn't let you send your brood off into the bright sun to learn stuffs while you drink tea and lurk on Facebook. And it definitely doesn't include white flour or buttah.

The political climate sucks. Neither of the POTUS candidates are good, and some aspects of each are downright frightening. There is a lot of spin and rhetoric swirling around, some by me. Some while I am cooking. I have opinions, yo. It's a layer.

I own a small TV we bought when we were first married (13"?) that sits in the kitchen. Modern cable has made it possible to get a whole lotta channels and I use them to watch morning news, bad re-runs and Chris Matthews rounding up sex perverts on Dateline while I cook or clean. Or rant. Or all of the above.

I have been doing a lot of Donna Reed style cooking lately, trying to prevent my addled brain from driving like a robot to buy dinner in a sack in between our many practices. Special Agent goes to hide in the backyard when he sees me in an apron over the weekend, yelling at the TV while bagging up prepared batches of smell-good meals I didn't let anyone eat immediately, and shakes his head when he rolls through as I am pouring chicken stock into muffin tins to freeze while grumbling.. 'WHY we CA-ARE who other people MARRY and WH-YY people who purport to support FA-REEDOM want to decide MYYY political party for me. .." Special Agent knows this cooking behavior leads to home-cooked, tasty food, but that it will only appear occasionally between our days of multiple practices, evening meetings and food delivered by teenagers in a piece-of-shit car. The ranting part on the other hand is kind of continual. So, he hides out.

Me, talking to Conservatives..

Sometimes I get the kids on the bandwagon of the cooking and the ranting. Someday we are all going to a march. As soon as my conservative state gets one worth marching in. And, we will tailgate prior with good eats. I have some things in the freezer that will be perfect. 

I have made this TWICE this week, after everyone liked it so well the first time. The second time I made it into muffins, so I can pretend it is....breakfast? A healthy-ish snack (fruit and olive oil are healthy, you know), or if we are running late and just need to snatch and grab sustenance for a few hours.

Do you *think* Donna Reed ever succumbed to dessert as a healthy snack??
No, no, you're right. Probably not. Fail.

Here is the Olive Oil Cake with Grapes

I had champagne grapes from Bountiful Baskets, which were small and sweet, just like me. It made it more blueberry muffin looking. The second batch was made with orange zest and pecans substitutions, because that is what I had on hand, yo. Sue me.

P.S. Because I am also the best mom, evah.....I made a deal with the boy that he could get a lizard if he got a touchdown at football. Have a goal, right? Wrong. The kid has made quite a few now and thinks he needs a lizard for EACH TOUCHDOWN. And, no. After dropping two bills on a bearded dragon and her accouterments, we are going to be a ONE lizard family. 

And two dogs. 
And two cats. 
(We had a an aquatic frog, but he died a violent death. A suspected frog-i-cide
Suspect: The cat.)

This definitely flew in the face of my 'nothing-else-that-poops-is-living-here' rule, but look how happy he is? (The boy, not the lizard. Elly, the wonderful lizard of Oz is female. We think. I am NOT checking.)

See her posing for the camera? A natural...

Finn wears her around on his shirt, which is cute now, but will not land him dates if it is still happening at 15. Don't tell the kids, but sometimes when they aren't here...I hold her too. The cats would like to hold her in their teeth.

True story: I went in the other day and she was on a toy motorcycle the boy had put in for fun. Swear it. I ran to get the camera, but no. Staging it felt wrong, so no lizard motorcycle pic for you. 

But she does blog...

The Suspense is Terrible...I Hope It'll Last..

I likes to make new friends.
It's a layer, yo.

People are interesting creatures - all a slightly different hot mess of their own making, just like moi.

Neato.

But I wouldn't exactly call myself "friendly". And apparently, neither would a new online friend of a friend, who recently described me as being "nice like Gene Wilder in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory..".

Say WHUT??

I needed to think on this a minute. Willy Wonka? From Wonkaland? I made a little table to compare and contrast:

(Of course I have things to do, why do you ask?)

Willie Wonka	The Onion at A Lot of Layers
Frizzy hair	Curly hair which tends toward frizziness
Crazy eyes	Crazy eye (in photos I always appear stoned)
Condescending	Condescending..,duh
Secretly mean to kids	Only really likes own kids
Aloof	Emotionally cut off
Flips out on the boat ride	Flips out when she finds one glove
Eats a candy teacup	Drinks tea, does not eat cup. Usually
Shares life lessons	Occasionally overshares
Zillions of dollars	({crickets}}
An active and creative imagination	Imaginary fantasies of becoming famous
Oompa Loompas	Small children
Fashionable purple suit	Fashionably challenged
Has a fizzy lifting drinks floating room	Occasionally burps
Goose that lays golden eggs	Wants to raise chickens in town

Well, what do you know...?


What happens when I find one glove laying around...