Boiling frogs

I have been busy with work and kids and life. My house is marginally under control. Last night I attended a meeting for the school superintendent. Three years ago he came on board as the economy began to sink. He had the schools start over and make a 10% cut in every building, rebuilding their schools from the ground up. 60 district employees were laid off. At this new meeting he was warning us that another cut with as much severity was on its way. He described the state of education in America. It was scary.





Where we used to be number one in the world we have fallen to 12th in College graduation for those that start College and finish. He told us that overall in comparing students in America to the rest of the world, we are now closer to 38th in knowledge. Fourth and eighth graders take a test world wide and this is where we line up with the results.





When you pin down Oregon, it gets worse. Most states have a mandated 180 days of school. Oregon does not. Our children go to school each year for 161 to 164 days on average, with more days cut expected. Over the course of kindergarten through high school that totals up to a whole year less of school than the 46 other states. The teachers are still told to teach the curriculum but with less contact with the students. We rank 36 out of 50. Not last, but on the down hill side.





He compared the problem to the frog in hot water. You put a frog in hot water and he realizes its hot and jumps out. If you put the frog in cold water then heat the water slowly to boiling point, the frog does not realize the water is getting too hot and boils to death. The situation is a slow boil and no one is paying attention. Oregon being one of the worst states in America.





Education used to get 44% of the state pie. The pie is shrinking and this year the cut for education is 38% not 44%. That is millions of dollars for our school district vanishing. Thus the reason for the town hall meetings. The superintendent is desperate for ideas and help and to make the public aware of the strained future of our children's education.





It makes me want to put my child in private school. Not that I haven't always wanted to have my children in private school. I have been good at taking advantage to the programs offered by the district. The boys did band along with the rest of the regular curriculum.





What got my attention was talking about preparing our children to compete globally. The problem with that argument is foreign language is not offered until high school and only after freshman year. We are expected to compete globally without learning a language. Studies show the best time to teach children a language is when they are young. They just need one other language then all the others come easily. With this budget crisis I can see this is another area that will be lost. I also see band on the chopping block. Perhaps we can do higher fees for participation. Tom talks about how he had to pay much more for participating in sports than our children do now.





I know we have to keep up with technology, but sometimes I feel we are moving away from the basics to get the technology. Not teaching the roots. Doing math with calculators before learning to add the numbers. They have that much more history to tackle than we had. Writing is on computers, which I love. I wish the teacher had the children e-mail assignments in. My Dad did that for college classes. I have been having Trevor do that for his English class. It guaranteed the assignment was delivered on time. I wish we could do that for math.





The basics are reading writing and arithmetic. That is the core. Add social studies and history and of course science, then the new wellness class. It is a lot to teach and for students to absorb.

They are so much more visual learners now with the advent of TV.



We watch the discovery channel and cant catch enough of it all. Tom with his engineering background will put holes in the theory on a program to show the boys not to take everything at face value. Theory is not fact.



I battle the violent games of Halo. The boys should be doing their homework, not sitting playing video games. Those poor teachers are trying to educate students in worse households than ours. We are supposed to be the middle class and I can't even get my children motivated when I care. What about those families that don't care and are still sending their children to school. No wonder teachers are burned out and frusterated. We are demanding the world and offering nothing to assist in how to achieve it.



No wonder the superintendant is begging for help and inovative ideas. He is being sucked dry and tossed about like a crumpled note. I don't have the answers. I am just glad that I don't have to teach my children. I will try to do as much to help and encourage the teachers as possible, and thank goodness it is not me in the classroom.

Cold weather

The cold weather has arrived early this year. It reminds me of the stories my dad would tell of Mount hood getting so much snow on the magic mile that they had to plow an opening for the lifts to go up the hill. The season started before Halloween. Two feet at Ski Bowl before Thanksgiving. If only we could ski.

I honestly doubt Riley will ever ski again. We are passed that window of time where you can introduce a sport to your children and have them fall in love with it. What they will remember are those early morning hours. Having to get up at five AM to leave the house just after six to make it to the mountain for the first run before anyone else gets there. No lines, but for the boys, they did not like those early hours.

Trevor may take it up again. He has just gotten so big that I worry if he falls he may really do himself some damage. The bigger they are the harder they fall. Its one reason you need to start early learning to ski. Toddlers only fall two feet when they topple over. Trevor would make a good snow boarder perhaps. Perish the thought.

Today Trevor is out practicing for the Macy's Parade on Friday. Its 23 degrees outside. I stopped by Wilco and bought him the required sweatshirt all in black. I also got him some heavy duty long johns, both top and bottom. I found a knit skull cap and removed the logo so he could wear it under the Santa hat. I tried to find gloves that would not interfere with the musical instruments. I am not sure they will work, but we'll see. Trevor is carrying the crash symbols for percussion. He only hits them rarely.

He is to be at the school at 5:30 am to catch the bus. Tom will drop Trevor on his way to work. I have to work myself. I know one of the other moms who is going. She will take lots of pictures.

Riley is now old enough to get his permit, but he is beginning to shy away from the idea. The weather is a big turn off with the cold and ice. He could be one of the first in his class to get his license. We even have a spare car. Tom says he wants to take Riley out first. Fine with me. but I think it would be better if I took him to a parking lot at one of the schools over this break and had him practice in preparation of his father. He has driven a golf cart and bumper cars. Riley thinks driving the Cadillac will be fun. Tom doesn't drive the Caddy in this weather, so that will have to wait. The Caddy has rear wheel drive.

Tom was excited to get the Christmas tree. the store next door from my work just got their delivery. I texted Tom and told him to get the $30 tree. He has the jeep, which can hold the tree. He comes home Tuesday with the tree.

I am laughing. The boys say "What tree?" . The tree is a table top size. It is maybe three feet. I say its an adorable Charlie Brown tree, but it is nicer than that. Its a Noble but it is so small it looks like just the top of a tree. Tom looks sheepish. He said he couldn't fit any of the bigger ones into the car. I don't know about that. I have been bringing trees home for years, jambed in to the back.

This one even has a nailed on stand. We may have to replace it by Christmas it will be so dried out. Tom loves the convenience of the stand and how quickly it is decorated. I don't have to use half of our decorations as the tree is pint size.

It is somewhat my fault. I have been getting the five to seven foot trees and then setting them up on a coffee table for the illusion of a bigger tree and having lots of room below for presents. Tom's tree fits on a side table. I don't even have to put the table in storage as I need it to put the tree on it for height.

It all looks lovely in the end and it was so easy. The mantle is decorated with artificial garlands and our toy soldiers. The stockings are hung. We haven't even reached Thanksgiving.

The symphony

List and Mauler. It was good but not my favorite pieces. Mauler's concert is thought to be unfinished. It has parts disturbing with gaps in the music, where it seems as if instruments are missing. He wrote it after he found his wife was having an affair, so the music itself is disturbing. List was a piano concerto. Lovely and lyrical with lots of running scales. It evokes tears and smiles with the playing.

Trevor sits sternly, concentrating on the music. Riley is board. He tries to sit still, but with difficulty. Luckily List is a short piece intermission comes quickly. This is because Mauler is 72 minutes long for the second half. Riley puts his head on my shoulder and shuts his eyes. Occasionally lifting his head when the music gets louder or disruptive.

The seat started out behind Margaret. Students are still only $10 at the door. I ask for seats close to Margaret's, not realizing Margaret's seats are down in a corner. At intermission we all move to the middle having scoped out vacant seat more centrally located. Margaret and her group move with us.

We are near the front so we can see the expressions on the musician's faces and follow closely the conductor's baton. The conductor has big hair that flies around as he leaps and gestures. He is entertaining to watch. Mauler is a challenging piece. It hasn't been performed in 20 years by the orchestra in Portland. It is not as popular as other composers. I can understand why having heard it now.

The day began with my warning the boys we would leave at 4:00 to go to dinner with Margaret. She calls to warn us the weather may be turning nasty. Tom tells me to take the jeep. I had planned on it anyway as it has seat warmers for this cold weather. The boys whine about dressing up. I tell them ties and button down shirts. They don't have to wear suit jackets. More whining occurs. I finally settle for just having nice clothes. I had told Trevor dark pants, to which he agreed. He put on a black shirt to go with it. He thought it was kind of goth to be all in black, but he looked pretty handsome. He compared the look with Spider man Three when Spidy turns evil for a while. But he felt comfortable with his clothes and that was what counts.

Riley kept to his Hawaiian shirts. He wore one of the new silk ones I gave him for his birthday. He buttoned it all the way us to look more formal. It made me smile when I noticed. Well, they looked clean and presentable, and definitely, they have their own style.

I make them spend a half hour looking for their wallets for ID so we can get the student discounts. Good thing we started early with the search as it takes the full amount of time. Both boys have no idea where their wallets are. Trevor ends up with his Malibu raceway ID. Riley finally finds his wallet in a kitchen drawer.

We are off. The rain is coming down and my sky light leaks water into the walls of the car. When we bought the car, it had a totalled title for water damage. I am thinking it wasn't immersed at all. I think the car leaks in the rain. It drives, which is all I care about. I have towels to mop up the moisture. The rain doesn't hit us. It slides down the inside of the walls and comes out on the floor in the back seat, or through the central light in the middle of the front area, missing all the passengers.

My old Saturn used to leak through the sky light. It would dump a pool of water right on Tom first thing in the morning when he started the car to back down our driveway. Riley says lets not get a car with a sky light again, they tend to leak.

We arrive early at the restaurant. I take the opportunity to call my sister in New York and say "Hi" to my 3 year old nephew and his brother. We put them on speaker so the boys can talk also. That kills the time quickly.

In the restaurant, Margaret is already waiting with her friends. She has a regular group that attends the symphony with her. Her old friend Martha, My Dad used to work with her husband Bob. Martha and Margaret had their children close together. Jen is good friends with Kim, Martha's daughter. It is a two generational friendship that binds them even closer. Hugh is also there, with his pad of paper to play hang man with the boys.

It has become our game to play hangman while out to dinner. It is great entertainment and keeps the boys occupied until the food arrives. Trevor orders a five meat pizza all for himself and proceeds to eat the whole thing, all by himself. Riley orders a turkey dip, which is something like the roast beef dip au jous, but with turkey. He eats all of his sandwich also. I order a southwest salad, but forget to have them leave off the olives. It is still good, but I prefer no olives. Hugh orders the spinach ravioli which looks delightful. Martha orders the same. Margaret gets a salad with the dressing on the side. A delicious foccacia bread is served soft and hot. The boys wolf it down. Bread is a big part of our diet.

The boys also order Italian sodas. Strawberry vanilla for Trevor and Blackberry Vanilla for Riley. The waitress says she had never thought of combining flavors. Trevor says when you do it at a soda fountain and get all the flavors it's called a "Graveyard". I don't like "Graveyards" but Trevor does make them often when we do fast food.

The time comes for us all to pay our bills and get to the symphony. I need a little more time as I am buying our tickets at the door and need to stand in line. I am not worried as the symphony always has seats available. I just wish I had known exactly where Margaret's seats were. We would have chosen seats to her left instead of behind.

Trevor wants to do the balcony next time. I am glad he wants a next time. January is the next time Margaret is going. I will have to see if Riley wants to go again. Perhaps pick a more popular composer. But over all we all had fun and enjoyed the night. Tom is in bed half asleep watching the news when we get home. The news men are predicting snow at high elevations and slick roads tomorrow. I will drive carefully to work.

Sunday Morning

I get my money back. Trevor did not do chores. He came home with a friend from band practice and played all day. The young man was picked up only moments before I arrived home. I am glad they had fun, but today we will try and tackle the mess together. That will not be fun.



My niece has introduced the boys to Saturday Night Live. I went to bed, kicking the dog and the cats out of my room. I slept soundly, only occasionally disturbed by the laughter from downstairs. They could have stayed up all night for all I knew in the end. I loved the sound sleep for once.

The scratching at the door I at first ignored, then yell "No". An hour later the scratching was back. Light shined through the windows, I knew it was morning. The clock said 7:30am which means it was only 6:50 am. Tom keeps the bed room clock at least a half hour fast for psychological reasons. We are rarely late for work, if when looking at the clock first thing in the morning we already think we are running late.

The cats are lined up at the door with the dog standing behind them waiting his turn in last place. There does seem to be something wrong with that order. In our house the cats rule over the dog. They are please that the door is opening, but everyone waits for my invitation to enter before crossing the threshold, cats first.

I crawl back in bed with a cat meowing on my pillow, letting me know he did not appreciate being shut out of my room all night. The dog leaps up on the bed and waits for his invitation to crawl under the covers and curl up next to my belly before he will settle down. The other cat lay on the floor, content just to be back in the Queen's royal room.

We all fall back to sleep for another hour, but the light coming in prevents me from finding the deep oblivion again for long. I get up and check on the boys. They are sound asleep. I wake Trevor and ask how late they stayed up. It takes a few minutes to wake him, he is so deeply asleep. He mumbles and moans in complaint, finally he says they only stayed up until the show ended. It seemed a lot later to me last night. I couldn't see the clock without making an effort so I didn't look last night when I heard the laughter. Besides they were having fun and it's vacation. Riley is good about putting himself to bed when he is tired. Trevor wouldn't have stayed up downstairs without company. So they probably did go to bed after the show was over.

I will let them sleep in a little, but Riley needs to take his pills fairly close to on schedule. We let it go an hour or two, but try to be consistent. Mornings are good. He takes them right before catching the bus, 7:55 am. That gives him most of the evening to choose when to take them at night.

I was so please with his numbers, 123,000 platelets. That was a great leap. It was like the leap from 64, 000 to 95,000 he had before. With any luck perhaps he will have another great leap, defy the odds. There is a small group,(very small), 10% that do recover and do not relapse using this treatment. Tom is not placing any bets, but I am keeping my hopes up. The doctor was able to put Tom off with the numbers improving again. He also extended our time on the drugs. Nine months is now a year on the cyclosporine.

Cyclosporine is an immune suppressant. It is hard on the kidneys and liver. He will be weaned off slowly when it it happens. The blood levels will be watched closely again. He must remember to drink lots of fluids while taking the drugs to prevent damage to his organs. He is a teenager, not always the most reliable. He has been a real trooper through all of this, but then he hasn't had much choice.

So the boys sleep on this wet and damp morning, enjoying the opportunity to sleep in. I wont spoil it, but at some point I will get them up. They can't sleep all day. Tonight I am taking them to dinner and the symphony with Margaret and Hugh. They will dress up.

It is amazing what clothes do to their personalities. When they dress up they seem to realize that more is expected of their behavior. I feel like I have real pending adult children for once. Perhaps its because we are doing an activity. But Trevor definitely doesn't behave this nice respectful way as well when we go to Bullwinkels for the end of season parties. There he ditches me for the games and disappears. He sits with his friends and leaves me to fend for myself. When we do the symphony, the boys stay close. They carry on conversations. They love to stand in line and order drinks and desserts from the counter before the performance and at the intermission. I get comments from total strangers about how pleased they are to see young people attending the concerts and how well my boys behave.

The symphony only costs $10 for students. The concerts are never sold out. They want to encourage young musicians and future patrons, give them the opportunity to hear the concerts. My seat on the other hand runs about $75. You get a big break for season tickets or senior citizen tickets.

I just can't pull it off that often. Late nights and the long drive home discourage me from going very often. Margaret lives close into town. It is easier for her less than ten minutes from downtown. She does motivate me to come out on occasion, such as we are doing tonight. It will be fun and special and the boys will love it.

Last time we went to the symphony, Trevor had a smile ear to ear stuck on his face as he absorbed the sounds. It looked like the music plucked his soul. Riley looked at it more like his father the engineer. The impressive timing of getting 30 to 50 people all playing different instruments in time with each other, like cogs in a giant well oiled machine. Each piece doing its part to perfection.

Now I just have to choose one of my party dresses to wear. I bought a great Ann Taylor skirt at the thrift store for $5. It is an incandescent blue and brown tones. I am going to have trouble finding a top to coordinate with it. But it was such a lovely skirt I couldn't leave it. Almost time to wake the boys. I was enjoying the quiet.

Saturday Morning

Thank goodness for work on Saturdays. I woke up this morning to tom getting ready for a weekend in Corvallis. He is golfing with friends then off to the late game. He will spend the night and probably golf again before coming home. It is raining, but that wont slow true golfers of the Northwest down. They would rarely get out if they waited for the weather to be nice.

Meanwhile my boys wake up and start the TV. I ask for them to wait until I leave the house. There is plenty to be done around the house. Riley's birthday presents are still piled on the dining room table. Riley hides under the covers in my bed, pretending to be asleep while I list off all the chores; from putting his new pants and shirts away, to unloading the dishes from the dishwasher, to getting out of my bed so I can make it before I leave.

Tom's friends come into the chaose. I tell them I needed just one hour of no TV then I am off to work and the boys will do what ever they want. Tom just rolls his eyes. He does tell the boys to do what I ask before he heads out the door. Riley is still hiding under the covers in my bed. He had snuck in there to play the x box. He was disappointed that I made him turn it off. Now he is going to hide until I leave and then turn it back on.

Nothing will get done. I will come home to the dishes still needing to be unloaded and the pile of presents still on the dining room table. The carpet needs to be vaccumed and the lawn needs to be mowed.

AAh, I have hope. I offer Trevor money for today,$20 to do chores. He agrees. I make a list; dishes laundry vaccuming, putting away new cloths, cleaning clothes off his floor. I have hope now that the disaster areas might be brought down to a dull roar before I get home.

Riley still hides from me. Waiting until I leave so he can turn on the TV again. I may have to steal the cords off his games, if things get really bad this week. He did like his presents yesterday though. Spoiled child. I love my boys, but they are so much more work these days. Their messes are bigger also.




Trevor has marching band practice. I will drop him on my way to work. I know nothing around the house will get done in my absense. At least Trevor has something constructive to do. I love escaping the teenagers for work. Dealing with adults who know their jobs and follow the rules of civility.

Impatience

After our ER scare on the tenth, Tom asked me to make an appointment to see the Doctor. He didn't want to wait until the end of December to talk options and see numbers. The doctor is only available on Thursdays. I don't want Riley to miss school. I get lucky the doctor has an available time slot at 4:30 pm the next Thursday. The day before Riley's 15th birthday. Tom will meet us there. I will pick Riley up from school. There should be just enough time to get the dornbeckers for blood draw and labs, before we meet with the Doctor. They like to do the blood draw about a half hour in advance. One hour is even better. The next week is Thanksgiving so we would have to put it off even further if we don't go this week.



I figure by picking Riley up directly from school I can buy some extra time and not worry about the commute. I even anticipate Tom calling and requesting I bring his computer and grab it before I leave the house. It is my day off so I run lots of errands in the morning. I get a spiral ham which Riley wants for his birthday. He also said and wrote on his birthday list that he needed pants. I swing by the thrift store first to find the deals. They are having a half off books sale. The books are already under two dollars. I find a whole lot of classics like Animal Farm by George Orwell and Centennial by James Mitchener, Call of the Wild by Jack London (we already have a copy, but it is a great book), The Jungle book by Rudyard Kipling, Charles Dickens' Oliver Twist. I buy about 15 books, each one is less than a dollar . All are great reads, books I liked or always intended to read myself. I find a couple silk Hawaiian shirts for $4 each.



After that haul, I feel I can fill in with the more expensive gifts without breaking the bank. I head to Fred Meyer to buy food and more pants with real tags on them. I get home in time to unload the car and put everything away, then head to the high school where I wait for the bell to release the students.



A police car passes me twice, checking to see if I am safe to be parked out front of the school. It makes me feel good about the safety of the school. I wonder if he ran my plates. I wait. The buses come and load up. They leave. I begin to wonder if Riley forgot and got on the bus. I start to pull out after circling the parking lot once to make sure I didn't miss him. I spot him right before I am to turn onto the road and follow the buses home.



He had forgotten and got on the bus, but remembered before the buses took off. What it did do was eat up some of my spare time. He then asks if we can swing by the house for his computer. He has an assignment due he wants to work on. Not knowing quite what to expect at the appointment I agree to swing back by the house. Eating up more of my spare time.



I have not had a late appointment before with the doctor. I don't know if he will be on time or have an emergency that might delay him. Having the computer will be a good idea all around. When we get to the house Riley wants to use the bathroom, a little more delay. The drive takes a good 25 minutes at least. Riley doesn't like using the bathrooms at school, so I know he really needs to now. Its a good thing I planned that extra half hour into our commute.

By the time Riley gets back in the car, Trevor is coming up the driveway from the bus stop. The boys normally ride the same bus. He sees us and smiles, laughing that he beat us home before we even left for the hospital.

Now there can be no delays. Traffic is good on the freeway and we arrive at the hospital at 3:45. Time enough to make our 4:00pm blood draw, but not early as I had hoped. Tom texts us. He is also at the hospital. He meets us at the lab. Riley goes in to the lab and comes out quickly. The nurses are good and efficient in the lab.

There had been a line at Starbucks in the lobby when we arrived. I told Riley we could get something after the blood draw. I wanted to make sure we had time before waiting in line. Tom heads upstairs to check in with the clinic. Riley and I head down to the lobby for our treat. The line is short. Only two people in front of us. It still takes 10 minutes though. Starbucks is an experience place. I explain to Riley it is a little like going to the symphony. You can't speed up the process, that would take away from the whole experience. It is a leisurely treat. He makes the comment that it shouldn't be leisurely if you are after caffeine.

He orders a vanilla mocha decaf. I order a vanilla streamer. We take our drinks upstairs where Tom is waiting. The TV is off in the waiting room. Tom comments on the fact. I point out that at this time of day they probably don't want you lingering watching a movie to the end. They want you to head home.

Riley's name is called and we go through the security doors to the check in room where he is weighed, 125 pounds still. His height is measured, five feet eight inches. He is officially barely taller than me. Blood pressure is good. We toss our cups in the garbage and head to the room where the doctor will examine Riley. He comes in shortly with a new doctor.

He asks if we will tell our story to this new doctor as he will be following our case for a while. I ask if this new doctor is going to specialize in this area. He says he is considering it. We give a synopsis of the last year, how Riley spotted the rash on his legs, then the bruise on his hip that he couldn't tell where it came from, and the sore in Riley's mouth. How we took him to the clinic at home and the doctor at the clinic recognized the symptoms of bone marrow failure almost immediately from the peticia. How we were told to go to Dornbechers the next day. More blood draws and the aspiration of bone marrow confirming diagnosis. How Trevor was not a match. Riley started receiving platelet transfusions. How Riley got sick the next week with a fever which landed us back in the ER and the opportunity to begin treatment immediately. Once treatment started there was no going back even though just a few days into treatment multiple donor matches were found. Now here we are almost nine months later, still in a wait and see mode.

Tom wants to start weaning Riley off the meds. He just wants to get Riley well. The doctor says not yet. Studies show too soon and the chances of relapse are higher. He wants Riley to go a year on the immune suppressants. He says February 17, the exact anniversary date of the beginning of Riley's treatment. The day just happens to be a Thursday this year.

Finally the labs come back. Platelets are 123,000. The doctor thinks it is in response to Riley's virus last week. The body responded appropriately. I am gleeful. Tom has to swallow his words again. The numbers are good enough to put his argument off again and continue with the current treatment.

Hemoglobin is 10.6. Everything is higher than before he got sick. whites have come down from 5.9, but that number indicated that they were fighting some infection that has now passed. They did what they should be doing. It is still improved at 3.9. The numbers still aren't great. My hemoglobin was 13.4 when I gave blood. My platelets were 450,000. When I get sick my white cells go past 10. But we are crawling out of the gutter.

They cancel our December appointment and tell us February 17 will be our next visit unless we absolutely cannot wait again, or something comes up. I ask since Riley is turning 15 if he can get his permit and practice driving. The doctor says Riley has a few platelets to spare, but asks if our car has airbags. Yes, all our cars have airbags. He also asks if Riley has had his flu shot. I was going to ask about that. I didn't know with the immune suppressants if he should have the shot. Yes, we will do that while we are there.

The doctor does his regular exam. Both doctors listen to Riley's heart. They check his liver by pressing on his abdomen, causing Riley to giggle uncontrollably. Riley is terribly ticklish when it comes to the abdomen and liver areas.

The doctors leave and the nurse arrives with the flu shot. the needle is about an inch long and has to be administered into a muscle. Riley chooses his left arm as the nurse says he will be sore afterwards in the area where she gives the shot. What a change a year has wrought. Riley doesn't even flinch. he even jokes about the shot and how he ought to administer one to his parents. I have yet to get my flu shot. The year I got a flu shot I came down with a horrible case of the flu. I figure it must not have matched that strain. I haven't had a flu shot since before the boys were born. I guess I should probably get one this year. I wouldn't want to bring anything serious into the house. Riley is still compromised or we wouldn't have had to go to the ER last week, as a precaution.

I ask Tom if he wants to have Riley ride home with him, but he says he wants to smoke. Riley and I both complain that the cars all smell of smoke. He needs to stop smoking in the other cars, he is making them all stink. Riley and I head out. I have to back the car out of our parking spot so Riley can get in, as the car next to us is so close Riley can't get in on his side. The rain is coming down and it is dark. It feels late but it is only just after 5:00 pm, peak rush hour traffic. I like the freeway because it is well lit. The cross town roads don't have a lot of street lights. I am always afraid I will not see someone in the dark, bikers or walkers.

The traffic on the freeway is heavy. We finally make it home. As I tell my boys, we are moving faster than the pioneers on the Oregon Trail if the traffic is moving above 13 miles an hour. We were going 25 or 30 at some points, but it was all forward progression. With the rain coming down and the dark night, I don't mind the slow traffic. I always like to drive a little more cautiously when Riley is with me. We are in the middle lane. We pass Tom's car several times on the freeway. He was in the supposedly fast lane then moved over to the slow lane. Riley calls him on his cell to let him know we see him. He picks up but then says he can't talk as he is driving, good man. Me, I just sit in my lane moving forward.

Once home though, I have to fix everyone dinner, then I throw on my pajamas and climb into bed. Visiting the doctor is always stressful and exhausting just keeping up appearances. Tom can sit there and dwell and mope and want all this to be done. But as long as there is progress and forward progression I want to stay the course. Riley does not want to do BMT. He has seen and heard enough to know the discomforts. Tom is not going to be able to get him to do the BMT unless he can come up with some good arguments. I am thrilled with the new numbers. If we reach 150,000 platelets, I will be ecstatic. The next phase will be weaning off the drugs. Not relying on the immune suppressants. We need to know Riley's marrow can sustain itself without assistance.

February 17, 2011 will be our next bench mark. Patience and good humor will be our mantra. I gave Trevor's teachers cards with gifts in them for the Thanksgiving break. I think it helps to keep a positive outlook. I like to assist those poor teachers when ever I can. Trevor is giving us all his own challenges in a different way. I think everyone is looking forward to this long break.

Trevor even had one teacher write me a note saying he had no homework over the break. He knew I would put him to work without it. I thought that was very pro active. We are still working on improving his grades. I am so tempted to keep him in middle school one more year. High school will be a disaster.

Meanwhile Riley is flourishing in his classes. I want to send him to private college, some place warm and nurturing like my own Whitman in Walla Walla. Trevor wants to play football so Whitman wont work. Whitman doesn't have a football team.

Trevor's coach said when he is out on the field the opponents double team him. I could tell. Every year he gets better and better. If only that dedication would spill over into his academics.

The Vet

We were late getting Peach to the Vet. I asked if Peach might try just an antibiotic treatment rather than surgery. The admissions nurse said she would check with the Vet. I also told them no unnecessary treatments. We will not be doing the teeth cleaning or the pre workup on the blood, just the draining of the leg, that is all. The cat either survives the surgery or he doesn't. Running a bunch of unnecessary tests wont change the outcome.



We are told to call at noon. Trevor calls, the vet is delayed, no surgery yet. They call back. The cat has been looked at again. They have opted for just an antibiotic treatment, no surgery.



I can't help being a little cynical. I do like this clinic. But sometimes I think that they really do go overboard. Tom compares them to dentists. Dentists want the teeth cleaning straightening and whitening even though the straightening and whitening it isn't necessary. The vet wanted to do the same thing to a cat.



Peach is nine years old. He is getting up there in cat years. His teeth weren't bothering him. I bought a cat food that is supposed to help with the cleaning. It didn't cost me an extra$200 as the cleaning under anesthesia would have. The potential extractions were going to cost anywhere from $25 to $125 per tooth and they wouldn't know until they got into Peach's mouth how many or how much. It sounded like a money pit to me.







Peach seems to be responding to the antibiotics. The vet did not charge us for the day stay. He also wasn't happy to hear we were buying our flea meds from Wilco Farm and Feed store. It is more convenient than driving out to the vet clinic. I also don't feel the need to make the required physical inspection of our pets every two years just to receive the flea meds.



Yes, our pets are family members, but I am not going to break the bank over unnecessary annual physicals. I will take them when they are sick, not before. It is a delicate balance where to draw the line.



We had a dog, Bubu. He was a Rottweiler, well loved and respected. We bought a king size bed, because our old double bed was too small with the dog sleeping with us in the middle. I would have to shove to keep my space in the bed.



Bubu blew out his ACL, one of his knees just gave while he was running in the yard. The Vet wanted to ship him to the veterinary college in Pullman Washington for a mere $25,000 for a complete knee rebuild. I asked if we could just chop the leg off. He compromised and charged us $2500 for a local repair. Two years later, Bubu grew a tumor in another leg. It metastasized quickly. He spent three months on pain killers and treatments before we said goodbye to him. He was our most expensive pet medically and he still died.



I am willing to spend the money, but I have learned to be reasonable. Vets are like any other business. They want you to spend as much as you are willing with them. Give them your limits. Don't let emotion rule and overtake your pocket book. I just saved my cat and $500 at least.

How much do you spend on a cat

House pets are special. They share your home and in our case the master bed. They are abused and adored by the children. They tolerate much. They bring me gifts of dead and living animals seasonally as available to show their love and devotion.

I feed them and pet them to show my own appreciation. I take them to the vets when they are sick. Most of the vet visits run around $200, the visit plus what ever medicines we are sent home to administer. I prefer liquid syringes as getting a pill down a cat is not easy. They fight and claw.

This last visit to the vet was due to Peach having an injured paw. It wasn't broken, but he wouldn't put any weight on it. He was without energy and lethargic. He nibbled his food. I gave him a treat of canned food to stimulate his appetite. He ate a little but not much. Normally he would have consumed half the can.

Trevor helped me capture the cat and carry the case to the vet. Not that the cat put up much resistance, he was waiting for us at the door next to his carrier. The cat's temperature was 104 degrees. The vet said that was high. I don't know what is normal for a cat, but that seems high to me. Peach was not dehydrated, but there was something definitely wrong with the leg. The vet thinks an abscess caused by another cat biting him in a fight.

The neighborhood is in a territory battle right now. There must be eight or ten cats trying to establish their boundaries. Every home has a cat. The occasional cat fight can be heard out the window at night. It isn't so bad with the rainy weather. I used to watch a couple of cats that liked to walk the top of our fence. Peach would walk the top of our fence. It was definitely a strained relationship around the cat neighborhood.

It seems that Peach did not come out of one of his altercations unscathed. The vet says he needs surgery to drain the abscess in his leg. She tosses in a teeth cleaning and extractions as needed. The estimate is for $576.00.

The day Tom noticed the limp and said "take the cat in to the vet", I had warned him it would cost us. I said "Any visit will be at least $120". It is even worse than that. With Trevor with me trying to choke back tears over the sick cat, I agree to the surgery. I tell the vet I have a ceiling of $1000. I will not pay more than that regardless of what they find wrong. It still seems extreme for a cat. But he is a member of the family. He is a great mouser and has often defended his home from infiltrators and unwanted guests.

This is also his first trip to the vet since infancy. He has been extremely healthy up until now.
Tom looks at the estimate when he gets home. He says no teeth cleanings or extractions. Do just the minimum. He makes the comment that he could accidentally lose the cat on the way to surgery, or there is that "other option", Peach is a family member. Trevor would be devastated if we didn't at least do the minimum effort.

So Peach is going to get his chance. He will be using up one of his proverbial nine lives. The doctor is going to open up his leg and drain what ever puss or infection is bothering the cat. It will be an out patient experience. We are to drop him off at 8:30 am and pick him up at 5:30 pm. Then we will probably have to administer syringes of antibiotics over the next week and keep him from being over active while he recovers. Cats and dogs though are pretty good at knowing their limitations as long as they are not encouraged to go play. Peach is 9 years old. He is a smart cat. He didn't run off and hide. He wants us to make him better.

Pets can be so expensive at times. We picked him out at PAWS, which is like the humane society. He was a kitten we brought home to entertain the kitten, Tiger, we had brought home a few days earlier. Tiger wanted to play all night and wouldn't let anyone sleep. We hoped that by bringing home a playmate the first cat would not wake us up all night. They fought. I was afraid one would kill the other, but in the morning of the first night we found that they had become the best of friends.

Peach turned into our adventurous hunter and Tiger was our timid afraid to go outside cat. Tiger had flea allergies. Forget to give him his flea meds and he gets huge scabs all over his body. He has had several vet visits for his rashes. He pulls his hair out to get to the fleas.

Peach could care less about fleas. The vet found several fleas on Peach. We gave him an updated dose of flea meds when we got home. Now we are about to gather him up again and deliver him to his surgery. We use an old decrepit green carrier with bent clasps. It has held many of our cats over the years. I think it is original to my first cat Rascal.

Rascal only loved me. She knocked my sister's hamster cage to the floor killing her pet. She was half Siamese with a voice you could hear for miles. Peach really never howls. Tiger wakes the dead. I think that is why I love my cats, they have personalities. They are devoted to their good owners. It is something of a test. A cat will abandon a bad family. He will go off and find a new home if you make him mad enough. They have an independent streak.

Peach came to me with his limping paw. How could I let him down, especially with Trevor there to judge me. A pet is a member of the family. Pets are the ones that teach our children their first experiences about life and death and kindness. So I am off to the vet again and a really expensive vet bill.

An evening at the ER

Riley has been fighting a bug. Yesterday he had stuffy ears and a slight soar throat. He spiked a fever in the evening of 99.1. Tom gave me a look and told me to call the on call number and find out how to treat the fever. We are not supposed to mask fevers with ibuprofen in case it masks a more serious problem. With a compromised immune system a minor illness can escalate to something serious quickly.

The nurse said to only give ibuprofen judiciously. Once a day. Benodril is what I like for ear aches and stuffy noses as I feel it keeps those sinuses open and draining. Benodril is a good choice according to the doctor as it doesn't mask the fever. It will also help Riley sleep.

He awakes with no fever. I encourage him to attend school despite the stuffy ears. He has missed enough school and who knows how much he will miss in the future. He begrudgingly agrees to go after I point out that he is up against a four day weekend. He can relax the rest of the week.

I go off to visit a friend and on the way back home later in the day, stop in at work for a couple of hours. The new employee has not worked out so we are back to our old schedules, but trying to accommodate already made plans, when we thought we had the time off.

Once home I check on Riley. He says his throat is still mildly soar and his ears are still plugged. During the coarse of the evening his temperature rises. Tom make us take it regularly. It reaches 100.4. In the old days back in the spring that was a trigger point for a visit to the ER. Riley is not as compromised now, but it warrants another call to the on call Doctor to find out what we are supposed to do.

Do we treat the fever or what? Now the trigger for the drive to the ER is 101. We hit that mark while talking on the phone to the Doctor. Better to error on the side of caution. It has been over a month since our last blood tests. Who knows where Riley's numbers are. With the drugs he takes his immune system is compromised. We are told to go ahead and bring him into the ER. They will be expecting him.

Riley and I get our stuff together. I grab a blanket for him for the car ride. We both grab books to read. Tom gets a packet of sample meds together for the visit. We are supposed to bring his meds just in case whenever we go visiting the hospital. It helps keep everyone on the same page so to speak. I send Tom back into the house for a yogurt. I will bring yogurt just in case this turns into an all nighter. Riley wont have a problem taking his pills in the morning if we have the yogurt. He had to take his pills with apple sauce before, when they didn't have yogurt in the ER.

I did forget the computer, but I had a good book. Riley and I chat as we drive. He really doesn't act sick. I can tell he isn't feeling that horrible. We just can't take the chance, not without knowing his numbers. The ANC below 500 will mean he will stay in the hospital. An ANC at where it was in September means he gets to come home and we can treat the illness with ibuprofen. That is what the doctor told me on the phone.

The fog is thick. I have to use the white line on the side of the road to guide my car to the freeway. It is only eight at night so traffic is still fairly heavy leaving town. Going into town isn't bad though. We know the route well and make good time.

I skip valet and just park nearby. Riley and I head into the ER and check in. The clerk tells us to take a seat. I mention Riley is immune compromised and usually we go to the children's room. There is a TV and games in the children's waiting room. A nurse comes out and hands Riley a mask and uses her card to open the security door to the playroom. Riley says he could have sat out in the lobby, but I point out the TV. It is the Disney channel showing one of those obnoxious shows the boys like and I can't stand. Riley sits without anymore complaint, his eyes on the TV screen.

Time passes and they call his name. He gets a room and they check his vitals. He is running a temperature of 99. They give him the topical lydicane to kill the pain for the needle injections. The nurse says she will do the shot in his arm. Riley is happy not to have them do it in his hand. He had been stressing that it would be another painful experience. This time it all goes smoothly. We just have to wait now for our results to get back.

We can hear an infant screaming in another room. I turn on the TV to drown out the sound. Indian Jones is on, a good distraction for Riley. A volunteer stops by to say hello and see if we need anything. I ask if she has games or chess. She says she is on her way out but another volunteer will be stopping by, she will send him in our direction with a chess board.

He arrives a short while later. I ask Riley if he wants me to turn off the movie. Yes, Riley would rather play chess with this young man. Riley proceeds to beat him several times in short games. Quite pleased with the experience. Our results come back. Riley's numbers are good enough to go home. They are better than a month ago for red and white. Platelets are pretty much the same, not much improvement, which is disappointing, but not unexpected. We know the odds. We get to treat the fever with ibuprofen and get to sleep in our own beds tonight.

Riley falls asleep in the seat beside me on the drive home. The fog is still thick. Car lights float in a thick white halo. I drive cautiously. We are home just before midnight. Everyone is already asleep having heard that there was nothing to worry about this particular evening. Riley has all weekend, four days, to rest up and be ready for school. Get over this hump in the road to recovery. We got a peak at the numbers which pleased Tom. He was having a hard time not knowing for so long. Now I am winding down and going to bed myself.

laundry- updates

Wednesday, today is the day Sears makes their visit. I am guessing the day may be a thousand dollar day. I am having the gas stove looked at as two of the burners wont start on their own. The oven light is out also. the Laundry machine is also getting an overhaul.

I thought since I was having the laundry looked at that I could also have the stove at the same time, but they are two different technicians with two different bills. The stove guy comes first. He doesn't have the parts. They will be sent and he will return, but I wont have to pay for the return call.

While he is here he asks if there is anything else he can fix for me. He mentions the filter on the refrigerator. "Yes", that definitely needs replacing. We have lived here since December 2006 without replacing the filter. It is time. I know you are supposed to change it out every year. Its a little past time. The door shelves are broken on the fridge also. I ask for new ones. By the end of the kitchen visit the bill is a little over $400. I would rather fix these things given the opportunity. They would need to be fixed if we ever moved anyway. At least now I can enjoy the use. There is a discount for a second appliance health check. Everything will be sent to me and the repair man will come back in two weeks free of charge to install the new light on the oven, the switch on the stove, the filter and drawers on the refrigerator, worth every penny.


The Laundry repair man comes a little while after the kitchen repairman leaves. The pump is blown. Unusual for the age of the washer, little does he realize the use that washer receives. It is kind of like the time I bought the planer for Tom and he proceeded to cut down the woods around our house and plane nearly 2000 board feet of maple. Sears was out several times repairing that planer. It just wasn't up to that kind of volume of use. It was meant for the hobby use. We had insurance on that planer, worth every penny. We were lucky with the washer, there was a pump in the repair truck.

Tom mentioned last night it might be time for one of his exceptions to the no insurance rule. He always said if you bought insurance for every item, the cost of all that insurance alone would cover replacement of one item every year if it broke. You could just buy a new one. So he didn't advocate insurance. In this particular instance though, our washer gets industrial use. It needs insurance.

I bought a five year package from the repair man, repairs included $500. Thats $100 a year to guarantee it doesn't break down again, less than 50 cents a day. The washer is two years old. In seven years we can consider replacement. As a front loader it should have held up better. Now it will, because it has insurance. The laundry mat cost me $4 a load plus inconvenience. I do a load every day if not two to three. Insurance for this one is worth every penny.

I took advantage of the second machine maintenance discount while the repair man was here. I had him clean out the drier. He must have collected two pounds in change out of the drier guts. That cleaning was definitely worth every penny. I knew there was stuff in it where there shouldn't be, because I had had it jamb up before. I just tipped it upside down and shook it when that happened. That fixed the problem, removed the rock or change blocking the belts. Having it professionally cleaned was wonderful. Now it will be happy for a while.

I was right. The end result was about a Thousand dollar day. But my appliances will all have new life breathed into them. The only thing they wouldn't fix was the instant hot water on the sink. I will just have to go buy a new one. Tom said he would install it, having heard how much we just spent on repair men. But all the repairs had to be done sooner or later. I would rather have the benefit of them now.

Yeah, my laundry is fixed. I was told to run a cup and a half of white vinegar through an empty load first, due to the bad water sitting in it for a week. It smelled like sewer upstairs when the washer door was opened. the vinegar will also help rinse out old soap in the lines. He recommended doing that once a month to keep the lines clear. I am going to start a load right now then I am off to buy a new instant hot water. I had to turn off the cold water under the sink due to the dripping of the instant hot. Now all I need are new floors for the torn vinyl in front of the fridge. That was caused by melted ice cubes not picked up from using the ice maker. Well, maybe next year that will be on my wish list. Today I am just happy to get what I did get done. We are hard on a house.

Saturday Trevor's issues

Saturday was long. Feeling a little shaky on my feet after a night of partying. We didn't get to bed until three am. Then off to work the next day. My sister drops by with her kids. I had asked her to stop by at some time so I could get her a pair of shoes as a gift. I had already bought my niece something. My niece had picked out UGGS. I loved seeing Tory, but I was not feeling one hundred percent.

My niece is a size 6 foot. It is at the very small end of what we carry. The size 6's require me to bend over and look at the bottom of the shelves. I really didn't want to bend over at all. I muddled through, but we didn't really have anything she liked in her size. Most of our clients are a bit older then middle school. Tory found a pair of shoes she liked so I placed the order. She has the same size foot I do, and similar tastes. I am just more browns and she likes black. We had to order the color in as we didn't have it in her size.The shoe should come in a couple of weeks. It will be an excuse to see each other again.

I had to laugh. I ended up having at least three people come into the store that day with size 6 or 7 feet. By the end of the day with all the stooping and squatting to pull shoes from the bottom of shelves, my hang over had worked its way through my body. I drank lots of water all day. I felt a little raw, like my blood sugar was off, but I didn't feel that nausea that I had started the day with. I didn't feel like I was going to burp up something I didn't want to taste.

Trevor had a game. There was just time for me to get to the field to catch the end of it, after work. The score was 14 to 46. The boys were not in a happy place. As soon as I arrived Tom went home to catch some football games on TV. He should have stayed. Trevor came off the field despondent by the score and the fact no one from the family was watching him play. His brother never went to his games. His father hadn't stayed to the end. He knew I had only caught the tail end because of work.

I did tell him that his father had watched most of the game and had just left. Even with the loss they still made the playoffs. Next week I can get off early to catch the game. Its a 5:30 pm kick off . We will all go and be there.

Trevor is a juggling match. He is not doing well in school. He drives me crazy by not doing his homework. he is easily distracted and loves putting the homework off. He has a teacher that gives 20% for late work, an automatic F. Sometimes his work is done and makes the round trip. He doesn't hand it in and it comes back home in the back pack again, automatic F.

He had a science project due, a big one. He got an extension on it, but told us it was due the next week, the extension date. I looked at the assignment requirements and realized it was at least a 5 hour project. Trevor wanted to wait until the night before it was due to start working on it, Monday night. That night he had a scheduled football practice. I explained there were not enough hours available if he waited until that day to work on it. I told him I would drive him to school if he would get it done one day earlier, so he could have all Sunday to work on it.

I finally took the assignment instructions to Tom and said "Look at this, Trevor wants to wait until the last minute to get started. This is a five hour project. I am handing this over to you to deal with." It felt so good to abdicate responsibility. I was so tired of arguing with the boy. Tom got involved and it did take all day, at least five hours and research on the computer and a model had to be built.

Trevor did not get it done by Monday, but a large chunk of it was finished. Tom told me it would be done by the due date Tuesday. He had battled through Sunday with Trevor, and was going to get Trevor to finish it by the Tuesday deadline. He did ask that I drive Trevor to school and help deliver the project so it would arrive at its destination in one piece and complete.

Sunday had been Halloween. Trevor did not get to answer the door or dress in costume or participate because he was working on the project. He wept, he cried. I loved Tom's strong arm technique, even though Riley and I took refuge in my bedroom with books during the day, so we could be out of range of the arguing. I knew Tom would win through, though. Trevor gets his stubborn streak from somewhere.

Monday, Tom took Trevor to football practice, but as soon as he was done, it was back to the project. Once home from my work, I stayed upstairs, so did Riley. Trevor told me later, Tom did help when Trevor got frustrated. Neither quite realized how long this project was going to take, but I did. I just had to read the assignment to figure out it was a long project.

Tom has memories of doing crash studies and passing with flying colors. Trevor is not like that at all. Trevor needs to segment his projects, have separate due dates, and then meet those due dates. He notoriously waits for the dates to pass and then realizes things were due, when everyone else starts handing stuff in. There is no forgiveness anymore. A D and two Fs hang in the balance.

Trevor has such a good heart and tries to do the right thing with the social aspect of his life. If only he could find a balance with the educational aspect. He was supposed to Trick or Treat for Unicef. He helped organize the campaign at school and made up the boxes and handed them out. I caught him emptying my change jar into his empty box Monday morning. I told him "No". He looked stricken, but I said he hadn't asked, he hadn't finished his project. He was not in my good graces.

Football practice was a muddy mess Monday night. Tuesday morning, Trevor's shoes were still soaked and muddy. These were his new 12 4Es that I had just given him. He had to wear the old too tight shoes to school. I drove him and the project as I had promised Tom I would. I walked Trevor into school, though he said I didn't need to. I told him I wanted to witness the delivery and I didn't want anyone messing with him or the delicate model.

The science Teacher was in the room. After Trevor handed in the work I said "Isn't there anything else you need to say, Trevor?" Trevor, with his back to the teacher, said "I am sorry it's late". I said "Eye contact Trevor". He turned and facing his teacher, looking him in the eyes, said it again. The teacher accepted Trevor's apology, noting that Trevor should try not to be late in the future. I was grateful for the extension. Not only that, but I had found an e-mail from this teacher in my delete file letting me know about the extension and Trevor's failure to meet the dead lines. "Someone" had been trying to cover up the incident. I asked that Trevor spend his academic x block this week in the science room making up missing work. Usually Trevor goes to math, but we can get the math at home. I can't do the science make ups at home.

As we leave I tell Trevor if this is what I need to do, hand escort him, when he is delivering home work, I will do it. I said since I am no longer able to beat him, I can publicly embarrass him. I said I will make a scene at school in front of everyone if that is what it takes to get him to get his homework in on time. As I left the school I called out over the heads of all the other students, making eye contact with Trevor, I said "Remember, Trevor".

When he got home on Tuesday he said it really wasn't necessary for me to escort him. He had been teased about it. I said I would be doing the escorting until he got his grades up if that is what it took. He worked hard on his math packet I had printed off. He did not finish it though.

So he would know I still love him despite the harsh words, I brought home a new pair of shoes for him from work. this time its a 12.5 4e, so there is a little growing room. They are also black so he can wear them for the required black shoes for band. I do love the size 13 dress shoes he has been wearing though, that belonged to my father at one time. He put on the new shoes Wednesday morning and was really happy with them.

He had worked hard on replacing his missing math assignments Tuesday night. He still has more work to do. The math teacher e mailed me to let me know she is a day behind schedule. Maybe Trevor can get one page in on time. I have printed off the next week, also in preparation. Trevor hasn't learned the stuff yet so he doesn't know how to do it, and wants to wait for the instructions.

The key is handing it in on the proper due date, when we don't know the dates of instruction or the date the assignment will be due in advance. Automatic F for late work. Say he does it but just forgets to hand it in, automatic F. Its a vicious circle. I don't know whether to strangle Trevor or try discussing things with the teacher. This is her policy and she has used it for years, no compromises. I don't blame her. Its just that the system stinks for Trevor.
It would have been fine if she had been teaching Riley.

This is our second year with this teacher. Last year at the end of all those F, he was waived on with a D. What am I to believe? When Trevor reaches high school, the lowest math class does not count toward graduation. It will be an elective. I can only hope that its the tests that count and not the handing in of homework.

Trevor may have to wear damp shoes to practice tonight, as I am not sure the wet ones will be dry in time. These new black shoes are not to be destroyed on the field. We pulled out the insole and opened up the tongue all the way and put a fan on the other shoes, in hopes of speeding the drying process. The cleats we ordered are meant for turf only and are incredibly slick on grass. The bottoms get compacted with mud when playing in grass. the coach told Trevor just to wear his regular athletic shoes for practice and save the cleats for the games. I washed the mud off the cleats so they look good again, and sparkle for the games.

Tom said Trevor played well Saturday night. He probably would have stuck around if the score hadn't been such a blow out. I hope the play off game is close either way. The boys keep their heads in the game if the score is close.

No one said raising kids was easy. As a matter of fact they said it was hard. It does keep life interesting. The emotional highs and lows are invigorating. I am enjoying making Tom step up. The boys being teen agers now respond to their father better than they do me. I like coming home late, after Tom is already home dealing with homework. Tom always said he would step up when the boys were teens, and here we are with teens and Tom stepping up. I am not sure Tom is getting as much joy out of it all as I am. I did like the children when they were cute and little. The terrible twos were not so challenging to me as the teen years are. It may be because college is now looming close. How will Trevor do in high school?

Great Gatsby

What fun. We were invited to a party in honor of my sister in law. My brother, her husband, was hosting a costume party down town. A party limo was to pick us up at the hotel and drive us for cocktails to her parents then back down town for dinner. The theme of the Party was The Great Gatsby, 1920's



I had found a dress that was very flapper in style on sale a few months ago. I loved it when I found it and bought it for no particular reason other than it fit. It is so fun when you already have the perfect dress, no stress. I have a black velvet dress coat that belonged to my great grandmother, potentially, with a white sable hood. It is gorgeous. It does need to be relined. The silk lining is frayed and torn and thread bear. It almost tears if you breath on it. The velvet is in beautiful condition. It looks perfect if you don't notice the lining. I keep it in plastic except about twice a year when I bring it out to play princess at costume parties or during the holidays for extremely special events. I found in my closet a matching velvet hat with a huge beautiful silver broach, all authentic. Nothing like being a member of a family that doesn't throw anything out. I have it all.



I had a few more hats at one time. A very dear friend of mine is a true collector of vintage items. I gave her the others as gifts. I knew she would care for them better than I would. Probably not wear them to get thrashed at costume parties. She keeps them displayed or in vintage boxes, to be opened and admired upon occasion, always pristine. I kept the ones I knew I would wear and use, pardon the thought of using the real vintage stuff.



I destroyed a flapper dress once wearing it to a party. The threads on the dress were so fragile, and the beads so heavy, The dress started to disintegrate during the evening. I left little black beads where ever I went. I should never have worn it. I probably destroyed a museum piece. But it went with love. So I knew better than to keep anything too fragile, only a few things that I knew I might like to wear. The hat with the giant broach was perfect and went with the velvet coat perfectly. Nylons and the suedo flapper dress that would not disintegrate while I wore it and I was set.




Tom got into the act with a vintage hat. He put on a black shirt with a white tie and black jacket. looking like he just stepped out of a speak easy. We were to have nick names. Mine was Sweetie and he was Truman after Truman Capone, the writer.







I had to work the day of the party, so I didn't change until late in the day. It is hard to help people try on shoes in a short dress and nylons. I didn't need to flash my customers. It was also hard for them to take me seriously when dressed in costume. I am trying to convince a woman that she has to give up fashion shoes for lace up athletic wear to get rid of the foot pain, while wearing a giant vintage hat and flashing a lot of inappropriate thigh exposure. I didn't stick around long once in costume.







The mall was having its own costume ball that day, so I didn't look out of place. I did receive many admiring comments. One gentleman said I looked very authentic. I should, it was all real.







I met Tom at his work which is just down the road from mine. We left my car in his lot, which is theoretically a guarded area. It is tucked away from the main road, so safer than leaving mine parked overnight at the mall. I had gotten permission though to leave it if I needed. The mall security had me take a picture of the car and the license so they would know that the car was OK to leave overnight for this one time exception.







Tom had four outfits with him. He had been undecided so he had brought all his options with him. I had made reservations at the hotel for overnight. Neither Tom nor I like to drink and drive. A hotel room is so much cheaper and safer in the long run. He wanted the room to try out his costumes. I had left ties and hats out for him to choose, he had brought his favorite from the selection. He said only one hat fit so there wasn't much choice involved. The hats were all hand me downs from family over the years. Costume accessories for my boys.







We pull up to the hotel. The Hotel is new and old at the same time. It is an old department store that has been converted to multi purpose. It used to be the old Fredrick and Nelson, then it was Meyer and Frank. Now downstairs is Macy's. The hotel doesn't start until the eighth floor. It is four stories. A modern art deco restaurant and bar is on the top floor, decorated as if you are in a 1950 airport. Wrong vintage for our evening . We are to meet everyone on the eighth floor at the bar in the center. All the interior hotel rooms look down on the bar area. The floor are a dark wood, the place is set up with private sitting areas through out. We gather in one of those areas.







I didn't want to be late. I have been peaking out our hotel room window to see if I can recognize anyone. Our room is in the corner, one story up from the bar. I have received a discount rate of $129. When I made the reservations and told the concierge we need the room so we didn't drink and drive, he said there is a local "Oregonian" rate. I was pleased. The room is delightful. It has a small sink by the closet in the room. The bed is King size, with plenty of room all the way around it. There is a desk tucked into an alcove, also with a view of the atrium area below. The bathroom is spacious and completely marble, including the glassed in double sized shower, with a rain bath shower head. I love it.



I don't know how many are coming to the party. I see no one looking like they are from the 1920's, as I peak out our window from above, overlooking the whole area. I encourage Tom to hurry and dress so we can get to the bar and meet everyone. We end up being the first to arrive.



We order Pino Noir. Its $15 a glass. I get two bottles from Fred Meyer's for that kind of money. Well, we are here to party, but I realize why Tom and I don't have a social life or go out very often. We are just too damn expensive. Hotel rooms on top of cocktails and lovely dinners. A night out for us is $500 easy. That is how much we spent on our anniversary in August. I guess we just have to realize we can only afford to go out once a quarter rather than the recommended quality time of once a week that all the articles say is healthy for a marriage. But then they don't consider the hotel rooms and heavy drinking involved when they write those articles.



I don't drink normally. I have always been a social drinker. I used to have the occasional glass of wine with Tom after work, but it is rare I do that anymore. I can always tell the next day and the day after that, if I have cocktails.



At the bar, Tom takes a call from his brother on the cell. They start talking betting. I can't tell if it is horses or football, but he looks so authentic gangster, even down to the conversation. A gambling man out with his babe, headed to the speak easy to do some illegal activities.

I see another woman wondering the bar dressed in a floor length gown and a boa around her neck. She has her hair up in an intricate knot and a black silk rose tucked into her hair with a black feather flowing over the top of her hair. She has to be with us. I wave her over. Her made up name is Rosie for the evening. I find out her children go to school with my nieces in Bend. She has a big camera and is the official photgrapher for the evening.



We are all wound up and excited. Another couple joins us. They are all in white. Lydia is beautiful in a cream lace gown. Her husband is in a matching white suit to co ordinate their attire. They look ready for a garden tea party. It is easy to know the people as they arrive. Everyone looks like they just stepped out of time, like that Christopher Reeves movie, where he goes back in time and falls in love. Lydia works at a horse farm and takes care of Polo ponies in Eastern Oregon.

Graham and Heidi arrive. Another round of cocktails are ordered for everyone. Heidi is in a golden slip dress overlaid with black lace. She has a black lace hat on her head. Graham has rented a vintage suit all in white. He says they had to put together different pieces from different suites of different eras, but it all looks good. He has a white vest on under his jacket. He looks like he is off the tennis courts when they used to be played on grass lawns. He is grinning from ear to ear. He had sent out an e mail to all of us that they would be incognito as Babes and Peaches. Heidi looked good enough to eat. She said she had ordered her dress off the Internet.



All the women had long strands of pearls draped around their necks. Tory wore a three quarter length black cocktail dress with a stole. She had a gold lame scarf around her neck and a big gold belt. She reminded me of Scarlet making her gown out of drapes to trick the guards into letting her see Rett in jail. She looked lovely, and ready to party.



One couple was late, so we were waiting on them. They were driving over from Bend. Once they arrived we headed downstairs where the party limo was waiting. The bus/limo was the size of those mini school buses. Inside were plush couches and built in ice buckets filled with champagne and beers. Wine glasses were hanging from racks below the ice buckets, all strategically located.
Big screens were at both ends of the bus for karaoke. Though we didn't quite get the music totally together.

The first karaoke singer was a male friend of Graham's. Tom said after this guy sang, it would be OK if I sang. For those who have not heard me sing, I got cut off at the club on my first karaoke experience. I was too painful to listen to for the audience. In grade school I was asked by the music teacher to mouth the words as I tended to throw off the chorus. Luckily the opportunity did not arise for me to take the mike, the trip wasn't that long. We all laughed and cheered the whole time.

We drove out to "Peaches" parents' home. They have a lovely big place. They were waiting for us at the door. They were also in appropriate attire. Bill wore a plaid vest and Tina wore a beaded gown that had belonged to her mother when her mother was young and slender and beautiful.

Bill served up a pitcher of Lemon drops into martini glasses. They were delectable. We also were served ord oeuvres that melted in your mouth. There were stuffed pastries wrapped around whole olives. There was bacon wrapped around water chestnuts, my personal favorite. There was melted brie on french toast. The lemon drop cocktails made a second round.

We were now up to five cocktails this evening, two at the bar, champagne in the bus, maybe two champagnes, and now the lemon drops. I could not hold my second delightful lemon drop steady enough not to spill a little over the side. A testament to how much I had consumed. I hated to waste any, it was really good.

After the the cocktail party, we got back in the bus for more champagne and the ride to dinner. Dinner was in one of the high sky scrapers of the city. There was an incredible view from the windows. Tom ordered a bottle of wine with dinner. We order and the food arrives. I am so full of liquid refreshment at this point, I am only slightly hungry.

Midway through my dinner, my sister realizes it is almost midnight. She told the sitter she would be home at 11:00pm. She leaps up from the table and excuses herself from the party. Tom tells me I should walk her to her car. Of course. I leave with her, intending to come right back.

Well, we get lost walking. We are talking and walking and circling the blocks. That walk probably saved me from a worse hang over than I knew I was already in for. It took us a half hour at least to find her car. Tom was texting me asking where we were. I walk with confidence and I was in no mood to be hastled so I felt completely comfortable with my situation, besides my sister and I were having an intense conversation about life. She had really parked only a block away, but we had come out of the tower and turned on the wrong street, who knows, we could have walked by the place and not even known, getting disoriented in the process. She finally did find her car and made it home safely.

I walked the one block back to the restaurant only to find the elevators were closed, as it was so late. I couldn't get back upstairs. Tom was in the lobby. He had come down for a smoke and was worried about me taking so long. He couldn't get back upstairs either. I called "Babes" on the cell and let him know we did not mean to boge out on the dinner, but that we were stuck downstairs.

The rest of the party joined us shortly. I had taken so long walking my sister the one block to her car, they had been able to finish dinner. I was sorry to have missed some of the party, but just as well I didn't drink any more.

We caught a taxi back to the hotel with "Peaches" parents. Tom suggested we go up to the bar on the top floor and check it out. We hadn't seen it yet. We all ride up the elevator. The bar is closing . We are the only ones in the place. It is decorated with frosted glass and oval chairs. I can still barely focus. We sit and tell Bill and Tina about our wedding toast. It is one of Tom's favorite stories. At our wedding, we did tequila shots with salt and lime. He orders the drinks so we can show Tina and Bill. We can't even keep the limes in our mouths while doing the toasts. The shots go down way too easily. I have never had tequila that smooth. I need to find out what it was because it was good tequila.

I have a souvenir martini glass from the party that Tina had brought for me. I pick it up from the table and accidentally drop it. It sends glass shards scattering. At that point we all decide it is time to go. Thank goodness we are already in our hotel. Tom and I get off on the tenth floor and I can only hope Tina and Bill made it safely to their destination.

Tom and I collapse on the king size bed. I don't know quite how long later, but I did have the need to get up and expunge some of the fluids from the nights alcoholic binge. Early in the wee hours I hear Tom doing the same thing.

I wake at nine in the morning knowing I need to be at work at 11:00am. I call work at ten, while still lying in bed, to let them know we might be a little late. I get up and shower, then nudge Tom, letting him know we need to get going. He is not pleased, but he can sleep at home just as well. He has to check out at noon anyway. He tells me at first I will be driving. To be honest I am not sure i am capable, as I stumble around our room picking things up and packing.

When we get down to the car, having called for valet and check out over the phone, he does take the keys to drive. I climb into the passenger seat and recline it as far back as it goes, curling up with my head tucked. Buying those last few minutes of time to recover before we get to my work. I am grateful that Tom is driving.

By the time we get my car from his work lot and I drive over to my work, I feel a little better. The aspirin I took before leaving the hotel has helped, enough that I can muddle through the day without vomiting on anyone, and still put on a fairly cheerful face. I knew there was a reason I wasn't drinking much anymore. I just got another reminder, but it sure was a fun party. Now I just have to pay the Piper, as they say.