So, I have spent my 33rd birthday (thanks for the wishes!) purging my moms pantry and fridge. My mom has hoarding tendencies, for SURE, and I think that at some point in the last 7 years, I’ve mentioned it here. Everyone has tried, and there’s a small cadre of people who can be relied on to both purge her stores and fill each other in on their finds. Last year, it was my cousin Alison and I and the big find was about 12 POUNDS of butter. Literally.

Today, my parents were working, and they asked me to go to the dump. ABSOLUTELY. I filled — literally FILLED — my mom’s Matrix with trash. One 40 gallon bag was their weekly trash, but the rest was food. Expired food. The Matrix has a split folding rear seat, and it folds in 2/3 and 1/3, and I put Ing’s carseat in the 1/3 slot and folded down the 2/3, and the entire back was filled, and even the front passenger seat. I’m not kidding. I should’ve taken a pic of the loaded Matrix. I did take pics of some of my finds — the retro labels made me wonder if the boxes might be worth something, honest to god. Anyway, I filled 3 40 gallon yard bags, and two 13 gallon kitchen bags, with stuff from the pantry and fridge. I called my sister, and made her PROMISE to come help me when my folks died. They aren’t hoarders on the level of a 20/20 special, but maybe like on the Clean Sweep level. I’ve tried to help by not giving them things, but experiences, but still, it’s bad. And food is my mom’s achilles heel. I know it comes from growing up with depression-era farmer parents, and from living so far from town (what if there’s a storm! Why, that’s why I have 1 dozen cans of cherry pie filling, the most recent two purchased on SUNDAY) but it’s really insane. My mom has this awesome pantry — if it were in my house, I would honestly never fill it. Or, I’d fill it half with food, and the rest with cookbooks, cookware, and small appliances. Seriously. She has the pantry, and then had shelves built into the basement stairwell to store food, and is now talking about adding a peninsula in her kitchen for more storage. A peninsula would be nice, but not for storage. The solution to her storage needs is to get rid of shit.

I took pics, I’ll be uploading when I return to the land of high speed internet (dialup SUCKS, fyi) but I threw out 4 boxes of (expired) belgian waffle mix, all unopened, and all the big boxes, and 5 boxes of bisquick — all expired, some opened. Four tubs of butter — one expired 2 years ago, never opened. Maybe half a dozen small jars of minced garlic — some opened, some not, I left one unexpired one — and maybe 2 dozen boxes of Jello and/or pudding mix. An entire box ( shoe box size) of spice flavoring packets (you know, like “make gravy!” or “ranch dressing” stuff) that were clearly from the Reagan administration, and while not technically ‘expired’ (no date) I sure wouldn’t rely on them for flavor. Four boxes of shake n bake, original pork flavor, of which one thing was used. a dozen boxes of jiffy mix. Shredded cheese that expired before Ingrid was born. A bag of pretzels, in the stairway storage, that expired Oct 17 02. (It was with three other bags of chips, which have expiration dates of July and AUgust, but no year, and now I’m seriously thinking they are from last year — or earlier.) Literally, 150 gallons of expired food. When I got to the transfer station, the dump guy insisted on helping me, and in his Maine dump guy way said “good lawd, did you load this into the cah y’self? I aint gonna sass you none!” I would guess at least 150 POUNDS of food. That was expired.

I left stuff that didn’t have a date, or was on the cusp or not expired, but I labeled everything with red sharpie marker 07/08. If I come back in a year, and it’s still there? it’s GOING.

My sister is kinder than I, and can explain it well — mom shows love with food, so when Kate was here, she had to say “Mom, I want TWO cups of yogurt. Just two. No more” because if you say “mom, get me some yogurt” then she buys a dozen cups, because she wants to be sure that the ones she loves has enough yogurt, by god. She loves to feed people, as well as “be prepared,” and the two together add up to a food hoarding situation. Oh, and add in that she still shops like she has a growing family at home, AND they spend half their time at the mountain now, and they are not home nearly as much as they were when we were kids.

I told my mom I’d purged the stuff (didn’t even TOUCH the freezer or deep freeze) and she was kind of upset, but Kate thinks she also likes when someone comes in and just dumps stuff like that. I also want to help her make up a printed grocery list — because of this food thing (it’s been a lifelong thing, I remember in high school that my dad took over the grocery shopping after he and I did a purge and found 16 bottles of ketchup, and a jar of cheese that expired before my sister was born — and the reason she wasn’t helping was because she had basketball practice and was DRIVING HERSELF HOME) I am really anal about the food I keep in my house. I made a grocery list in Excel, that I minimized and printed 4 to a page, and it has all our staples on it. I plan our meals on the back, and make the list on the front, and Dave can check off what he is out of. There’s a whole separate column just for Ingrid’s food. (It also helps me by being typed, and I’m not forced to read my own writing.) On Sunday, we all go to the store, my budget is 100 bucks, and I regularly come in under that, and on Monday, when Dave gathers the trash to put on the curb, the last stop is the fridge and we get rid of any leftovers or food that’s passed or whatever. I also don’t have even HALF the storage my mom does — no deep freeze, no massive pantry, the smallest fridge you can get (50s house) — so I live within those boundaries. But yeah, a huge motivating factor is to not end up like my mom, who has been known to wedge the fridge door shut with a chair.

Anyway. Tomorrow, we have lobster and cake and Dave will be here, and that will be awesome.

Ingrid’s daycare is closed, so I took the week as vacation and we are currently at my parents house. Dave couldn’t get the time, so he will join us for the holiday.

So far, it’sbeen awesome. Ingrid has totally opened up to Grammy and Grampy (from her, this morning: “Wake UP, mama! Go see gammyngampy!” and even MORE impressive is that the two things I’d have bet money that she’d have hated, she’s LOVED. First, the boat. My parents got her a new PFD, and she loved wearing that, even around the house, and when it came time for “da boat!” she was alllll smiles, even when dad went kind of fast. He also let her drive, which, again, she loved. Weird.

Today was just about as good a day as you can have — my parents had to work, and won’t be home til midnight tonight, so Ing and I were on our own. This morning was spent coordinating my sister’s 30th birthday present — she mentioned needing/wanting a bike basket, so I found her housemate on facebook and messaged her, to see if kate meant wicker or metal, and her friend jumped in with both feet to help me. I ended up ordering one from REI, so that she can return it fairly easily if possible (the friend couldn’t find one locally) and then I called her fave coffee shop, bookstore, and health food store and bought gift certificates, that the friend will pick up this weekend. Then, she’s going to install the basket (I shipped it to her) and put in the gift cards and some flowers and park it in front of her bedroom door. (I also bought a giftcard at the coffee shop for the friend, as a surprise and thank you for her help.) The idea is to have a “ride around town” and celebrate her 30th in a bigger way than usual (we usually don’t, now) with gifts from local, independent companies (save REI) that are easy to use up, and don’t require much storage. This afternoon we walked over to get the mail — the post office is open about 10 minutes each day, and not after regular business hours so my mom regularly stays home just to get mail — there was 2 weeks there, today — and the schoolhouse where the PO is has a little playground next to it, so Ingrid swang for a bit. The PO also has a book & magazine exchange, so I picked up some reading materials for free.

When we got back from the walk, I was DYING from the heat, so we suited up and hit the beach, where I fully expected at best, reluctant toeing of the water, and at worst, full meltdown. The lake is spring fed and because the beach area is right by the dam, the moving water makes it even colder. It is, to say the least, refreshing. But no! Ingrid sat right down and played with the rocks, and waded out, and then I carried her way out and swung/floated her around and she LOVED it. WHen she toppled near shore and went under, she came up sputtering but happy, never shed a tear. She didn’t want to go, but she was starting to shiver, so I made her.

She went to bed early, I just ate ice cream and am watching House Hunters and reading recycled magazines and life is good. Except for that bigass spider I killed on our bed, which I took pictures of before I sucked the carcass up with the vacuum. I’ll be sending those to flickr, keep your eyes peeled.

I have a bike. I got it when I was 15 (so, um, 18 years ago?) and it was  really good mountain bike at the time (and probably still is?) I rode it a lot when I was in high school, and then not much after. The last time  really rode it, my pants caught in the chain and I went head first into a ditch and that sucked, and honestly, made me really wary of the whole idea ever since. I’ve basically been a non-cyclist in my adult life.

Anyway, I saw mention of this bike called a “townie,” and started reading about it and was completely entranced. A bike for non-cyclists! A comfy seat! Not all hunched over with weird balancing!  And now, I totally want one. Dave has a bike, but rarely rides because he can never find someone to ride with, and we’ve often talked about having family bike rides, but, you know, it freaks me out. (One description of the Electra Townie, on their website!, was that it was made to help people conquer their fear. Dang.)

I’m not going to buy one right now, but it’s on my radar. My sister, it turns out, has moved to the comfort cruiser bike style, and she recommended hers — a Trek Wasabi.

The bike that made me realize these even existed is the Electra Townie, which comes in Orange, which I realize should not be a deciding factor. LLBean carries the Townie, in the most boring champagne color, but the outlet often has bikes (and has a men’s townie right now) and sales, so it could be a cheaper way to get one. Already checked craigslist and unclehenrys, and nothing is there.

Dave thinks it’s kind of geeky/old lady, but, you know what? I AM a geek! I am closer to old lady than road racer/Moab-bound cyclist, for SURE. Any biking would be around town, maybe on the carriage trails or city forest, you know? Whatev, celebrate the old lady!

Anyone have any experience with these bikes? I thought about going to work on one, but there’s this one hill that has me a little scared of that (14th street) and going to the gym would be an easy get-there, but harder getting back, I think (have to try though, but straight up Hammond, for anyone who is familiar with the area).

DSC_5674
Originally uploaded by gretchen04401

This is my best friend, almost two weeks ago, bobbing in the Gulf of Mexico. She just turned 33, a whole month before me. She attracts people of ALL KINDS, and never refuses a kid selling something for scouts or school. I try to remember that, when kids come a’knocking at my door.

Anyway, I spent four days at her crazy gorgeous house in crazy gorgeous Florida. It was the first time I’d left Ingrid for more than one night, and it was great — I missed her, but not in a desperate, pining way, more like the way I miss Dave when I’ve traveled — I look at everything and wish he could be there to see it.

Also, four of the last five air trips I’ve taken, I’ve spent at least one night in the airport, or put up by the airline. Traveling from Maine is such a bitch, but so worth it, even if I was sleeping on a bench at JFK with a whole lotta other people. And when I got back to Maine, it was Summer.
I should post more. I have some brewing, they just never spill out onto the blog anymore. Blah.

There was a terrible crime committed in this state last week; a home invasion left a man and his 10 year old daughter in critical condition. It happened in central Maine, and investigators said that the public was not in danger (it sounded like there was probably a backstory) but I was on the phone with a student, or faculty member, or someone, when an email came across from the BDN, saying "suspect arrested" and because it's been a pretty publicized case, I was eager to see what the deal was. And I read the name, and my stomach just dropped, totally dropped. I knew the name.

It's Aton's brother. Aton, the dead ex-boyfriend, dead 10 years come August, the one I've written about, every few years, on the various iterations of my blog. The last time I saw Leo was at the funeral, he was 8 years old and in an ill-fitting goodwill (probably) suit. He had a camera, because he was interested in photography back then. An old film camera.

I don't know Leo, really, at all. But I knew his brother so, so well. I knew his sister pretty well too — her kids must be 10 and 8 or 9 now, and I wouldn't be surprised if she had more. I know that the family they grew up with was abusive and violent, and that's why Aton was his sister's guardian. We used my car to pick her up, one time. God, that would be 14 years ago now. 14 years. Aton wasn't much older than than his brother is now.

I've been reading the articles, though, and trying to piece together what's happened since. It sounds like he wasn't with his biological family, and hadn't been for a while. I wonder if that was his choice, or if, eventually, someone intervened.  It doesn't mention his sister, or his other brother. I've been reading the comments, to see if there's more information there.

I was so distracted as soon as I saw the name, and then the picture, that I don't even remember talking to the student or finishing the call. As soon as I hung up, I burst into tears. The first picture I saw, he looks so angry. But he also looks so Aton. And today's story was about him going before a judge, and that video was even more Aton like — he didn't look as angry, he just looked… more Aton. And I know they aren't the same person, but it's just so weird and sad.

Today, the video of his hearing was on the news, and they zoomed in on his face, and Ingrid walked up to the tv, and patted him on the cheek. The picture disappeared, and she turned around, once again disinterested in the television. It was so out of character for her to even notice the news was on, and then to go over and do that… it just broke my heart a little bit. I can't believe it's been ten years.

Checking out the playground
Originally uploaded by gretchen04401

I think because I started to miscarry on Mother’s Day, three years ago, I can never take this day for granted. I am so, so lucky to be a mother, to have such a wonderful family, such a gorgeous, spunky, funny, daughter, and a husband who respects me and loves me. If anyone is reading, and still feels pain on days like today, I am wishing for you, hoping that one day, you have someone to give you “Big hug! Again!” on mother’s day. It’s the best thing, ever.

tv chest
Originally uploaded by gretchen04401

One of our spring projects is to do a DIY headboard, because the wall behind our bed is getting scratched up (by Ingrid mostly) and just dingy as walls-behind-beds tend to do. This is the general color scheme in our room (no real linens — the comforter right now is just a naked LLB down one, and the curtains I made from an old cover, and I’ll worry about those later, since I also want to do cordless blinds, which would mean I could have actual colored curtains…. long story), anyway, the wall behind the bed has no chair rail, and is just the darker green — Sherwin WIlliams Coastal Plains, which one website called “Fundamentally Neutral” when I googled it just now. I’m thinking of a coppery orange, but then again, I love orange. If you check my photostream, you’ll see a pic of the wall behind the bed, but it doesn’t really show the palette like this one does.

Anyway, any thoughts?

Here’s the thing: I was on the internet before the internet was cool. I don’t say that to be all "yay, me!" but to set up the backstory, here. I clearly remember trying to describe the World Wide Web to my parents, and I remember getting this book for Christmas, in 94, as a directory of the WWW — with links to fansites like blahblah.edu/~smithj/toriamos.html or whatever. (Not a real site, that was just how it was done then.) Part of that whole thing was that I was a big participant in a BBS (Olohof!) and was just totally, totally fascinated by the concept of instant communication on a global level. I haven’t used the word sysop in years, but in 94, it was part of my vocabulary. It was the beginning of everything else for me, really, because my whole technology thing is that it connects people and ideas, and I was kind of on the leading edge of that concept. Not like Al Gore leading edge, but there were only a handful of us using the computer labs for things other than word processing. I kind of wish I’d taken pictures. Anyway.

In all that, I formed one really tight friendship, with an Aussie named T. It was my first internet friendship, and one that ended up being absolutely essential when JT died, and then Aton 18 months after him, because when you Cannot Sleep because of insanely violent dreams, the Aussies are always awake when the US isn’t. Over five years, our friendship evolved from the BBS to letters and phonecalls and mixed tapes and audio letters. And when Aton died, I needed something to sort of carry me through, so I set this goal of being in Australia, overlooking the 12 Apostles, on 4/6/99. There had been too much death and sadness, and life was short, and goddammit, I was going to Australia, which was a country I’d been fascinated with since I was a little girl and had a picture of the Sydney Opera House taped to my wall.

I saved and saved and saved, and sure enough, I made it, and my IRL meeting with T was one of the most intense things I’ve ever experienced. I stayed with him when I first arrived in Melbourne, for a few days, then traveled the Great Ocean Road, went to Sydney for a week or so, and then finished back up in Melbourne, with T. I was sickened to leave, I cried from Melbourne to Auckland, from Auckland to LAX, from LAX to home, and for a few days after. (Remembering the emotion makes me want to cry, even now, it was that intense.) I came back to the US, got in my car and drove to Phoenix, where I was constantly making plans to figure out how to go back. I moved back to Maine, and found a work visa exchange program, and had the application filled out and was halfway to the $400 I needed to send with it, when I met Dave.

Obviously, you know which path I took. And as my relationship with Dave grew and deepened, I felt conflicted about keeping T in my life. I last talked to him on Halloween of 2001, (6.5 years ago?!), as Dave and I were moving into our first apartment. I cried then, too, just because… I did.

So last night, talking to Jeanne about spiders, I brought up the massive fucking house spiders that existed in Australia, my first encounter with one being at T’s parents house, where we had gone to celebrate his birthday. It was motherfucking HUGE, hanging on the wall behind the television, and when it moved I just about died, right there. (I’m almost positive it was a Huntsman, after some googling…scroll down for a good scale picture) And while I was thinking about it, I realized that, oh. It’s his birthday, today. 4/4. It’s actually the one we joked about, then, because of his Irish/Aussie accent, the th- sound gets clipped to a t-, and back then, he was turning twenty-four, after a year of being twenty-tree, and how tirty-tree was going to be totally made fun of, when it came. Here it is, and I have no idea where he is. It’s weird.

I google once in a while, and today I did again, and the best link I can find is his sister and brother on facebook, but beyond that, there’s nothing. And neither his sister or brother have him listed as a friend (and it’s definitely his siblings — apart from the names and locations, the resemblance is striking) which just seems…. weird. It makes me wonder if he reached tirty-tree at all.

I think everyone has those crossroads moments, and wonders about the road not taken. My wondering about T isn’t about dissatisfaction with Dave, not at all, but just… a wondering. With T, there was never time to be annoyed by toilet seats or dishes or perpetual lateness, there was no end, just a long beginning and an intense middle and one last phone call, where I waved from the road I chose.

In so many ways, though, I thank him — T kept me going, kept me believing, made me a better person, open to recognizing when the right one came along. T was there through the darkest days of my life thus far, without fail, and I know I made the right choice. Had I sent in that $400, who knows where I’d be, but I may be writing wondering about the Dave path, and feeling just as sentimental, and as curious. I could send a message to his sister, but I truly worry that I’d hear that there was no tirty-tree, and for now, I like to imagine him as he was at 24, bandanna around his head, book in hand, leaned up against a pole, waiting for a train, smiling, but only a little bit. Happy birthday, T.

Tongue
Originally uploaded by gretchen04401

I’m doing a photo scavenger hunt thing, to try to stretch a bit with my camera (and, to be honest, to get out into the pleasegodIhope spring weather and get more pics than of Ingrid in the house being cute) and part of that is to also try to do a pic a day, like so many others have done.

But, my achilles heel with this is carrying my D70, naturally. I know a few people out there are doing this, or I think they are, based on their flickr streams, and I just don’t get how that works. I brought my camera to work today, but it’s in my bag. No speedlight (which almost doubles the size) but for someone who doesn’t even carry a purse, never had a diaper bag, etc etc, it’s hard to figure out the logistics. Anyone?

Cosleepin’ with her own baby
Originally uploaded by gretchen04401

My kid is awesome. That is all.