August 8, 2009

• Productive weekend. Made fajitas. Bought a breast pump. Picked up farm share. Made cabbage soup and chocolate zucchini cupcakes with farm share goodies. Collaged thank-you cards for some very nice people.  Aquired instructions for recently scored $15 garage sale car seat. Yoga class. Laundry mat. Dishes dishes dishes.

  Recently, I joined an art collective called League of Extraordinary Letters. Basically, it is a nationwide collective that sends eachother little bits of art in the mail. (We are on a mission to revive snail mail and to give people a reason to do something creative just for fun.)

  Now, I like to sketch and take photos, but I’m not an artist in the talented/motivated/dedicated sense of the word. However, I can write some funny stuff, including notes from a fictional family I call The Beefeaters. Today, I mailed League members a belated Beefeaters Christmas letter from 2007. (Because getting a holiday card in August is funny enough, let alone it coming from 2007.)

  The actual Beefeaters letter involves some really bad clip art and newsletter formatting that won’t display properly on Xanga. But the actual copy is pretty funny (I think). I’ve included it below for your reading enjoyment.

  ***

  HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

  Well 2007 sure was a doozy. Good health, good fortune, and good animal husbandry made us Beefeaters, a prime example of God’s great work. At my position of Midwest shipping and receiving manager for Omaha Steaks, I got a raise. They pay me in steaks as of now, but next year they promise money. This year I got a swanky new shirt. Teensey says it’s “Bitchin’”. Also a new Tim Horton’s opened up down the street. I love their Blueberry Muffins. Yum!

  As you all may know, we experienced some sadness this year. We had to put my wife and our children’s mother, Brenda Beefeater, down in late October. She was getting old and having trouble moving around, so we thought it best to do the humane thing. But we would like to welcome the newest addition to our humble family, Brenda 2, a purebred beagle. It is a period of adjustment for us all, but soon I believe the children will respect and possibly love their new mother.

  Lil’ Jericho’s football team went all the way to State this year. He scored the winning touchdown in the qualifying match against Goodrich. He’s also still dating Cindy Lou. It’s been 2 years and they’re still going strong. May God continue to give her the strength to contain herself until the vows are spoken.

  Teensey’s doing better than anticipated. Lost 80 pounds this year and we couldn’t be more proud. Went to Uncle Tom’s cabin this Summer. It was a hoot! Chaperoned Lil’ Jericho’s school trip to Cedar Point, that Demon Drop is what Grandpa Horace calls a “Stool Loosener.”

  Speaking of which, got a proctology appointment next week. It’s my first. Wish me luck! Well, whatever anyone else says, 2007 was a great year. May God bless and caress each and every one of us.

  Yours in faith,

  The Beefeaters

  ***

  I’ve been loosing touch with writing lately. Life is consuming me. I can’t let it do that. I like myself better when I’m writing, even silly stuff like Beefeaters letters. Ideas come easier from brain to mouth. Journal and me have been great pals this year, as the life changes of this year have been best digested by yours truly in a private manner. But I miss public forums. I miss blogging. I think I might be ready to pick backup again, with real blog essays. Who knows? Perhaps even a shiny new WordPress blog is in order. I just might have something to say about motherhood, once it happens. (When don’t I have something to say about just about anything?) But will I have the time? I could make the time. For that and all the other things.

  Sheesh. Life’s tough, you know? How do you know what to shed and what to cling to? Trial and error, I guess.

  Well, this is a ramble and a half. See what you get when you don’t blog for a while? Crazy stream-of-crappiness.

  I think my laundry is cooked. Landlord put a new machine in the basement. Laundry is down a quarter and rent did not go up with the signing of this year’s new lease. Woo hoo!

  Also: I’m about to give birth, apparently. Well, not right away. But sometime this month. By September 1. At my Thursday appointment, the doctor says I’m 1.5 cm dialated, in case you were wondering what my cervix is up to these days. Also, ultrasound reveals that Fetal Friend is currently 6 lbs, 7 oz. That is HARDLY fetal. This little thing is a bonafide baby! Trapped in a sack! I think she’s getting as restless as me with this whole thing. She lumps around a lot. Sometimes she kicks my guts with brute strength in the middle of the night. Ninja.

  Is anyone else a fan of the Black Eyed Peas song, My Humps? Okay, so by “fan,” I mean: does anyone else enjoy making fun of this song endlessly and singing it to their fetuses? Because when Little Foot moves around, my whole belly lumps in bizarre ways. Like: you can CLEARLY see her legs and feet and rump rummaging around on the inside. To this, I sing:

  “My humps/my bumps/my lovely lady lumps!”

  We’ve also taken to calling the baby Lumpy.

  I’m not afraid of the labor. Something as big and wriggly as a cat lives inside of me and I think she is just about as over it as I am. So bring it, labor. We can handle you. We are tough women and at least one of us is a ninja.

  Before I depart, I feel obligated to apologize for such a crap blog. I’m adding to the online chatter here and I’m probably doing so because Shaun is away working the Chicago con all weekend and I couldn’t wrangle any friends to play with me today so I’ve become isolated and weird in my solitude.
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  What are you up to this weekend?

  • 9:53 pm
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