You might need a nap if......

......you make Tuna Helper and forget to put the sauce packet in the pan. You do not realize this until you taste it and it has no taste. Then your loving husband Twitters it, but who can blame him, really?

Visiting the place of my birth

I am still recovering from the trip last week, and I don't think I can really do it justice. Suffice it to say that we had a great time. The music was good, the visiting even better, and it was tainted by minimal drama and a touch of rain.

I was born in Fort Sill Army Hospital because (good guess) my father was in his 2 year stint when I was born. I don't remember anything about living there, and I have always wanted to see it. My sister and brother were born at hospitals down the road from where we grew up, and it seemed weird. As I have grown attached to Oklahoma through this annual festival and Woody Guthrie, my Okie roots have become more important to me. However, it is more than a short drive from where we stay to
where I was born. My friend T. agreed to go with me this year. The trip from our hotel to Ft. Sill and then to the airport was supposed to be 3 1/2 hours. We left the hotel at 8:30 in the morning, thinking we would have about an hour to see the hospital and living quarters--then head to the airport to pick up the friends arriving at 1PM.

Well, as you may have guessed, it was a bit more complicated than that. I think it took longer to drive to Ft. Sill than the map seemed to indicate. We arrived at the base and found armed guards. We immediately wondered if we would even be allowed on the property. They scanned our driver's licenses. I got a green light and my friend got a yield sign. Evidently, she has a name and ID number very similar to hers who perhaps is not the most upstanding citizen.

Everyone was very nice and helpful. When I asked where the hospital was, they asked, "The old one or the new one?" I said the old one, but it missed me by a couple of years. Mine was the one built in 1962, just 3 years before I was born.

We then found out that Geronimo has a grave site there, and it became a mission. It was about 4 miles off the map, and we passed it without seeing it the first time. When we asked some guys doing construction if they knew where it was, they literally pointed over their shoulders.

Geronimo's grave was decorated with a pyramid of red native stones and a statue of a bird. People had left trinkets ranging from peppermints to tobacco to figurines. I was pretty impressed to see the place where he had once been held captive be treated with such respect.

Okay, from the rambliness of the post, I can tell I am still too tired. More from me later.

I'm "ga-xhausted"

I had a fabulous trip which I will detail perhaps tomorrow or Wednesday. Here are a few teasers....

My husband (fairly gracefully) tolerated the antics of me and one of my girlfriends goofballing all the way to Okemah, Oklahoma. It took us 10 hours to get there, and when it was just hea and I it took just over 8. He called it a "forced death march" even though we did want to go, we just were having fun along the way.

I saw Geronimo's gravesite.

The weather was a balmy 96ish instead of the 110ish we have seen other years.

The music and friendship was awesome.

The clouds hiding the sun were almost as good.

I am so freaking tired I can hardly see.

I will try to catch up on blogs and commenting soon--but bloglines is looking rather intimidating at the moment.

My neti pot is getting much use this week. I hate allergies.

Judy Collins can still hit the high notes.

Just a Quickie

Arrived safely in Okemah, not much time to spare after a long drive.

Great show by Country Joe McDonald. He focused on Woody Guthrie, but the encore was his Infamous "Viet Nam Rag," as seen on the Woodstock video "follow the bouncing ball." It gave me goose bumps.

Later, I'll have to catch up with all of you when I return. Be good and have lots of fun.

Randomness

It doesn't even qualify as bullets, because that would mean more organization.

I am thrilled to the point of pathology that Dove has a new deodorant that smells like grapefruit. I love anything citrusy for cleaning, bathing, etc. When I saw the commercial, I wanted to go to the store right then.

My boss called and asked me to work past my usual shift today. I informed her that I had an appointment. She asked, "What time?" I thought that was terribly intrusive and it hacked me off.

I got innundated with patients today and some of them had to wait more than an hour for me to see them. I felt really bad being the one with the chart to whom everyone looked hopefully when I went to the waiting room.

I asked my husband nicely if he would watch "The Bachelorette" with me tonight. His reply was, "Can I trade sex for watching it?" Sheesh, men.

I passed a post total of 500 between this one and the old one.

Sidney (the cat) is both obsessed and terrified of the vacuum.

When I asked him about the decor for the nursery, my brother (who has twins on the way) said, "Nursery?" Turns out it it "Jungle," but when I asked for further details (such as brand name), he said, "The usual kind, monkeys, lions, giraffes." My brother is as cool and weird as I am. He wasn't for the longest time...I'm glad he is now.

Leaving Wednesday morning for our annual trip to the Woody Guthrie folk festival. I am very, very excited. My wonderful, bestest friend from Philly is flying in tomorrow night and will drive up with us. I can't wait.

When we gave my father gray hairs

We all know that we have given our parents many gray hairs over the years, but one event in particular came to my mind this week.

I think I was about 13 years old, so that would make the step down of the sibs to be 12, 11, 10 and 8. Add my sister's friend so end up with another 11 year old to the mix. For some reason, my father chose to take all of us to the mall to purchase my stepmother's birthday gift. I think in retrospect, he would consider this a bad decision.

This was during the time of arcades--you know those places full of video games that kids today don't have to frequent because they have everything at their fingertips. My little brother and stepbrother were frequent attendees of arcades.

I'm unsure of the exact timeline of events, but the bottom line was this. All the kids got separated from each other, and my father couldn't find more than a couple of us at a time. He'd put us someplace and tell us to stay and go look for some more. When he returned, the ones he had 'caught' before would have gone away.

At one point, he gave my brothers the present to watch. They weren't paying much attention (Pac Man was getting that) and somebody nicked the present. My sister (at some point) went out to where she thought the car was and didn't see it. So she walked home. I think it was about 3 miles, much further (and on busier streets) than was reasonable even way back then. Somehow my father ultimately rounded us all up and we made it home--but still minus a present I'm sure he couldn't afford to lose.

The reason I remember this event is that I believe it was the last time I was spanked. My father called them "bashes," and they were doled out in specific numbers. We would be folded over his knee and get popped with an open hand. That day, we each got the number to match our age. Somehow the topic of spanking came up this week, and I remembered. When I talked to my dad he remembered also, and managed to laugh about it.

This wasn't the worst thing I ever did as a kid, but it was up there as far as trauma caused to a parent. How about you? When was one of the times you made your parents wish they never had kids?

Relaxing a bit

I won't get into the details here (they are boring and we have moved on), but this past weekend was a significant low point for me. The problems with Brownie seemed to take a big spike, and Sweetheart and I were just not on the same page about things. I now wonder if we were even in the same book. I was so discouraged that my stomach hurt, my head ached, and I wanted to hide under the covers and cry. I didn't do that exactly, but certainly took cover for a bit.

Last Tuesday the girls were here again, and I was really stressed about it. As it turned out, there was indeed another meltdown, but Sweetheart and I both took steps in the appropriate directions as far as dealing with it. And her reaction was different. It is such a relief to get evidence that what you are doing is a good thing because it is really hard to do even though you know it is a good thing. I hope you know what I mean, because I cannot possibly rewrite that sentence.

Then Brownie had her first session with the counselor. She initially didn't want to go, but left really excited about it. The therapist gave us positive feedback about her willingness to talk, her level of insight, and (yay) the fact that she did include me in the picture she drew of her family. (many steps do not do this--they still see their family as siblings and bio parents only.)

I am encouraged, and this is a good thing. I still feel stressed out, but not to the same degree. I am looking forward to an almost 3 day weekend (4 hours of call on Sunday), and then just working 2 days next week. We are going to a music festival with some amazing friends, and it will be good for all.

Have a happy and safe weekend.