Monthly Archives: September 2008

Pollyanna Rainbow Sunshine, Zombie Mother

Hi, Anna-Liza here. I guess that title could be taken a couple of ways.

Well, yes, I’m a mother who has been feeling more or less zombielike a lot of the time recently. Booty-shakin’ at the Kan’nal concert aside, I’ve been hitting the sack early and still not feeling especially rested. The bronchitis really kicked my ass, and it’s taking quite a while to recover, unfortunately.

But wait! you say. What about Zombie Son? We haven’t heard about him for a while! And you’re right. My son will be a zombie at Elitch Gardens again this year. One of the oddest things about that gig is the number of cute girls who want to give him their phone numbers. (He’s not allowed to take them. Ahem.) And the risk of getting hit by people he scares too well.

And he is apparently begetting other zombies. Oh, get your mind out of the gutter. Geez. He’s my son, for goodness’ sake!

What I meant was, he’s getting otherwise perfectly normal people to play zombies, too. Well, I think they’re perfectly normal. Maybe not.

I’ve mentioned his biggest hobby is playing Airsoft. He and a couple of his friends have started running “Ops” (i.e. organized Airsoft games) together, usually using fairly elaborate storylines, props, and special effects. Last weekend, they ran a zombie op, a night game, at a private Airsoft field which has an old house and an old barn on it. The main group of players were “normal”, and there was a smaller group (initially) of zombies. The normals were defending the house and the zombies were trying to get at them. Pretty usual scenario, no?

So Zombie Son’s script, which only a very few players knew, had a point at which the “generator” would “fail” due to running out of gas, and someone would have to bravely venture out to get the “gas” and restart the “generator”. At the proper time, at which point the defenders were holding their own, suddenly the lights flickered and went out. Zombie Son said, “When the lights went out, there was a solid three seconds of absolute silence. Then the screaming started.”

These were all grown men, folks. Some of them in their 40s and over. Some with military experience. Screaming because the zombies were coming. Because they had gotten so completely into my son’s story.

You should have seen the grin on his face while he was telling me about it. He knows what will make me laugh.

So. Proud.

Pollyanna versus the Cleaning Obsession of Doom

Lyda here. Despite my best intentions, I didn’t spend this weekend catching up on your blogs and leaving funny and/or wise comments. Sorry! It’s on my list!  I didn’t spend the weekend happily stitching away on the Jungle Quilt, either. Bummer.

And I didn’t spend the weekend with Oded Fehr.

Words cannot express the depth of my sorrow.

Edited to add: Some of you don’t know who Oded Fehr is. I keep forgetting that Anna-Liza doesn’t see many movies. At least, not many that involve the undead or massive explosions. Having young kids will do that to a woman. But I thought I’d mentioned him before. I certainly think about him a lot. In fact, I’m thinking about him right now…

Oops. I digress…

Oded Fehr played gorgeous good guy Ardeth Bay in “The Mummy” (1999) and “The Mummy Returns” (2001), and hunky love interest and zombie exterminator Carlos in “Resident Evil: Apocalypse” (2004) and “Resident Evil: Extinction” (2007). Here’s a full listing of his films and TV show appearances.

And did I mention that he’s gorgeous? Oh, yeah. Maybe I did…

No, I spent the weekend battling the Incredibly Filthy House. Well, apartment. But “house” sounds better in that sentence. And beauty is truth, right? But I digress…

I had a long list of other things to do – including blogging – but instead, I decided that the kitchen was just too disgusting and needed intense cleaning. Perhaps it was because I’d been away, and Saturday morning was the first time in three weeks I’d seen the kitchen in the light of day. Scary, kids!

Or maybe my cleaning obsession just kicked into high gear again. Ya think?

I know, I know. By most people’s standards, the kitchen wasn’t “filthy”. We always put food away, and I can’t go to sleep with dishes in the sink – due to a scarring but funny incident in my youth that I’ll tell ya’ll about some time – and as ya’ll know, I’m allergic to clutter.

It certainly didn’t approach the level of crud dealt with on “Clean House” – much less “How Clean Is Your House?”

Have you seen those shows? Wow. Just wow. They make a person feel both better and worse about one’s own home. As in “At least my place isn’t that bad” – because no matter how bad your place is, there’s no way it’s that bad – and as in “They found WHAT growing in those bathroom pipes? Do I have that bacteria in my pipes too??”  – because, ew!  I did watch both programs pretty obsessively in my time away – Must. Get. Cable.– and that may have been a factor in my latest Extreme Cleaning: Home Edition. Because I never ever want those two English women to come to my house and test for bacteria, ya’ll.

I’d rather not know the names of my microscopic roommates. “Hi, I’m Fred, I’ll be your bacteria today.”

See how my mind works? All weird, all the time.

But I digress again…

Anyway, I scrubbed the kitchen literally from top to bottom. The molding where the kitchen walls meet the ceiling? Scrubbed. The floor?  Scrubbed. Every surface in between? Scrubbed.

I finally had to stop to let the floor dry, and as soon as I sat on the couch Tommy the Sith Cat insisted that I stay put and resume my most important duty: being a cat bed. I didn’t have the heart to dislodge him, so I stayed put and watched TV.

Cat Forces Woman to Watch TV – Film at 11. More on what I watched in the next post.

So, what did I do Sunday, you ask?

Quilt? Knit? Blog? Take the day off?

Uh. I did mention I have a Cleaning Obsession?

Yup.

Sunday I scrubbed the bathroom, top to bottom. In my defense, I will say that my bathroom is old and prone to growing new and exotic forms of mold in unexpected places. The ceiling, for example.

Plus there are teenage boys in my house a lot. And we all know, boys are gross. 

Your Honor, I continue to maintain that the bathroom needed scrubbing.

And after the scrubbing frenzy, I took a long hot indulgent shower, did some girly maintenance stuff, got dressed in my sexy jeans, and then…

Still no Oded.

And I’d put clean sheets on the bed and everything.

Just in case.

Ya’ll know.

So I ran some errands, picked up some Chinese takeout, and called it a day.

Just in case ya’ll are wondering, I do enjoy a clean house.

But not as much as I’d enjoy Oded.

Pollyanna Rocks Out

Hi y’all, Anna-Liza here, and I’m glad to know there are 34 reasons to have sex.

Last night, even though it was a Friday night (when I am usually pretty damn tired, and so is Darlin’ K), and I’m still recovering from bronchitis (extra damn tired), we were able to get child care for the kids and so we went to Cervantes’ Masterpiece Ballroom for the Kan’nal show. The only real thing of note about the venue is that the women’s bathroom had quotes from Labyrinth and The Never Ending Story painted on the wall; otherwise, your fairly typical scruffy music venue, with a decent size dance floor.

The show started out pretty good and got better as it went on. Kan’nal has a deep spiritual focus and still rocks hard. Metallica hard, with didgeridoo and ocarina. And firespinning. At least once or twice a year I just seem to need to be in a crowd of people that smells of Nag Champa and skunkweed, waving my fists in the air and flinging my hair around. *sigh* It was good. Darlin’ K and I got home around 2:30, which for us old folks is pretty late. Especially considering that Mr. R had a soccer game at 9 this morning, and then we had to prepare for his birthday party.

Mr. R was born on Knitting Sprite’s 16th birthday, which is today (Saturday). KS is going camping with friends, and I’ll see her early in the week. I did drop off her gift at her house, though. I know this will be a shock, but it’s not knitting related. As soon as your heart rate recovers, I’ll tell you what it is. Two books: 49 Sensational Skirts by Alison Willoughby and Cloth Dolls for Textile Artists by Ray Slater. They are both crafter’s books, and they’re very inspirational, but they’re not knitting. See? I can be unpredictable! (It’s okay, I’m sure she’s opened the package by now.)

Mr. R’s party is tomorrow (Sunday). We’ll be having it at a local park, right by the playground. The cake is Pokemon, the main game is going to be some kind of elaborate spy/treasure hunt thing, and there will be about 10 or 11 little boys there.

Help me, Obi-Wan …

Pollyanna Ain’t Getting Any

Lyda here. I just read this article on marriage… which linked to this article:

34 Reasons to Have Sex

Like we need a reason…

The article says sex helps “strengthen your core — it’s like Pilates without the annoyingly perfect instructor.” I know not of this Pilates of which you speak. Does it belong to that strange realm of “exercise”?

Another reason listed in the article is that sex helps “curb irritability”.

Well.

Dammit.

Now I’m really irritable.

Pollyanna Returns to the Light Side

Lyda here. The Blog Light side, at least.

My virtual vacation is over at last. Now the truth can be told – we were actually staying at our friend’s house while the parents were off on their adventure. I was babysitting – if you can call it that when the boys in question are 8 and 17 – we’ll call them Soccer Dude and Alien Spy – and the Resident Sith Master and I shared dogsitting duties – News flash: dogs shed.

I took all kinds of projects with me, but didn’t get any of them done. Or even work on them. The only thing I did was a little KIP (knitting in public) at the soccer games both Saturdays. I didn’t make much project on the scarf I’m making for RSM – I’m not even done casting on, as it will be a long scarf and I’m casting on lengthwise again.  I was mostly cheering on Soccer Dude. I had fun being Soccer Mom for a Day, but some of the parents had two or three kids in playing in soccer games. All soccer, all day long. I did not envy them.

I mostly watched TV and did endless amounts of laundry and tried to keep myself from overcleaning. Ya’ll have to understand – a whole new house just waiting to be scrubbed! I know, I know, I’m one sick puppy.  But I had to stop with cleaning out the frig – I spilled juice in it, so then I had to clean it, no really! – and sweeping the floors, because my knees decided to swell from going up and down the stairs.

It was fun hanging out with the boys – although I may have gotten a testosterone overdose – except that they were very difficult to feed. We had chicken at least four times – because they would both eat it and the accompanying side dishes. As long as it was mashed potatoes. I don’t think either of the boys ate a non-brown vegetable the whole time, although I managed to get some juice into the younger one.

RSM gamely went along with it all (heh, gamely, get it?) but he has decreed this week a chicken-free zone.

Sunday night, the parents came home and RSM and I returned to our own lair.

I loved exploring the cable channels. And the large shower with endless hot water was luxurious. Also, I got paid, which will put some desperately-needed new tires on the car.

But sleeping in my own bed with my own cat on my head?

That’s luxury.

Pollyanna Flashes Back

Anna-Liza here. I recently ran across a little bit of writing from the time, not so long ago, that we had a family bed. Lyda thought it was funny, so here’s a little Pollyanna Slice of Recent History.

Mr. B, my toddler, has suggestions for other cosleeping toddlers for when they can’t sleep at night and get bored. Here are his ideas:

“Most of these games have the goal of waking up mama, or keeping her awake and entertaining for as long as possible. It’s really funny when she makes those noises! So try these:

–sing “mama mama mama mom mom mommy mama” while gently pinching her tummy repeatedly. Poking is an alternative.

–gently place your finger in her nose.

–climb on top of her and bounce up and down, singing “bouncy, bouncy, bouncy”

–gallop your hard plastic toy horse across her face.

–lose your toy horse and then say “Horse? Horse? Horse?” over and over until she wakes up and finds it for you.

–blow raspberries on her tummy. *Caution* this one might make her flail around and hit Daddy for teaching you to do this. Be careful not to get between them.

Have lots of fun! Mommies are funny when they’re sleepy! These work on Daddies, too, but you have to be a lot louder.”