K is for Krëg

K is for Krëg, and it is as plain as the face surrounding your nose.

Though not likely, it is possible that K is for Krëg only because Lorrie forgot that back in September she made him an authorized poster on her blog, hoping he'd write something tasteful for her as a guest blogger while she was on vacation.  A mistake I'm sure she'll soon remedy.  

Above: The embodiment of 'tasteful'.

In the meantime, she asked me to consent to an "Interview" to fill out her alphabet posts.  Initially I said no, then I said yes, then I said no again, followed by a maybe and another yes.  Then I remembered that computer monitors are don't work like telephones, so I quit talking to mine, and started typing instead.

... ... ...

LORRIE:  Please tell folks a little bit about yourself.  Actually, wait, no--tell folks a little bit about what you like about me.  Less you, more me.
Krëg:  I like the way you never dispute how unequivocally and amazingly fantastic Krëg is.  You have never questioned the grace and grandeur that Krëg's presence bestows upon us all; how we all shine more brightly in Krëg's reflected light. 

LORRIE:  Why are you single?
Krëg:  Who said I'm single?

LORRIE:  What's great about me again?

Krëg:  Whenever someone feebly attempts to besmirch Krëg's good name, you never hesitate to point out how their breath is reminiscent of the naughty bits of equine farm animals.  You are classy that way.

LORRIE:  Besides being vehemently opposed to placing TVs above fireplaces, what other things do you hate?

Krëg:  * People that hang those dreamcatcher things from their rear-view mirror. 
* The word 'proactive'.  It doesn't make sense in the 'active - reactive' hierarchy; how can you act before you act?  Also, that word is a red-flag (along with 'dynamic' and 'sustainable' and many others) to easily earmark people who have substituted vocabulary for actual knowledge and wisdom.  That word can go screw itself.  It can go screw itself before it screws itself.
* Leprechauns.
* Entropy, and all its contributions to the second law of thermodynamics.  
* Villagers wielding pitchforks and torches.

LORRIE: And what do you love, besides me I mean?
Krëg: Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens.  Also my wife and son.  Quite probably I love them more than anything or anyone.  In fact, I'm going to take a bold position here and say that yes, yes I love them above all else.  That's not to sell short whiskers on kittens or any of that shit.  They just aren't the priority that my wife and son are.

LORRIE: Have you ever been burned by bacon?

Krëg:  Every time I give my heart to bacon, every time I share something of myself, every time I trust those thin slices of cooked pig, each strip of bacon eventually cools to me before ultimately disappearing forever.  This leaves me emotionally scarred and romantically wounded.  So yes, I've been burned by bacon more times than I care to count.  Haven't we all?
Also, I've been scalded by hot bacon grease a few times before, once on my thigh.  That also sucks.

LORRIE: Do you think Megan Fox is pretty?

Krëg:  My mother taught me that beauty comes from the inside.  So until I've seen the video footage of her latest colonoscopy, I can't really judge.

LORRIE:  But not prettier than me, right?

Krëg:  Stop it!  Please put those away!  I don't want to see your scrapbook of flexible endoscope images.

LORRIE:  Favorite Movie: 

Krëg:  That's not really a question  ....  wait  ... are we playing by Jeopardy Interview rules now?  Cool!  What is Big Trouble In Little China, Alex?

LORRIE:  Favorite Bands:
Krëg:  Again, that's not technically a question.  Further, I think the double use of colons violates some central tenet of grammar.  
Here are but three of the many, many bands and artists I enjoy....
Joe Purdy - One of the most prolific artists to ever dodge a major label.  Produces and releases all his own music.
Rolling Stones - Multiple volumes have already been written about the Stones.  I really don't have anything new to add.
Lil' Wayne (here mashed with Modest Mouse)  What can I say about Weezy?  So bad, he's good.  Don't burn yourself.

LORRIE:  Please compose a tribute to me set to music, load it up to You Tube and somehow embed it in the blog post.

Krëg:  No, I don't have time to do that.  Sorry.  But here's this instead.  I think that pig at the end says it all.

J is For.....

J is for Jesse, AKA ComplicatedBoy. He is nine and wants to grow up to be a professional baseball player- scientist- artist- skate boarder- sneaker designer- dentist all at the same time. And the reason that is ridiculous is because THE KID DOES NOT LIKE TO BRUSH HIS TEETH. Ever. He runs his toothbrush under the faucet in case we check it to see if it is wet. So I tell him: "NO, you CANNOT grow up and be a probaseballplayingscientistartistskateboardersneakerdesignerdentist. But you CAN grow up to be a probaseballplayingscientistartistskateboardersneakerdesignerdentistWithNoTeeth." Because as a mother it's my job to make sure he sets realistic goals for life.



We discovered CBoy had ADD almost two years ago now. Which was great. Not just because the diagnosis helped him, but because it gave us a pass. Up until then, it was assumed that at the heart of the problem was permissive parenting -- which is silly really when you consider how much I have paid other people to raise my children. So in a way, part of me did a little Happy Dance when we discovered that the reason life at Chez Veasey was ripe with chaos had more to do with CBoy's unique brain construction and less to do with my fitness to raise a small human being. Or my constant drinking.

But part of me also worried. The part that likes to do her best work between the hours of 3 am and 5:30 am. The part of me that dreads teacher conferences, or state mandated testing, or afternoon homework. The part of me that wishes he would fall into books the way that I did as a child and lose afternoons turning their pages, or attack a writing assignment with gusto and a sharpened pencil.

And when I worry most is when I take a look around and realize how much CBoy is able to accomplish because I facilitate for him: I organize, I cajole, I negotiate, I clear rocks out of his path, I champion him-- I push him onwards and upwards with the sheer force of my love like a cyclone at his back. And then I realize I CAN NEVER DIE. Which is an awesome responsibility that will keep you up between 3 am and 5:30.



So I do worry what the future holds for my boy who loves to tell jokes and design sneakers and play catch with his father for hours but will not read a chapter or write a paragraph. I worry because I worked at Burger King in the 80s and can only guess that they've made that application harder then it was then. I worry and I worry...but then I see something like this picture that he drew the other day and it gives me HOPE.



Because my child is nine and can pun!! Not to mention draw a mean cup of coffee!

And when I look at a drawing he's made like this and see past it into the years ahead, I know there will be a place for him where he can do what he loves to do and do it well: if you can keep a sense of humor, everything will work out. Every little thing gonna be all right. And after all, he may grow up an design mugs like his mother.

I is for INTERIORS

Happy Wednesday Chickens! Time to show you what is INSIDE the house we recently bought. These are the "before" pictures. The "After" pictures may have to wait until we reach R for Renovations, because K is for "Keep Forgetting the Kamera." Anyhoo-here is the inside of the house we bought....

BEFORE: Walking in from the front door.

We kept the fireplace, but everything else went to white.

The Old Kitchen:


The only thing we kept in this room were the stove, the fridge and a few remaining threads of our sanity as we took this room down to the studs. Wait til you see how different it looks now!

The Original Mudroom


We kept nothing here but the walls and a skylight- stripped the wall paper, laid down a new floor, put in a new light fixture.

Former Family Room


We have discovered that one of the biggest challenges most new home owners face is WHERE TO PUT THE TV. How many marriages have been wrecked I wonder when the husband refuses to capitulate to the wife and put it over the fireplace?

Their Dining Room

Everything is gone now except the light fixture. One wall is a soft green and will have birch trees on it. If it ever gets FINISHED. Note to Sexyhusbandomine: Less time arguing with your wife over where the TV goes, more time putting up vinyl wall art please.

Kid's Bathroom:


While a bidet might do much to improve Complicated Boy's personal hygiene, we chose to remove it and replace it with a washer and dryer. His bottom may be less than pristine, but darn it, he will have on clean underwear.

There are other rooms in this wonderful old house that we bought. Rooms where you can do things we have never been able to do in an apartment--like Store Large Christmas Decorations or Have Family Sleep Over and Not Want To Kill Them (Just kidding Dad. We Loved having You. Seriously. A week was not long enough.) There is this thing called a garage where I will be able to put all of Sexyhusbandomine's tools and not have to look at them! And a basement where the cat box can go. But the greatest thing of all is: MY OWN BATHROOM. (Well, really, it's supposed to be Sexyhusbandomine's and mine together but I figure he will use the one out in the garage. Where he will be sleeping if he doesn't stop arguing about where the tv goes.)

H is for HOUSE

H is for HOUSE



Houses by Lennymud on Etsy.

So at the ripe old age of...well let's just say much later than expected... Sexyhusbandomine and I are the proud owners of our FIRST HOME. Instead of Mooovin on Up To The East Side, we are Mooovin on out to THE BURBS. To a lovely little town called (stalkers please ready your pencils now) Haddonfield, New Jersey. Which looks like THIS at Christmas:



Instead of THIS covered with a light dusting of grey colored snow:


I consider myself a native of this Island. I have been here since I was 1985 (obviously abandoned as an infant by my parents and forced to fend for my 10 year old self. Do the math people.) and dammit, I LOVE NEW YORK.



New York has been great to me. But It's time to tell New York that we must go our separate ways.

My children want THIS


Sexyhusbandomine wants THIS


And I want THIS


Apron by Craftster

We will move in June. Right now there are renovations to do (it's hard to take a Victorian House and make it look like a loft in Chelsea but dammit if anyone can do it WE can) and I need to learn to drive (my only experience is bumper cars) and packing etc. etc. etc. Not to mention...DECORATING!!



Sampler from Steotch on Etsy.

G is For...

GONE! Which I have been for lo these many weeks! Let's mark my return to blogging with a list of reasons why I have not been blogging.

1. December: Nonnee's 75th Birthday Bash!

2. Sick kid

3. New website-still needs work, we know!

4. O my gosh it's December: House Guests!

5. Renovating a new house--wait for H people.

6. Jeebuz Cripes it is flipping December: special school projects!

7. Work, work, work, work, work, work

8. OMG it's STILL December: Do we really have to go to ToysRUs again?

9. Sick cat.

10. OMG when will December be over?


But we (which i use in the Royal sense here just to be annoying) are officially back and will be posting the rest of the alphabet in the next two weeks while trying to regain my readership and lose the 10 pounds i gained from medicating my December stress with peppermint bark.

XO