girl at large

Happy Birthday Thomas!

Happy Birthday little buddy, I hope it was a good one.

Sweater Weather

Suzanne took this shot when we were up in Door County for Pumpkin Patch Weekend a few weeks ago, enjoying the fall colors and layering up for the season.

The List Goes On...

Just a few more of the goodies I found this morning as I do my Saturday tidy-up after Mom's departure; enjoy:

two nail files
5 lighters
eyeglass lenses (yes, just the lenses)
2 glue sticks
Israeli marina flag
two blister packs of unidentifiable medication
Turkish Chicklets
a mallet
22 rolls of ribbon
two buckets, one coffee can
earwax removal kit
pink nail polish
a pack of foreign chewing gum called "First Sensations"
clip on sunglasses
AARP starter kit

Who leaves behind a MALLET?

Mom Droppings

Mom left for Door County earlier this week, leaving me lunch-less, and leaving...well, what didn't she leave behind? Little reminders all over the house, let's call them "Mom Droppings":

2 tote bags
3 pairs of shoes
baseball hat
2 plastic tumblers
6 books
13 articles of clothing, not counting random underthings
1 plastic baggie of foreign coins
$12.56 in US coins
3 pairs of eye glasses (2 regular, 1 sun)
2 chinese take out menus
1 Milwaukee Bus schedule
electric toothbrush
2 paper cutters
6 People magazines
t square
sheets of paper, rolls of paper, paper and more paper
Turkish hotel soap and shampoo
M&M's (countless)

"Sometimes you just need a Pat."

When Mom leaves for Door County on Tuesday, I'll miss her way with words. My favorites from this summer include:

the "un-empty cup of coffee" (bottomless cup of coffee)
"crudiments" (accoutrements)
being "kerflexed" (combo of kerfuffled and perplexed)
"that microwave guy" (Paul Allen)

Welcome to Edgar

Dad and I took a road trip together this past week to his hometown of Edgar, Nebraska. We swapped Starbucks for Sanka...until we discovered a cafe in Nelson that served fully-leaded, real coffee. Thank god for small miracles. Thank god for small towns.

That's Reason Enough

Mom's coming home for the summer! She called a few days ago, "I just booked a flight, I'll be in on Friday, it's too hot here" (she's in ... Israel).

Storm Warning

Even if the bedroom window had not been open, the thunderstorm earlier this week would have woken me. It was a huge, booming monster of a storm--at one point, the thunder following the lightning by only one second--it was right above the house. I was dreaming when it began, and as the windows rattled from the wind, the storm became intertwined in my dream. As did Buncle Tom's midget story told the previous afternoon. Correction: Buncle Tom's FAMOUS midget story. The story is not famous, the midget was.

Back to my story: in my waking and yet still dreaming mind, the storm was Dorothy's tornado, whirling with Oz characters including aforementioned midget, all wielding menacing commercial table legs.

What Part of Wisconsin Are You From?

We had dinner at Fond du Lac's The Sunset Supper Club on Friday night, it was the classic small town Wisconsin evening out. The only way to describe it is to transcribe the ordering conversation:

"I'll have the petite filet please".
"How would you like that?"
"Medium Rare"
"Baked Potato, Hash Browns, or Cole Slaw"?
"Baked Potato".
"House Salad or Cottage Cheese?"
"Salad" (with Blue Cheese House Dressing)
"Clam Chowder or Tomato Juice"?

This is where I lost it...but I had to control myself, not make too much fun and 'when in Rome' the situation. Dad, as he always had in the past, enjoyed my Tomato Juice.

Happy Mother's Day!

I missed being able to talk to Mom today because I was on the road to Chicago to spend the day with HER Mom. We did talk last week though, and thank goodness--classic Mom, she knew just when to call. Can't even begin to tell you how much I love that crazy broad.

330 West Diversey

I went to Chicago for an Easter Lunch with the Q's yesterday---the drive was fabulous, the sunshine and big blue sky a welcome change from Oregon's permanent haze. It would really perk me up, all that naturally-attained vitamin D, if I wasn't so damn tired from all the recent change. A vitamin can only do so much! The gathering was at MG and Kurt's new apartment in the 330 West Diversey building, where Mom used to live and where MaryGrace, Kurt and Patsy also lived once before. It was strange and comforting to be in such a familiar place.

Grandma Mickey asked me how the new job was going: "I don't have a clue what I'm doing". Laughter.

I had brought a little something for my cousin Andrew because it was his 13th birthday last time I was in town, and another same little something for my cousin Joe because he just picked his college, and a third little something because you never know if there'll be another kid there and well...you gotta be fair. There was a third kid there, a friend of Andrew's, so I gave her the gift--an iTunes card. She was at first perplexed, but then very pleased and thanked me. I shrugged and was relieved I had enough to pass around, even to the quiet kid I didn't know from Adam. It was an awkward moment for us both.

An hour later I realized the grateful little girl was not a friend of Andrew's, but my own cousin Maddy!

Really?

Dad and Jamie came into town for a visit this weekend, and we had a great lunch together. Earlier in the week, I had joked with co-workers that for Dad's visit I'd just take him to Fleet Farm and then to Culver's for lunch--you know, hit all the hot spots.

At lunch I mentioned this to Dad, and he said "Culver's is my favorite restaurant!"

Really? Does Culver's really qualify as a 'restaurant'? Dad: "Sure it does, they have tables!"

The "To Do" List

You've got to see this! Mom is joining a yacht rally through the eastern Mediterranean. As she says, "Going down the Nile has always been on my list of things to do".

On my list of things to do today? Clean some used file cabinets. Ah, the glamorous life of an adventurer.

Adventures in Turkey

Mom saw a Whirling Dervish. As a child, I thought that a 'Whirling Dervish' was an animal, perhaps related to the Tazmanian Devil.

On her blog, Mom worries about tidying up before Marco arrives on the boat---she worries about keeping house in between photos of camels and dervishes and boats on a stormy Mediterranean sea. I suppose some things never change, despite an exotic locale.

A Long Strange Trip

I'm planning out the road trip, and it's going to be a strange one...heading down to LA first to see Tom , and my friends Kristan and Steve...then across to Nebraska to visit Grandma Eileen and Grandpa Bunny, which takes me through Colorado, so I think I'll stop in Boulder. Then through the plains and up to Milwaukee.

Any stops I should make along the way, let me know!

You Can Go Home Again

I'm going to need sweaters. Lots of sweaters.

Christmas Quotes

me: "Your shampoo did something weird to my hair."
Tom: "I don't know what you used, but I don't have shampoo in that bathroom."

Tom: "I don't know what 'gluten' is, but it sounds DELICIOUS! Can you just add it to stuff?"

Out Of The Snow, Into The Smog

It was still night, and it was still snowing. One change of clothes in a backpack, a layer of tights under my jeans, I made my way through a foot and a half of snow (sandwiched between two layers of ice) down the hills to the train station at 5 in the morning. I'll be damned if I'm not going to make it to Los Angeles for Christmas! And I'll be damned if I'm going to miss this train just pulling up because I don't have time to buy a ticket!

The flight to LA boarded on time. Those of us fortunate enough to have purchased last-minute, cheap-o tickets hung our heads, not in shame but to hide our glee, as we walked through the gate crowded with hundreds of holiday travelers who'd been stranded at the airport in some cases, for days. As we were being de-iced (that poor bastard, I hope someone filled his stocking), the white stuff began to fall again in ernest, one hundred squeezed-in strangers held their collective breath. As the plane took off, only 30 minutes behind schedule, it was the first time I heard an entire flight of passengers clap at departure!

Of course, I may have over-anticipated the joy of actually being in LA for Christmas --I spent most of Christmas Eve day cleaning my brothers house.

Anticipation Is Exhausting

Stella was soooo looking forward to the wedding, and then, three minutes into the ceremony, completely konked out.

Ruby's New Cousin

Quite possibly the cutest pictures I have ever seen! Welcome home Zepper! My brother Thomas has a dog, I couldn't be happier for him. Tom's lucky, he can bring him to work and his apartment building is very dog-friendly--he had no excuse not to have one. I don't know all of Zepper's story, he was rescued, but I'll post more when I learn more.

All I know is, I'm thrilled for my brother (he's going to have so much fun, and learn so much!) and can't wait to kiss that freckled tummy.

102nd Thing To Do Whilst Not Smoking

I had given Mom a small set of drawers to use during her stay. Today, as I fidget for more to do, I tackled emptying them out so they can be moved to storage. Here's what I had to triage; some items destined for the trash, others to Goodwill, and if I can locate her particular Greek isle, to send back to her aboard Daste:

-package of Hammond's Old Fashioned Peppermint Sticks
-6 magazines and catalogs
-half pack of Extra Winterfresh gum
-bottle of MucinexDM
-Mission Impossible II DVD
-piece of Japanese printed silk fabric
-one black sock
-two bras
-one pair undies
-half pack of Kleenex
-temporary wrap-on sunglass thingies from the eye doctor's visit
-a pair of gloves
-one brown sock
-one black sock that does not match the other black sock
-one airline travel pack (sleep mask, toothbrush, toothpaste, socks)
-Tea Tree Oil spot stick
-tweezers
-Portland walking map
-wood-handled back brush
-3 euros, twenty US cents

Did I mention this is a small set of drawers? (very small--only 12" wide, 14" deep, 26" high) Oh, mom.

A Broad Abroad

Mom's in Greece!

In Touch

Check out Mom's new blog!

Bachelor Aid

Tom adjusts to the new location of 'his spot'. Ruby stands guard.

Before

After

Tom's new place is great, big and light and roomy. All the family pitched in to send him furnishings--from Grandpa's prints to Mom's rug to John and Molly's redo of the chairs to Aunt Peg's couch, table and bed. He worked on Friday, so I spent most of the day cleaning, organizing and arranging furniture...sounds so familiar. Was I on a break or still at work? I have a problem--even 1000 miles away, I still want to put things in their right place.

Favorite conversation with my brother (aside from The Lightbulb Story):
Tom: sniff, sniff "Did you wash my sheets or something?"
Me: "Yes, I washed your sheets, the toss pillows covers..even your duvet cover."
Tom: "You can wash those?"

Did we not grow up the same house? At least I was spared the Easy Mac--he had that for lunch when I was out enjoying my time in LA...by visiting a furniture factory.

New Years in LA

I flew down to Los Angeles today for a visit with Tom and Mom (who came down to spend Christmas week with her boy)----it's warm and sunny and we're all free from work....so where did we go?

The Grove.

For those who haven't been, my only advice is to treat it as if you were an alien visiting a new planet, just observing the behavior and habitat of a strange species.

You don't even want to know.

"Who ever gets f###ed first, wins."

Haven't We Discussed This Before?

Mom: I picked up your dog's doodle today.
Me: "Doodle?"
Mom: Yes, her, you know...doodle.

A woman who rates her farts at night from the other room ("That was a TEN! Did you hear that one Kate?") has to use a euphamism for the dog's business?

Family Holiday

Stella, Peg and Mom
Thanksgiving 2007, Portland

Family Time

Turkey Coma

Last Minute

Today's last minute grocery list:

-Ant traps
-Booze
-Flowers
-Spray Bottle
-Vinegar
-Fire Starters

That's exactly the list Mom gave me. Sounds like a Holiday with the Adams Family.

It's the little things.

Mom: I just want you to know I picked up your dog's poop today. (grossed-out face, tongue sticking out).
Me: You walked her? That's great, thanks. Wait, haven't you always picked up after her?
Mom: No, I never told you that. I always left it, acted like I didn't see her doing it. It was France, no body cares.
Me: Well, this is Oregon, you have to pick up!
Mom: I know, so I did. It's in your kitchen garbage.
Me: What??! (grossed-out face, tongue sticking out)

Welcome! (I think).

Mom has arrived! In less than 24 hours she managed to:

-comment on the size of my breasts, the shape of my eyebrows and the 'cuteness' level of my butt.
-find the only dusty spot in the house. Who wipes down the top of the refrigerator?
-use more toilet paper than is allotted the average Ukranian village in a month.
-spread debris through out my previously tidy house, including balled-up kleenex, empty cigarette packages, boating magazines, gloves, and what looks like a personal support garment.
-insult my television. Can appliances have hurt feelings?
-wear a red "Wisconsin" sweatshirt, momentarily throwing me back into 1991.
-out-crass the crassest person I know.
-make dinner of an unidentifiable meat package left in my freezer since move in day.

Oh Mom, so glad to have you here!

Spruced Up

Before/After

The house is nearly complete, the spiffing up as far as it's going to get before the family arrives. The spare room got the biggest make over...

Still didn't manage to make that much room in the closets, and the storage space is overflowing...nothing worse than having the extra room to store stuff I no longer need...I wonder what is in those boxes way in the back anyway?

Before/After

Before/After

holiday countdown

Only a week left until M-Day, when Mom arrives to spend Nov, Dec, and part of Jan with me. In my rush to get the house spiffed up, I've neglected to consider the number of people coming for Thanksgiving, expecting to enjoy a hearty holiday meal, and not expecting to sit on the ground to do it. There will be 5 1/2 of us (including my 3 year old niece, the half in that number) and my little kitchen table barely seats 4 for grilled cheese.

I also just remembered that my brother will be bunking here, and if he's to sleep on the couch, I'm short a blanket. BYOB?

It was suggested that Mom and I bunk together, giving Tom the single bed in the study. But that's just not happening. I pre-paid a pedicure appointment for Mom so I don't have to give her a foot rub (sticking her feet in my face, 'here, rub my feet'. Sure mom, but can I finish my Wheaties first?), I'm surely not going to let her crawl into bed with me. I love Mom, but she farts. And then giggles. And then asks if I can smell it.

I'm sure they are all here to see me and enjoy the warm company of family, but in my heart I know they will leave thinking "Can you believe all the dining chairs didn't match?", "I see she didn't get the curtain rods hung in time, her life must be a mess" and "Who serves pumpkin pie indian style on the floor?"

Portrait

This sibling portrait arrived with the skaters painting--the frame needs replacing, but the faces are the same. It looks good above the fireplace, but it's strange to see us looking back at me. On occasion, walking by it quickly, I get the eery feeling that I'm in the old house, that it's 1989 and I'm grounded.

Skaters

Mom had this painting sent to me last week (thanks Uncle Bill). It hung for years in our entry hallway in Fondy, then in Mom's apartment on Diversey, then at Grandma Mickey's while Mom's been abroad. I'll be lucky if the plant next to it will last a fraction of that time. I've always loved this painting, feel very luck to have it in my home. I should know more about it ---anyone know the story?

It looks fantastic in the living room, I could look at it for hours. It's starting to feel like a permanent home here, one little piece at a time.

vroom vroom

Tom called the other day, something he doesn't do very much. I'm never home according to him, as I cannot easily be reached. I will not get a cell phone, don't bother bugging me about it. So, I called him back, hoping it wasn't bad news.

It wasn't.

He got a new car. A Lotus Elise!

boo!

Cleaning out my computer files, I found this copy of a funny IM conversation I had with my brother a while back. Enjoy.

tnoe@mac.com: hey, do you know how to pronounce Hibou, which I think should be french for owl
Katemikkelsen: ok, that's the strangest question
Katemikkelsen: if it is french, then drop the H "eeebou"
tnoe@mac.com: like boo
Katemikkelsen: still say the "i" , but pronounced like our "eee"
Katemikkelsen: so "eee-boo"
tnoe@mac.com: right
tnoe@mac.com: is it boo or bow
Katemikkelsen: boo
Katemikkelsen: bou = boo
Katemikkelsen: beau=bough
tnoe@mac.com: like a ghost
Katemikkelsen: yes, like casper
tnoe@mac.com: thanks
Katemikkelsen: it's not coming up in my dictionary
Katemikkelsen: where is this from?
Katemikkelsen: oh wait, it's L'hibou...yes, owl
Katemikkelsen: have a good one
tnoe@mac.com: you too, thanks

Happy Birthday Noodle!

Mom is so proud.

My brother Tom on Ring My Bell. Can you get a Drunk and Disorderly fine online?

It's hysterical---note the correlation between taking shots and the use of the word 'dude'.

Dr. Scavenger

Passage from Dad's recent e-mail:

..."Spent the day yesterday building a cold frame with is a box covered by a window you use to grow vegetables when it is too cool for a regular garden. Found the window at a curb side in Waupun. Picked it up in my black suit and truck at 4am hoping no one would see their surgeon at work."

Not surprising, this from the man who sent me an entire roll of photographs of his corn growing!

Happy Mother's Day!

Hooked on Hokey

I knew I did good when the phone rang and it was Grandma Eileen (of the Long Distance Is So Expensive generation)! She loved the lacey crocheted table cloth I finally finished and mailed off to her, knowing she's the only one who would appreciate the extra-large-doily look. It's a shame this style of crochet is out of vogue (or is it? or is it just to me?) because it is so fun to make---thread is easy to work with and the complicated pattern details are very rewarding to master.

Christmas is in the details.

I was up at 6am. Not to prepare treats and holiday surprises, but because the goddamn phone rang...
Mom. Getting an earlier flight. Arriving at 1:30 instead of 4:30. Throwing out of whack my carefully drafted do-nothing-until-absolutely-necessary Cleaning The House for Company Plan. Crap.

Keeping in mind the Theory of Good Enough (more on that later), I quickly edited the list of things required for Visitors. Out the window--defrosting the broken freezer compartment of my undersized refrigerator. You see, it's broken. It's been broken for months. I have a mini glacier in my mini fridge. Every few weeks, when the door won't close properly, I hack at it with a butter knife, breaking free chunks of the white stuff to fall, avalanche style, to the floor. Ruby loves these moments--a little violence leading to something new and interesting to eat off the floor. Dogs love that stuff. Eat it right up.

Five hours later, surveying my freshly tidy five hundred square feet with a little bid of pride, the mini fridge was now a major worry. She would find it. She would open it. She would see. And she would squeal, "Kathleeeeen! WHAT is THIS?"

I shook my head to clear it of neurotic thoughts, reminding myself that this is a woman who ashes her cigarettes in decorative pottery. She would be reasonable, see that the fancy bed pillows were just the right shade of aqua, the picture frames dead-on straight, the lightbulbs all optimum wattage, the bathroom bleached top to bottom. She's a reasonable woman, she would understand that one small oversight in a busy life is allowable. It is BROKEN after all.

------

She is not a reasonable woman. She is still captive to the Mother gene. The offending fridge was found in the first 2 minutes. "Kathleeeeeen!" Mom spend day two (while I was working), in my apartment, all day, defrosting.

She ashed in my pots.

Christmas is for the Dogs

Throughout the family holiday, Miss Ruby never lacked for her favorite thing; a warm lap.

Merry Christmas!

Tom, the Tattooed Elf

Tom and Devon, the Threes of Us, I better get baking!, Traditional Christmas Jammies styled for the Italian life, and Tom Injures Self with Own Gift.

Rockin' Christmas

Mom rocks out....thanks to her new iPod Shuffle from Tom and Devon...already thoughtfully loaded with a hundred of her favorite tunes...no techknow required!

Put a bow on that, I'll take it!

Mom's going home to her own gift....Marco (scroll down), her new boaty hired-hand.

wake up call

Well intentioned, but far too early....the phone rings at 7:30am today:
-"Hyeowullo?"
-"Hi Kate! It's Dad! Happy Birthday!" (with far too much enthusiasm for this early)
-"Whoueitkd?" (clearly not clear-headed, asleep and deeply troubled by Spanish Coffee intake night before)
-"Oh, is it early?"
-"Yes"
-"Did you go out last night?"
-"Yes"
-"Are you off work today?"
-"Yes"
-"Oh, guess you could sleep in then!" (with laughter)
-"That was the idea"
-"Happy Birthday!"
-"Hurempht. Thanks" click.

all those teeth

I've neglected to properly label this photo---I forget sometimes that I have 'readers' outside the immediate family. So, for Dawn ("Did you find a vintage photo or something?") and Mike (Who ARE those people? They look FABULOUS!")---
Aunt Grace (recently passed, see previous entry), Grandma Mickey (she of the eleven children), Aunt Marie (still partying past midnight at 90) and Uncle Bill.

Too early an exit...

The trouble with burying someone better than yourself is the feeling that you have so much more to accomplish. By the standards by which Aunt Grace was eulogized, I have a long way to go to be the person I want to be.

1923--2005

Housing, racial equality activist

By Andrew L. Wang
Tribune staff reporter

November 26, 2005

When Grace Mertz's son searches for his mother's name in newspaper clips of protests and strikes in Evanston in the 1960s, he doesn't find much.

But anonymity didn't stop her from speaking out against inequity--whether it was housing discrimination or racial prejudice, school segregation or lack of minority voting rights.

"Every time it says `local Catholic organization,' that's my mom; every time they describe a march as `mostly Negro,' the `mostly' is because of my mom," said her younger son Thomas, a historian. "When you read between the lines, she was there."

Mrs. Mertz, 82, died Wednesday, Nov. 16, in Evanston Hospital from complications of skin cancer.

She was born in 1923 to a working-class family in St. Louis. Her father, a steelworker, died when she was 5, "leaving behind a pregnant wife and three daughters," her son said.

"They made do and scraped by," he said.

With a loan from a relative, he said, Mrs. Mertz graduated from Sacred Heart Academy in Springfield in 1940. But without money for college, she moved to Joliet and began working as a stenographer at a procurement office for the War Department.

Later, the man she worked for was transferred to Oak Ridge National Laboratory in Tennessee, where the Manhattan Project was in progress. Mrs. Mertz followed her boss there.

After the war, she returned to St. Louis and found work at an advertising company, where she became one of the few female media buyers for the firm and later handled its radio advertising account for Anheuser-Busch, her son said.

About a decade later, she met her husband, Edwin, on a business trip to New York. The couple married in 1957, her son said.

They lived in New York and San Francisco before settling in Evanston in 1962, when they bought the home they lived in the next 40 years.

In Evanston, Mrs. Mertz, driven by her Catholic ethos and informed by the poverty she had experienced, became an activist.

As president of the Christian Family Movement at St. Athanasius Roman Catholic Church in Evanston, Mrs. Mertz wrote letters, circulated petitions and organized protests decrying housing discrimination against African-Americans, her son said.

In March 1965, as Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and other civil rights advocates walked from Selma, Ala., to Montgomery for voting rights, Mrs. Mertz and her friends chartered a bus and drove with about 40 other activists to join the march.

In the early 1970s, her son said, Mrs. Mertz spearheaded an effort to build mixed-income housing on the site of Marywood High School, an all-girls Catholic school that closed in 1970. Mrs. Mertz found investors who agreed to buy the 9.5-acre plot, but the plan failed before the sale was completed because the City Council blocked the rezoning. Still, her son said, it was not a total loss.

"She had raised enough public interest to the point where there was no way it could be used for market-rate housing," her son said. Instead, the city bought the land; the building is now used as the Evanston Civic Center.

In the 1970s and '80s, she also served on the board of Evanston Neighbors at Work, a group that helps seniors find low-cost housing, and as director of Evanston Meals at Home, a meal-delivery service, her son said.

In addition to her husband Edwin and son Thomas, Mrs. Mertz is survived by her older son Michael; sisters Marie Neu Liendecker and Mickey Quinlan; brother William McMullan; and three grandsons.

Services have been held.

----------

alwang@tribune.com

Copyright (c) 2005, Chicago Tribune

Despite myself.

Damn it, I'm happy. Portland, more clearly than ever after some time in Smogville, is becoming a very liveable, enjoyable city with lots to offer. My job is good, I like what I do and I seem to not suck at it. I've had the chance to travel to see beloved family recently. Friends have journeyed here to see me. My dog still greets me with enthusiasm. I'm not painting, but I'm ok with that--it will come back, when I have the time and inspiration in the future-and I like that, I like that it's my little thing to pull out when it pleases me and me only. I have friends all over the world, most of whom keep in touch regularly with stories of adventures great and small. My little apartment is looking like a proper home, only a few projects remain and who wants to be short of home improvement projects anyway? My health is good; a good friend just the other day said I look great, that despite what I say about living here, it must work because it looks good on me. Ha ha. I think I finally let the boy go, so I'm ready for the next new boyfriend (that was only five years in the making). With the good job and new wheels, I have new freedoms to enjoy and adventures to plan. I was even recently paid to write about my crocheting hobby (and the resulting bersitus). So, I'm good, I'm ready..bring on the next big thing!

Ok, so it's good here. I'm happy. Damn it.

I did too.

Rumor has it that my brother Tom enjoyed my visit.

la famille

the love, the love, the love

vroom vroom

My brothers new baby.

dropping in on friends

Mom and Bert update, including a pic, from fantastic Charlotte in Antibes!

cutie pie

Latest pictures of little Stella. My favorite? Her in a new dress and sunhat made by Auntie Kate, of course.

Latest update from Mom and Bert, sailing somewhere off the coast of Italy

Mom and Bert on Tishie Mae I, last fall

Mom and Bert, in trouble with the Italian law! Bert took the tender too close to the beach, unknowingly, and was apprehended by "gorgeous Italian coast guard men in white uniforms, you should have seen them!". Escorted ashore by no less than eight of these water police, Mom, as owner of Tishie Mae II, was held responsible. Bert was released into HER custody! ha!

American courtesy saved the day---the Italian coast guard officers were so surprised by their cooperation and politeness that they issued only one small ticket (Bert was also 'paperless', quite an offense in a country so engaged in beaurocracy) and even apologized for having to do it.

The topper of the story? On the form, of course there's a form, there was a line specifically for "Excuse". The officer insisted Bert offer an excuse. Bert's response? "Stupid American"!

Bert, released in Mom's guardianship, has some sucking up to do! They're on the way further down the coast later this week, headed for a bay near Rome so they can do an inland excursion into the city. More updates to come, and hopefully, some photos too.

an hour without yarn is an hour wasted

I sent my sister Margaret a box of goodies a few weeks back, mostly crocheted goods; one for her upcoming birthday and many crocheted goods for her little Stella. In her kind thank you note, she says "I don't know how you find the time!".

Oh, lord if she only knew. I have more time to spend on crochet than any under-60 person should be allowed to have. That's the one benefit of living somewhere you really rather wouldn't.

UK ok

Peg, Ryan and baby Stella are safe and sound.

Dad called yesterday. Big, exciting news in Fond du Lac...a new Pic n' Save. When I get down about living here, I must remember the alternatives.

flowers and floats

You should always buy yourself flowers. And a tip I learned from Mom: when they ask if it is a gift (in whatever language), always say 'Yes'. Never say no to better packaging.

Today is the Grand Floral Parade--I best go turn on the tv and see what it's all about. No way I'm dealing with the tourists, kiddies and traffic to go see the thing myself. Besides, it's cold out there!

awww, wook at da wittle baby

hello govn'r

Dad's visit to London to see Peg, Ryan and Baby Stella

can't think of suitable title

I had no idea this happened on my sister's street until just the other day. good lord.

small, complicated world

Dad and technology are having a rough time this week. He says it's easier to take out a gallbladder than it is to send photos online. And now, his tractor won't shut off. It's been running for 12 hours straight now, is almost out of fuel. The tractor guy is coming to pick it up for repairs.

'The Tractor Guy'. Who is the tractor guy? Does every town have one?

Funny, related story:

I have a customer, very friendly and chatty, who happens to be from Wisconsin. Turns out, when he was a med student, the school farmed them out to spend a few days working with 'country doctors' in small towns and rural areas. He got sent to.....wait for it........Fond du Lac!!!!

cool is cyclical

How could I (k)not know that March is National Crochet Month? That article, brought to my attention by sister Peg, only makes passing comment on crocheting, focusing on the 'hipper' hobby of knitting, but it's still sticks and thread.

In honor of this special month, I'll share the best crochet story I've ever heard:

When my mom was a young administrative assistant at the hospital in Evanston, IL (where she met my father), she worked the quieter late shift. To pass the time, she crocheted. She crocheted little triangles. Dozens of them.

When someone asked, preferably a male dr. or med student, she would say she was making herself a bikini. Visual---mom coyly holding up a teeny triangle and asking "What do you think? Will it look good on me?"

Crocheting may be cool again, but nothing beats that!

p.s. I have vague memories of playing with a basket of colorful, crocheted triangles as a small child. Just my imagination? I can't say.

Happy Easter!

It's not Easter without Peeps! Or homemade matching dresses, white knee highs and little boy bowties.

I suspect that first picture isn't actually Easter--it's far too green--note the interior shots of the other two, and the just barely visible snowy scene out the window. Peg, Tom--do you remember? And Tom--in that last shot, how did you get such a raw deal with that teeny weeny basket??

Of course, now, my holiday treat comes in a bottle, not a basket. I wonder which color Peeps go best with red wine? Blue? Yellow? Pink?

over there, over there

"Grandpa Mikkelsen" and "Noodle"

Dad just returned from a quick visit (four days! no jetlag recovery time!) to London to see Peg and Ryan and of course, the person of the hour--Stella. I can't get over how much little Stella looks like my sister (it's in the eyes) and how very much Dad looks like his dad, my Grandpa Bunny.

the sequel

Mom and Bert on Tishie Mae I last summer, Mom one of the five lovely towns of Cinque Terre on the Italian coast last year

It's official, late last week Mom found the bigger boat! Tishie Mae II (a Jeanneau Sun Odyssey) smaller than I would have suggested for living in tight quarters on water with your brother--only 37 feet, but she swears they'll make it work. They've survived with only one bathroom in the apartment for this long, what's the trouble with one head? And as long as Mom keeps Bert fed, I think all will be well.

It's moored in Viareggo, Italy, near Le Spezia and the Cinque Terre area we loved so much last year. The "crew" will be based there for about a month for training and shake-down cruising before they head off into the horizon...

it has the sexiest legs

I picked up a new desk (or should that be A desk?) this week--and it's yummy. It's by Paul McCobb for Planner Group, if that matters to anyone. It doesn't to me--I just love that it's perty, blond and petite. Hmm, that didn't come out like I meant it.

And two cute little scruffy-mods just starting their vintage furniture business adventure hand-delivered it. Bonus.

Now I just have to save my pennies for that perfect task lamp (the Tolomeo floor model) for reading at the sofa, or should I say more accurately: working at the crochet-station. How is it that I didn't come by one of those fifteen years ago when I lived with Aunt Maria, who had them stacked up and multiplying like wire hangers in the closet?

I thought we were warned not to play with those drycleaning bags?

"Mom" and "Dad" with little Stella--protected for the London climate. Stella out of the bag!

If you ask me, I think it's "stellar".

the set being blocked, baby Stella 'wearing' it

Not the greatest images (sorry), but this is the 'layette' set i made for little Stella's first Christmas---booties, sweater and bonnet all in cream cotton with french silk ribbon, silk edging and with vintage mother-of-pearl buttons. And yes, I actually crocheted it all myself. Interesting--the cotton thread and pattern (circa 1987) were given to me by Grandma Eileen when I stopped by in Nebraska--the thread had been hanging around in her basement along with loads of yarn all given to HER by Mom after she closed down The Fibre Shop back in Fondy, back in the day!

I was shooting for tears (on the part of my sis when she opened it in London on Christmas) and I think I got 'em!.

Happy Birthday a moi, et H.

The 5am birthday (international) phone call. Gee, thanks for thinking of me---but maybe next time, think of the time zones???? ha ha.

Oh well, it's my birthday! Woo-hoo! (and H.'s too, woo-hoo!)

family tradition=another way to get more stuff

I forgot about St. Nick's Day yesterday. Though putting a Hershey bar and some colored pencils in your own shoes seems a bit sad.

Wonder what Stella got? You did remember, right Mom?

visit to the middle

Miss Ruby enjoying the affections of Grandpa Bunny.

Things are much the same in Edgar, Nebraska as I recall from childhood---"the" school is still standing, the jello still wiggles, and coolwhip containers are just as handy as ever. bless.

I blame the pending 14-hour drive day for the poor quality of the only shot of me, Grandma Eileen and Grandpa Bunny's chin all together:

have niece, will knit

Stella, making favorite (and kinda freaky) facial expression

there isn't enough yarn in the universe for everything I wanna make this little one...

reflection

this just in from Anna's Thanksgiving visit with the family---"Cloud", the new public sculpture in Chicago's Millenium Park--but everyone's calling it the "Bean". great shot. I really, really miss Chicago--which is strange as I've not lived there in um, a decade? But to me, as I've said before, the holiday season will always be the Q clan and the big shiny city of Chicago. sigh.

Happy Birthday Thomas!

He's a little bummed still about Stella not having been born on his birthday, but this year is still my brother's Golden Birthday (are Wisconsin folks the only ones who know about this? Golden Bday=turning 27 on the 27th, 14 on the 14th, etc).

Happy Birthday Kiddo!

Stella!! Stella!!

look at that cutie!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

She's here! I got the call at 4pm Pacific time, 1am Mom's time in Antibes, midnight in London--just a few hours after my niece entered the world!

Stella Mikkelsen Faulkner, born November 18, 2004, 6lbs 14oz. Mom and Baby are both happy and healthy and on their way home soon.

The Coolest Auntie in the Universe has some yarn shopping to do...the sun sets so early here, what else am I to do but crochet booties??

bon anniversaire

It's Mom's 60th birthday today. No big fanfare, at her request, but a few small celebatory touches to the day are planned. Like taking cover everytime she starts ranting.

Cheered up when she realized there were FIFTEEN well-wishing family members on this ONE phone call!

bye bye inheritance

Mom and Bert are back from their journey through Spain---I got the call before they arrived: "Have dinner ready!" Spanish food didn't agree with them.

The Palmer Johnson boat didn't work out, but on their last day in Barcelona a strong contender for the bigger-boat contest was discovered. A 40ft Island Packet, designed with the retired, gentle cruiser in mind. In addition to being quite heavy, solid and simple to sail (everything is controlled from the cockpit), the interior details have been designed with comfort in mind, for example, all the hatches and stowage bins have pneumatic hinges and interior lights---perfect. Seems she's finally found her personal Winnebago!

Mom's got some new claw-ended stick thingy, just arrived in this morning's mail, another thingmabob she bought for the boat. It scares me: the wierd claw-stick and the propensity for purchasing boat equipment both.

off their rocks

Mom and Bert are driving down through southern France and most of Spain to Gibraltar (a rock the inhabitants share with mean monkeys), determined to see the Pilgrim, a 48ft re-fitted aluminum cruiser originally built for racing by Palmer Johnson in Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin back in '71. Bert swears he saw it being launched back in the day. I have a good feeling about this boat, this could be the one. Will the 'bigger boat' quest ever be over?

have credit card, will travel

Mom's having a good time in Los Angeles (or as The Custard likes to call it, Smogville) this weekend, visiting Thomas and generally cleaning up his act, well, his apartment anyway. She's a dangerous thing in a Target.

watch out California, here comes Mom

Mom's leaving the tranquility of Door County for the bright lights (and freeways) of Los Angeles this week to visit Thomas. Wonder what those two will get up to?

where's Kevin Bacon in all this?

Bjorn, a retired chief of police from Norway, currently working part-time for a publishing company specializing in true crime stories, has a brother whose son is attending university, studying music, in Lincoln, Nebraska, where my father attended college not too far from his own home town of Edgar, Nebraska. Bjorn's favorite true crime story of the evening involved a Danish airstewardess who was murdered and then dismembered in a wood chipper by her American husband, much the same as the victim in the movie Fargo from the Coen brothers, originally from Minnesota, my home state's northwesterly neighbor, and home of the camp where I first learned French. Bjorn's best friend's wife is an artist, a painter. Bjorn's friend looks just like my father, though my dad never sported quite that elegant a moustache. My father's side of the family is Danish (hence Mikkelsen and not Mickelson, which would make us Swedish, possibly German or just poor spellers). Bjorn, here on vacation every August for the past four years, works with a Danish man who has also brought his family on vacation here in Antibes this week. Bjorn and his wife spent a three week vacation in the States, visiting places such as Chicago, Los Angeles, and of course, Fargo, where they were greeted like family when every third person they met shared their last name. They also went to....Portland.

Did I mention Bjorn and his wife bought one of my paintings last night?

history down the street

Today is the 60th anniversary of the liberation of Antibes. We caught the reinactment parade after Bert alerted it to us this rainy morning---"It will bring a tear to your eye." Spirit of history aside, I think he was referring to the vintage motorcycles.

Bert's perch

with the boat out in the harbor, Bert's been crashing here. On the balcony to be exact. Ruby loves it. She also digs the long 7am walks. Now she's gonna be all spoiled.

quite a feat

I didn't think it was humanly, nor, mathematically possible for Mom and I to spend more time together. But, this past week in Italy, we did. And no one is dead. I've gained a post-skirmish-guilt handbag (the best kind), but no one is dead. Success!

Bert had to take the boat out into the harbor the day we left and has had it there since; all the berths in Port Vaubon are taken for the month of August. So, it's a row in and out for Bert each day, and sleeping on the balcony here at night. Remember sleeping porches? In this heat and humidity, it would be a nice thing, Bert's the lucky one tonight.

Baby Booty

We managed to keep it a surprise, just barely! The shower was a big hit today, the baby is sussed for clothing and more practical goodies (bath supplies, carrier, bibs and onesies, blankets, etc) for at least the first year. There were a few confusing moments: Ruby thought the Sophie giraffe squeak toy (a French childhood classic) might be for her, Peg thought the hat I crocheted might be for herself (see third photo---what a peanut of a head!), and just how does that baby carrier go on? (Maria, seasoned baby-pro, did the honors). The card from the Door County gang (and the phone calls!) were tear-makers, well done! Mom's knitted receiving blanket, the first completed knitting project in who knows how long, turned out gorgeous. With three blankets, a number of sweaters and countless knit underthings, the kid should survive London's winters in blessed comfort. And come spring time, that fancy-schmancy, frilly French number Aunt Peg picked out will be darling. Little Peg's only question, frequently repeated: "Will it be this big when it's born? Or this big? It won't be THIS big will it?"

I never knew how scary size 12-month clothing can be to the uninitiated.

Miss Peg and Company in town

bottom's up (almost)

We took the train over to Menton to visit Aunt Peg and Uncle Natale on Sunday. Bert sailed over, or so he intended. As he said last night: "An ill-advised trip."

He never made it to Menton. Forced to anchor in a small harbor only five miles down the road from his destination, he waited out the big seas. "Meringue waves" he called them. While Bert was being tossed like a salad, we enjoyed a great big lunch and alot of family yak-yak-yak on the terrace.

Natale was very concerned about Bert's well-being----"Does he have food on the boat?" (pained expression---the horror of being without a proper meal!). No worries, there's always soup and crackers. Bert's tough.

He made it back to Antibes safe and sound, though a little ruffled. I love his description of fighting bigger and bigger waves in little Tishie Mae: "The Incredible Shrinking Boat".

vicarious shopping....

with my sister shopping for baby supplies and furniture, i can't help but add my two cents worth and enjoy spending some time online researching the latest baby goods...my favorite, the highchair that isn't a highchair from Stokke, a company in Norway that also makes the coolest crib and a kickass stroller....and then there's Lindam's pretty, no-tools puzzle-style crib and other clever things.....modernseed's hip modern baby accessories and toddler furniture....the classic BabyBjorn.....a cozy sheepskin (i miss curling my toes in mine!).....Marimekko is still making bright fantastic textiles and accessories for kids...and this is what i call a dollhouse!

is it wrong to want a baby for all the cool stuff?? ha ha ha

can't keep up with it all

first camera phones, now mobile blogging (here's Tom's)....pretty soon we'll all have hat-coptors like Inspector Gadget....

it's starting to make me feel old, not being able to keep up with the technology. there was no doubt i was feeling my age the other day when i found a group of loitering french teenagers intimidating---i think i may even have said "Packs of teenagers are scary". now, i know i thought the same thing when i actually was one myself, but still.....

Welcome!

Baby Mikkelsen-Faulkner 14 weeks, 6 days

my sister Peg is pregnant! she's due November 20th---bets are on that the baby will be born on my brother's birthday, November 27th. this is really, really happy news. Peg and Ryan are moving soon to a more hospitable London neighborhood, she's got a great new job and now the baby is coming! "Grandma", despite protestations of being too young, is thrilled to bits and searching for those all important knitting supplies..i see lots and lots of booties on the horizon...

i'm going to be an Auntie! Auntie Kate, the Coolest Auntie on the Planet...

Welcome Back Captaine Pat!

in the Comune Libre du Safranier neighborhood on our walk yesterday

Mom's back! and she got so tan and skinny! nothing like the "Sailboat Diet"...Bert is bringing the boat back from Italy, Mom took the train....and she may take it back again to Italy, she fell in love with both the coast and Tuscany....

back in the day

Mom bellydancing in Door County, action series, the white-fro years
(the "pat" labels were my dad's doing--i'm not the only one with a label-maker problem.)

my brother Thomas asked me for photos of Mom in her bellydancing years...considering the content (addicting!) of his workplace's blog i'm a tad concerned.....mom, forgive me.

update: i can't believe Tom remembers the Pyramid. a good supper club never dies.

Tishie Mae update

Bert in his lounge chair

Mom called today---caught me napping---she and Bert have been in Genoa for a few days, waylaid by weather but happy to have a big new city to explore--they've spent time in museums and churches and a few cozy nights in a hotel. the weather has been an issue---storms have been battering the coast all along their course (and here as well---four out of five days overcast and rainy, unpredictable winds). they even came through a hail storm out at sea intact! the boat envy seems to be worsening with each experience like that---Tishie Mae has a rather open, unprotected cockpit that takes all the pleasure out of pleasure boating when you're caught out in bad weather.

she'll be calling again next week, i'll keep you posted as they progress, albeit slowly, down the coast of Italy.

note: they've only got disposable waterproof cameras onboard, so no instant picture uploads to offer i'm afraid. it took some doing to convince mom that indeed the salt water would ruin the digital camera in just a few days (and how would she download/upload them until they returned anyway? that will have to wait until the Big Boat materializes--complete with satelite internet). what they really need is one of these badboys.

where in the world is Tishie Mae?

i'm not the only one that was thrown by mom's announcement that she and Bert (aboard Tishie Mae) were in "Andorra"...i even asked her to spell it for me, that's what she gave me i swear. i KNOW they were in a small harbor town on the Italian coast just across the border...i wonder does she know that "Andorra" is an inland principality, near Spain?

update: i found it! it's Andora! one "R"! voila, je l'ai trouve!

Tishie Mae update

mom called tonight---she and Bert are in Andorra, a town in Italy just 50 miles away--they've had to stay there a few days to repair a problem with the rudder, but already mom is love with Italy--a few quotes:

"The woman are fat!!" "They've got boobs and hips!"
"The kids make noise and the moms yell at them to shut up!" (frenchie kids are eerily well behaved and silent.)
"There's alot to be said for smiles!" (frenchies are notoriously straight-faced.)

i think my prediction was correct--fairly soon she'll be moving to Italy. for now, they are happy to be heading further down the coast, rudder repaired, tomorrow morning.

Bon Voyage!

Mom and Bert depart after months of preparation and a week of waiting out the weather

they're off! Mom and Uncle Bert left this morning for the big adventure down the Italian coast. Tishie Mae will be put to the test, as will the limits of siblinghood i'm certain. they will both be missed--what will i do without mom's artistic critiques? and those witty Bert-isms? i'm expecting weekly phone call updates--i shall keep you posted as to their whereabouts and progress.

foot-in-mouth disease

Ryan's been here all of three days and already Mom has managed to tell him that he's fat, he smells funny and he sleeps too much. wee!

gee, wonder where i get my own saying-what-i-think-out-loud fault from?

Bon Anniversaire!

Happy Birthday Uncle Bert!

nothing says spring like sugar-coated marshmallow...

Happy Easter!

can't find any Peeps here, bummer.

stock i wish i'd been able to buy

i'm so jealous. mom's had Krispy Kreme doughnuts in London.

kid-o

yep, that's my brother. we are so proud. seriously.

unique job opportunity

my sister Margaret just sent me this interesting posting from the London branch of Craig's List. think i might qualify? ha ha.

multi-tasking

the GPS-thingy for Tishie Mae arrived on Monday morning---you'd have thought Santa himself delivered it the way Mom danced about like a little girl. it's since been installed and the two of 'em, Mom and Bert, are like little kids with a new toy. i can't even keep up with all this thing does---compass, gps, chart plotting, sounder, speedometer, mileage, ---as Mom so eloquantly puts it; "...it does everything but wipe your butt..." nice.

of course, this little bit of hi-tech gadgetry has only added to their newer, bigger, better boat fervor. the computer is occupied most nights with searches for the perfect new boat for that round the world sail.

we are so not getting an inheritance.

little prefab on the prairie

i wreally wreally love this weeHouse. modern, simple, arranged and fitted out to your liking by them or you, then or later. stackable like shoeboxes with endless arrangements---and all designed with STANDARD (ie: less expensive, readily available) PARTS. a studio version, built in-factory and trucked complete to your site for $45k, a two bedroom version for only $65K!

now that is the way to build a house. and these guys are in Minnesota!

i am having visions of a cluster of three studio/one bedroom 'pods'--"The Siblings"--one for each of us, on some beachfront or in the Big Woods. don't worry, i've started a file. now, where did i put my label maker......

whenwillitgethere.com

mom's discovered the joy of package tracking via the internet. she's waiting for a GPS-thingy for the boat. amazing how quickly she masters technologies when it involves shopping.

pride and prejudice

poor Mom, she's so proud but she can't go around saying too much, can she?
-"Guess what, my son, my pride and joy has the greatest new big important job in Hollywood where he helped produce a film that's on tv this week!"
-"Really?! What's it called?"
-"Porno Valley".
his company is also working on a documentary about the original in porn movies, Deep Throat. imagine her asking someone to tape THAT for her!

exploser!

Bert blew up another vacuum cleaner this week. that's right--another. this is at least number two, the cause of the first vacuum incindiary incident remains unknown but the memory of the burning canister is still fresh in some minds. he claims this incident, like the previous, was entirely unintentional and the result of a freak accident while using the doomed vacuum aboard sailing yacht Tishie Mae. the vacuum succumbed after "complete submersion in salt water leading to motor failure and eventual complete system shut down", evident in the smoke and flames. Bert was quoted as saying: "It was quite a fireball".

Bert in his natural habitat

poor Maman, literally.

Mom's purse was stolen last night while she and Bert were eating at DeCito. money, credit cards, French bank card---gone. (and i'm really bumming--she had our only pot of Carmex in there). that's what she gets for going to our local without me. the staff was just as upset as she was, Cute Waiter said he knew they'd be back to pay another time---they're there like clockwork often more than once a week.

the form at the Gendarmerie was in French, German, Italian and English--no trouble really there, they see this kind of thing quite regularly. Bert has a set of housekeys so they were able to get in the house, though he had to add a dark comment before going to bed : "I hope no one comes in and murders us in the night." nice.

i got a call this morning on my cell phone--a message from a Monsieur Bernard who found mom's "petite porte-monnaie" in the lane behind the restaurant where he works in Villeneuve-Loubet. he was so excited when i called him back--thrilled to bits that he was able to reach me, especially when he found out the wallet he found belongs to "Maman". he went on and on about how he had to try to figure out who this unfortunate dame was by sorting through the strange bits in her bag. and then he found my "girl at large" card with an obviously french phone number on it. formidable! and he's even kind enough to come to Antibes tomorrow morning to drop it off though it has to be early, as he says, because he has to have Sunday lunch with his Papa at Maman, "C'est tres important" you know. yes, i know.

p.s. oh, and we did the whole thing in french! i understood every word! proves my theory--when you HAVE to understand and speak another language, you CAN.

done already?

Haut-de-Cagnes

we've been feeling a little house-bound lately, so mom and i decided to spend the afternoon in the medival village of Haut-de-Cagnes (above Cagnes sur Mer), have a little lunch and a wander around in the tiny, charming lanes. lunch was great--the town is dead quiet this time of year, though it wasn't much busier when i was there this past summer (the tourists don't know that much about it and head to nearby and over-run St. Paul instead). i took a few shots for some future work, i'll probably return soon for some sketching--i had done Rue/Haut de Cagnes some time ago from sketches/pics of one of the narrow, moody streets. lunch was great; enough warm sunshine to eat outside with a sliver view of the sea, enjoying a warm slice of apple and pear tart. our wander around was great--though steep--until we inadvertently wandered right out of town! so, we really only killed about three hours and are back in the house again already. oops.

todays Bert-ism

"I'm getting a little drifty in my head".

will work for food

Margaret has a job interview this week, Maria has four strong leads for her new property management work (with some spillover work for me) and i've had two good responses to my work inquiries...things are looking good this week. could there be a 'career' star in our houses or some such hippydippy thing?

i tell you, this poverty diet is working out though...size 12 jeans here i come!

it could be loads worse

winter 1974 and winter 1977 (by which time we'd graduated from cardboard and a bit of string to a proper sled)

i have to remind myself of winters like these when i find it too chilly and grey here this winter...it's all a matter of degrees. no complaints here today! at least it's not minus 20 (F) windchill with six inches of snow on the ground like it is in parts of the American Midwest.

perks

my brother works for the coolest (and kookiest) place...wouldn't it be nice if a large part (or any part) of your job included humor like this?

motoring to Menton

Christmas Day, sunny, in Menton

Mom and Bert sailed (motored) to Menton for lunch with Aunt Peg and Uncle Natale...Ruby and i took the warmer (though slower!) train over.

Bon Fete!

me and my sister, Christmas 1977, Fond du Lac, Wisconsin, wearing our new Sesame Street Big Bird winter stocking caps--one of which came to a disasterous and somewhat violent end a few years later whilst atop my little brother's noggin. bad dog. very bad dog.

no one who lives there ever calls it Chi-town, trust me

to me, Christmas will always be Tea at The Drake, munching Frango Mints til you're sick, window displays down the Magnificent Mile, peeling obscene amounts of potatoes for mom's famous dish-to-pass, staying in Mies Van der Rohe apartment buildings, clothespin angels on the tree, shopping at Water Tower Place (and pretty much ignoring the actual Water Tower), taxi cab rides, lunch at The Athenian Room, new pajamas for Christmas morning photos, visiting with Grandma for a bowl of left-over soup (it's not soup left over, it's soup MADE from left-overs and always delicous), breakfast at Nookies, picking up a few "vintage" finds at the White Elephant resale shop, visiting the penguins and the diving polar bear in Lincoln Park Zoo and trying to keep track of all the family's comings and goings (there are so many of them!)....Christmas to me will always be in Chicago.

c'est fini

i've finally finished the portrait of my brother-in-law and his sister for my sister Margaret (a Christmas gift to her in-laws). i must confess, i'm not crazy about it--working only from photos is not fun, and i'm not a portraitist. i'm taking another weeks course at the art house in La Colle sur Loup in February however--an intensive week focused on portraiture so maybe there's hope. i'm just so much better at drawing naked people.

jello jiggling

news late last night of the earthquake in California yesterday made me a little nervous for members of the clan out that way, but so far everyone i've heard from is fine. Aunt Anna missed feeling the jolt--like most Californians she was in her car at the time. my brother Thomas thought he was getting sick. Affable Dan had a brilliant response to his first earthquake--"I love new experiences!"---that's what i love about that kid, his endless enthusiasm.

retail savant

i've been working on my resume (cv) this month and have come to realize that i've spent far, far too much of my life in retail and it's time NOT to return. how to jazz up the qualifications? after a little research and help from sis, it's looking like i'm actually quite highly qualified in---

Cash Management (making change)
Inventory control (counting how much stuff has been pilfered by staff)
Purchasing ("Ok, that's 2 Big Macs, 1 McFish, three Diet Cokes...")
Research and Development (reading magazines)
Data Archiving (that's a beautiful way of saying Filing)
Customer Relations (not as sexy as it sounds)
Telephone Reception ("Yello. Nope, closed on Sundays. Sorry.")
Marketing (sticking flyers on windshields in the parking lot)
Shipping and Receiving (unpacking boxes)
Staff Supervision (telling other people to unpack boxes)
Scheduling (telling other people when to unpack boxes)
Merchandising and Display (putting stuff from boxes on shelves)
Refuse Management (taking out the trash and empty boxes)

well, lucky me.

mystery meat

Duncan left behind vast quantities of meat in the freezer. now, i'm more of a pasta and salad person at home, preferring to let the professionals handle the subtlities of 'medium' vs. 'medium rare'. but i'm also on a budget, and looking into the cold box i see in my mind that standard-yellow $25 check Grandma Mickey sent me one cold, poverty-stricken student-era Christmas--on the memo line: "buy meat". the guilt is overwhelming--i can't let all this cello-wrapped, portion-divided frozen meat go to waste. so, the adventure begins. recipe: defrost on radiator, shoo dog and cat away from radiator, unwrap, pop in world's-smallest counter top oven and wait to see what comes out! i'm sure that last night's was chicken--very nice with pasta. i'm fairly certain that tonight's was lamb. i think. anyway, it was very nice with salad. tomorrow looks to be...well, we'll see, won't we?

FYI: the radiator de-frost was Duncan's method, highly UN-recommended if you want to avoid death by salmonilla (thanks Maria)--i'm sticking to the safer day-ahead-of-time refrig. method these days.

domesticity

it's happy home-making week for the Mikkelsen Kids--my temporary roomie Duncan went off to his new life and wife in Australia this week leaving the Cannes apt. all to myself (!) and my brother Thomas moved into his own place in LA after more than a few weeks living with a friend-of-the-family (aka: weird stranger). poor kid has not a stick of furniture (how can that be in this family?!?) but he's got a balcony for enjoying the California sunshine. i have sponge-elbow from days and days of serious cleaning, but the results are lovely! though it's a temporary thing, i'm finally feeling like i actually have a homey space of my own. this has been a great year, but i'm getting too old for the living-out-of-a-suitcase thing. i'm too domestic at heart--i need my co-ordinated linens, designer broom and professional toaster. and a coat rack! my kingdom for a coat rack! don't laugh.

miracles do happen

i just got a home made birthday card from The Custard. and a birthday email from The Old Man. and a birthday/Christmas package from The RyDog. i've heard of it, it's sometimes in the movies, i've been told it happens; that the (hetersexual) men in your life do occasionally remember these things, but i don't think i've ever really seen it before in real life. well, wonders never cease!

my favorites!

homemade German Chocolate Birthday Cake from Mom (and a lovely chocolate brown leather handbag, not pictured because it's lost somewhere under the mountain that is our coat tree)! a gooorgeous ring from Miss Maria! a Guide to French Cheeses book from Miss Liz! kisses from Miss Ruby! what more could a girl want?!

i thought it ended with the SAT's

my sister is in the process of being career counseled (by a professional). she took a series of questionaires/tests to help identify what she is naturally geared towards and what her ideal working circumstances might be. the list she received this week of careers she's well-suited for includes: Fish Farmer, Politician, and Hypnotist. huh.

i took one of those types of tests a number of years back (in part to assess my trustworthyness when applying for a job at a bank) and the results said not only should i not have anything to do with the visual arts but also that my visual abilities were so bad i should have my eyes checked. huh.

Thanksgiving shindig

sweet potatoes...gone.

sunset sailing

what am i thankful for this Thanksgiving weekend? one word: DRAMAMINE.

Happy Birthday Thomas!

lots of love to my not-so-little-anymore brother Thomas!

Happy Tuber Day

Mom, preparing twin turkeys, Thanksgiving circa 1980

Thanksgiving--the national American celebration of the insulating properties of Turkey ,Tubers, Butter and Brown Sugar when consumed in combination and quantity. ah, my favorite holiday. our festivities will be taking place on Sunday rather than the usual Thursday because my sister Margaret and her hubby Ryan are flying down from London on Saturday.

a few amusing Thanksgiving Day memories:

how to know when the Butterball is done? Dad's beeper goes off, just at the right moment. every year, without fail. damn heart attacks and teenagers on motorbikes.

appropriate holiday attire: one year, mid-'80's, my then 9 or 10 year old sister Margaret, bless her heart, attended Thanksgiving day dinner at a friend of the family's house dressed, head to toe, as a pilgrim.

teenager, making first Pumpkin Pie for family Thanksgiving meal: i hated pumpkin pie then (love it now) so i never took notice of exactly how it's done. i made a pie alright. bringing it to the table: "Didn't you make a PUMPKIN pie?" "Yes, just like you asked me to..there it is." "Um, it looks like a CHERRY or MINCEMEAT pie." "What are you talking about? It's pumpkin!" i know now that PUMPKIN pie is NOT supposed to have a crust ON TOP.

first Thanksgiving meal with the (ex)in-laws; the brother-in-law had just imported a new wife from Japan. we had SUSHI. for THANKSGIVING. wrong, just wrong.

making Thanksgiving feast for lonely-hearts friends when not able to get back home; asked everyone to drop off a contribution a few days before or a finished item the day of. so-and-so bring potatoes, so-and-so make a pie, etc. Brock's famous contribution? "Oh, I have a turkey, a bonus from work!" "Are you sure it will be big enough? We have ten people coming". "Oh yeah, no problem". Wednesday night: picking up said turkey. no way to really describe it here, but i think it was actually a two pound pressed-turkey breast. i've seen bigger pigeons.

hosting Thanksgiving dinner in new condo in need of renovation, kitchen entirely useless: made turkey and fixins at boyfriend's house, then carefully wrapped and transported entire meal for six in 1988 Dodge Colt and reheated, as needed, one dish at a time in microwave (the only functioning appliance in kitchen). plyed guests with booze so they wouldn't notice.

spent one Thanksgiving at home of generous friend (with her family in town special for the occasion): shopped for appropriate hostess gift..chose a very nice bottle of port for an after-dinner drink, thinking lots of other guests would bring standard wine. had bottle wisked away at door by unknown uncle, "We don't drink in this house." (um, she who invited me does, i know for a fact!) was shamed before even had coat off. never saw bottle of port again. still think of it fondly from time to time. wonder what it's up to these days?

twister

Mom turned her ankle and fell yesterday. no panic, but her ankle is in sad shape. note: when living in the south of France, where folks (and pharmacies) take their siesta seriously, never injure yourself between noon and 2:30.

funny pharmacy anecdote:
me, in fairly decent french: "Excusez moi Madame, blah blah....I'm looking for something to help my mother, she fell and turned her ankle."
Medicinal Madame: "Is it bad?" "Is it very fat?"
Me: "Um, yes." (i'm thinking that 'fat' means 'swollen' in this usage, yes?)
Medicinal Madame: "Is your mother very old?"
Me: "No, she's just 'so-so' old."

(imagine 'so-so' hand gesture included, it just came out that way, i swear!)

momma got me a brand-new bag

Mom misses me! i didn't see her at all this week, nary a phone call as she pointed out..in an effort to force myself to adjust to Cannes, to get out there and find things to love about it like i did in Antibes. and it was successful..i've been out and about much more this week and am liking this new town more each day. but, moms will be moms (or more accurately, my mom will never pass up a chance to visit the casino), so she popped over this afternoon after the afore-mentioned rugby match to spend the afternoon with me and Liz. a great lunch (it was warm and sunny enough to eat outside!), some shopping, a quick stop at the slots, and a coffee chat with Duncan 'round the kitchen table. i scored a new purse for my growing continental collection as an early birthday gift and we discovered Cannes' answer to the 'hardware-kitchensink-everything-you-didn't-know-you-needed' store just around the corner.

oh, and we payed through the nose (Monsieur Fluff 'n' Fold is cute, but 9 euros?!) to have Duncan's sheets washed and dried at the laundrette (no machine in the apt.) after Miss Ruby had an 'accident' last night. i think she was trying to tell me and Liz that she wasn't happy about being left out of girls night.

and i thought surviving the teenagers years with mom was tough

Miss Liz and i are heading out on the town tonight in Cannes..and mom's piece of advice? "Don't wear underwear!". um, right-o.

but what if in your heart, your knickers are in California anyway? sigh.

go west young man (and chick)

my brother's blog entries have slowed since his move to Hollywood and the big new important job at WoW, but he still has a zinger entry now and again. a Kramer-esque roomie with a new meat slicer? i'm concerned for the kid's safety!

what is it with California? Aunt Anna a few years back went off to San Francisco, then Affable Dan left Savannah for Hollywood, then Thomas deserted Chicago for Hollywood as well, now Miss Kristan leaves Las Vegas behind for the fiance in LA, and of course The Ex, The Boy, The Custard is in LA as well. and Miss Dawn's been wanting to get out there for ages. should we just all hire a bus?

bambino

i have another cousin (technically a 2nd or 3rd cousin, i'm not sure?)!

My cousin Mike Mertz and his wife Paola had a baby boy at 8am today. 7lbs, 7oz. and reportedly very, very long..but no measurement yet, Aunt Maria writes that perhaps they needed to run and find a second tape measure. (for those not in the know, Cousin Mike and his brother TJ are spectacularly blessed in the height department). so, welcome cousin Gregorio Giovani Mertz (Giani for short). lots of love and congratulations to the Mertz's!

Hollywood, here he comes

my brother Thomas leaves for LA today! lots of luck! and love.

wait, isn't LA on fire? saw a glimpse of something on the news last night. hmm..not good, have more and more friends out there. Affable Dan, Balls, and Engaged Kristan, seems to be more each day. is there something about LA i don't know? or is it just the adage..tilt up the States and all the nuts roll to the west?

awww

mom called me tonight. i think she misses me. maybe almost as much as she does the dog.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!

from buffante babe to boating broad abroad. love, love, love you.

Congratulations Kid-o!

Thomas got the job with World of Wonder productions! woo-hoo! he's off to Hollywood!

a tie for travel-from-hell stories

Erin's "Flying Chicago to Nice via Brussels (who goes thru Brussels??) Alone with Two Year Old Toddler and The Giant Misplaced Jogging Stroller" story is getting a run for its money from Thomas' "40 Hours Each Way to LA via Amtrak" saga. read about it and have a good laugh here.

how did Mom manage with the three of us?

thanks to Aunt Maria--i received the cd-rom of family photos collected for the McMullen family reunion (this past July) and found this old (new to me) one on it...not much changes really, huh?

we had a good relaxed day today, free of train and bus rides. Miss Ruby and Sam had a rousing play session on the bit of lawn over by the port...games of 1,2,3 GO!, almost-Fetch and 'No, don't eat that off the ground!" (applies to both parties). it gave them both a chance to burn off some of that two-year-old energy. little Sam is such a sweet natured kid..very well behaved for a two year old..but man, kids are exhausting! i don't know how Erin does it!

that cliche bell went off for me last year, turning thirty and all, but the sound may be fading this week...

cool cats in california

my brother Thomas, or the Tomster, is in LA today, Hollywood specifically. and i'm certain he's as sick of hearing about Arnold as we are. (keep in mind we live half way round the world from that damn recall vote and it's still on the tv endlessly). but if Affable Dan is anything like i remember, they aren't paying too much attention to that kind of stuff anyway...my bet is they are concocting Running Man Martinis or Tangeray Terminators. those kids, too cool for my boots.

speaking of California, just got word that The Balls will be in attendance at Angel and Dan's (the Other Dan) wedding in Savannah..woo hoo! good times to come! now that i live in Cannes, am i too posh for Pinkie Master's? :)

strangers we have known

my brother Thomas (this is my favorite picture of us together, second only to the one where all three Mikkelsen siblings have the same haircut --and are not toddlers at the time) heads out to California via Amtrak train this weekend for a job interview in Los Angeles. he's going to be staying with my ever cheerful friend Dan...whom he has never met before. i have no worries though because Dan, a young hipster himself, is as hospitable and charming as anyone i know. and Thomas is a gracious guest. they should get on like a house on fire. and if it does go 'pear shaped' (what exactly does that mean anyway? being pear shaped myself, i can't help but be a little bent out of shape over that phrase), it's only two nights, so no worries.

scentiment

my sister, bless her, slept with her husbands t-shirt last night because it smells like him. awww...ack! isn't there a code of conduct when Married People spend time with Chronicly Single people?!