Saturday, August 30, 2008

My Ego.......Rest in Peace?

I like cookies. You like cookies. We all like cookies. I have some *fantasmic* cookie recipes up for trade at The Great Minivan Trade-up. This is a funny little project started by Dad of Divas. He started with a camera and traded it up for something else from someone on the internet. He keeps trading the current item for a different item hoping to eventually trade all the way up to a minivan.

The last trade made was to me. It was a framed photo art picture valued at $120.00. For the picture I offered in trade some killer (and easy to make) coveted cookie recipes. The kind that look real impressive, but are waaay easy to make and even easier to eat. This is just in time for the holiday baking season, can you bring a dessert, time of year.

I even sweeten the deal by saying that I will offer to meet the wonderful person who trades something for the recipes, and buy them $50 in drinks anywhere in the Chicagoland area, the next time they are in the area. Top it off with a parting gift of an 8x10 autographed picture of yours truly(just for an extra laugh).

Now the next step is for someone who would like this fantabulous package to contact dadofdivas@gmail.com and offer him something in exchange. What can you trade you ask? Anything! Go through the attic, the garage, the storage space, find something that you would be willing to part with. A lamp, a piece of furniture, Jack Benny's eye glasses. You could offer a service, frequent flier miles, your imagination is the limit(just keep it legal people).

And in doing this, you will also be doing the good deed of saving my ego. This offer has been out there, with me flapping in the wind, for about a week now, without any solid bites. For all the nitty gritty details click here. And save me from crying in my beer. Someday, when I'm famous, you may just want that pic!

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Thursday, August 28, 2008

Weaselmomma For President!

My Fellow Americans, this week the Democrats are holding their National Convention. Next week it's the Republican's turn. I don't know about you, but none of the candidates are setting my heart on fire. So I humbly accept the nomination of the Weasel Party to be the party choice for the next President of these United States.

Old Glory

My Platform, my view on where I would take this country is as follows:

Say goodbye to the Death Tax forever. The Government taxes the heck out of us while we are alive, they shouldn't be allowed to double tax us once we are on the wrong side of the grass. Unless you leave something to the IRS in your will, they don't get squat!

All members of Congress and elected officials will be required to wear a shock bracelet. Every time they lie, tell a half truth, or spin the truth they will get an electric shock. The larger the lie, the higher the voltage.

I do not promise a chicken in every pot, but I do promise a martini in every hand. Every Friday I will open the White House lawn for Happy Hour. No matter what your stresses in life, taking some time to chill and regroup can only help.

I vow not to soil the carpeting in the Oval Office(At least not involving an intern.)

I will sign an executive order that will take away from Congress the power to pass their own pay raises. The people will be able to vote on the salary increases/decreases of elected officials.

I promise to secure the borders. This is just plain old common sense. This is a National Security priority. We need to know who is coming in, from where, why and for how long. We can debate later about what to do with the illegals who are already here.

I will hire Jack Bauer to head up the NSA, and Jack Ryan to Head the CIA.
Jack Bauer

I will build up our military back to cold war numbers and standards. The best offense is a good defense. Also, I will ensure that members of our military and their families have a decent and comfortable standard of living.

Speak softly and carry a big stick will be my foreign policy approach. If I wanted to be an EU weenie, I would move there.
Teddy Roosevelt

I would make English our official(and only) national language. If you want citizenship, you must learn to speak it. You have 5 years to learn enough English to pass a cursory test. By then you should have at least enough understanding and skills to be able to say "do you want fries with that?", or better.

I would only appoint well qualified jurists to the Supreme Court. Jurists who can actually read the Constitution, understand what it says, and decide if our laws are in accordance with it. As opposed to those who, while acid tripping, find imaginary rights that are not actually in the constitution. (i.e., there is no 'right to privacy within the document. There is an expectation of privacy. 'Right' and 'expectation' are not synonyms.) Amendments to the constitution are the business of the legislative branch of government, not the judicial.
Trippin'


Vote for me and I will do my absolute best to make the government less intrusive in your pursuit of life, liberty and happiness. I will run an administration that will let you take charge of and be responsible for your own life and decisions. A government as described in the Constitution to be here for your national defense and security.

I humbly nominate NukeDad to be my Vice-Presidential running mate.

As a bonus, you will also get Mr. Weasel as your First Laddie, and that should make other world leaders very envious(he's got better legs than any of their spouses). Instead of Presidential pets like dogs or cats, we will bring hamsters, toads and Weasels into the White House.

Coors light will be the only beer served at State dinners. Makers Mark will be the official bourbon served. American made is the only way to go in my administration.

If you feel the urge to vote for me, than instead of flat out donating to my campaign, I urge you to bid on me in the Great Minivan Trade-Up.

God Bless you and God Bless America!

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Sunday, August 24, 2008

Saying Goodbye To Summer

Today is the saddest day of the year here in Weaselville, for tomorrow is the first day of school for the elementary age Weasels(and the first full day of school for Eldest Weasel). It is with great sadness that we say goodbye to our friend, summer vacation, until June 2009.

We have an awful lot to do today. We need to lay out the uniforms and shoes et. al., pack the backpacks, distribute supplies and make sure everyone is bathed. We also have a special mass today with the Bishop. He is coming to do the official dedication of this brand new school, that will be officially open for business tomorrow. After the dedication there will be slight joy for the Weasels in the form of the parish picnic. Games, snacks and desserts should help them enjoy their last hours of freedom before the shackles of school are once again thrust around their ankles.

We do cherish our lazy days of summer around here, that are anything but lazy. There are a lot of things we never got around to doing, but we also managed to squeeze in loads of fun. It's hard to believe how fast the time goes. We will continue to take advantage of the summer weather and activities in the few hours of sunlight left after homework is complete.

The Weasels are in a complete state of depression over their impending imprisonment. They are all good students, who genetically inherited the "I hate school" gene from their mother. They believe that school is just another way for "the Man to keep them down", and that homework is designed to completely suck all of the hope and joy out of their lives. Recess is the only part of school that allows them to maintain their sanity and refrain from complete despair.

The first few weeks will be fresh and new, so somewhat tolerable and interesting for them. After that it becomes a downhill slope of darkness until the light at the end of the tunnel, Christmas break, is in sight. With the entrance of January, smiles once again fade away until they feel like they are circling the bowl by March. April brings a glimmer of hope, offering longer days and slightly better temperatures, which can only mean one thing. Summer will soon be here. But at the same time feeling like a marathon runner at around mile 20, forcing one foot in front of the other with sheer willpower of reaching the finish line and being able to reclaim their lives for themselves.

About May they will begin to dream about not being pulled by the ankles out of bed and force fed breakfast, and no more marching gulag style to the car before they wipe the sleep from their eyes. AHHHHH, better than sugarplums dancing. They know that soon they will be living the Phineas and Ferb lifestyle once again. It's the only thing that keeps them pushing on.

Youngest Weasel too will join the ranks of school goers this year. She, opposite of siblings, is happy and excited. She wants to be a 'big kid'. She wants a teacher of her own. She wants to learn to read and have homework and a back pack and a lunch box. The rest of the Weasels just shake their heads in pity for her. Little does she know the horrors of the road she is about to embark on. Sweet naive youngest Weasel, they only wish they could save her from this awful fate, like a mother who encourages her daughter not to begin shaving her legs just yet because once you start you have to always continue. Or the Daughter who prays for puberty to start, who's mother silently hopes for her daughter to avoid that cross as long as possible, for she will soon enough have to deal with it for the next 4 decades.

So with the Weasels feeling as helpless as the French people on the day before the occupation, they will wave their white flags and go along with the program. But one day, I fear all too soon, they will form a resistance movement. I can already picture them strategically planning which bridges to take out and how to sabotage the car.

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Friday, August 22, 2008

I Am a Commodity!

Want me? You can have me. For a price.

I have become completely caught up in this whole minivan trade-up thing.
And I want you all to follow suit.

I am now being traded like Microsoft! I have acquired a piece of photo art in exchange for drinks with me and an invaluable supply of me best cookie recipes(trust me, their like butter....to die for). All totaled, complete with signed and autographed picture of me, a value of $250.00.

Now it's your turn to trade something in exchange for this wonderful prize package chuck full of lovely buttery memory goodness.

Click the links to get the full details of me pimping myself out and giving away some of the best secret recipes(trust me they are crack!) that I hold dear in hopes of turning them into a minivan.

So go, get out there, and bid for the Weaselmomma! I'm worth it!

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My First Meme

So I was tagged with this Meme on August 3rd, but didn't know it until yesterday. That was probably because on August 2nd, I was doing this. So on August 3rd, we'll just say I was 'offline'.

Anyway, this is the 7 things Meme. Where you supposedly get to know me better through 7 trivial facts about myself. So here goes:

1. I HATE mayonnaise. It makes me gag just thinking about it too much. I will not eat anything that mayonnaise has touched. I will not put it on your sandwich, You have to do that yourself. As a matter of fact, I'm not a fan of condiments in general. No mustard or relish or ketchup or miracle whip(same as mayo to me). But am completely offended by mayo.

2. I will not eat 'swimmy fish', as I call them. I like lots of different shell fish, but not anything that swims. Yes, the bottom feeding crustacians are more appealing to me. I've tried lots of different kinds, prepared in a variety of ways and hate them all.

3. My kids range in age from Pre-school to High School. It's a weird world that I live in. There is a 10 year span between the oldest and the youngest.

4. I am a city girl who married a farm boy and we live in a suburban area. As a said, It's a weird world that I live in.

5. I have lived in Philadelphia, 2 cities West Virginia, Cleveland and Illinois.

6. I am an orphan. I didn't grow up that way, but am one now. So if a nice, rich older couple is looking to adopt a grown woman with instant son-in-law and grand kids to brag about, please contact me.

7. And last but not least, Mr. Weasel insisted that I add this tidbit, I have broken a man's arm once when he tried to mug me on the subway. That's right all 5'4" 105 lbs of me(at the time anyway) not only managed to keep my bag, but made sure this guy wouldn't be 'working' for a while too.


Now I am supposed to tag 7 people with this, but I'm not. Instead, I want you to leave 7 quick tidbits about yourself in the comments. Getting to know you, getting to know all about you.......

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Thursday, August 21, 2008

Hot Wheels

I love a good scam scheme, especially if it works. I have recently stumbled upon one that I am totally rooting for. Dad of Divas has started a project called "The Great Minivan Trade Up". In this venture, he is trying to magically turn a camera, abra cadabra, into a minivan. "How could he possibly do that without the help of David Copperfield Weaselmomma?" you ask.

Well actually, he doesn't need the magic of Weaselmomma, but I am going to follow this with great interest and laughter. Because if it actually works, this guy is a certified genius and my new hero(I am all about maximum results with minimum effort. Just read this blog if you don't believe me. Hoping for max results, but totally using min effort.). His plan is to trade a camera for something else. Trade that something else for another something else, and continue till he trades up to a minivan. If this works for him, I will try it and I should be living in a mansion by the time the kids move out(or a cardboard box depending on how much I drink while trading).

So check him out and cheer him on, entertaining yourself the whole time if this thing actually takes off. And if you decide to BUY a minivan as opposed to using Jedi mind tricks, refer to this guide first, and after the purchase you should consult here.

While we I am talking about minivans I will share with you the virtues of driving one. As I have been discussing them with Bad Momma who is currently in the market for the HAWT Mobile so that she can move to Nebraska (seriously read this post, you'll thank me). Minivans are the coolest wheels in town and I'm not just saying that because I have been forced to drive one for 11 years instead of the blue Mustang 5.0 convertible of my dreams I choose to drive one. Let's face it, what could be hotter than a Mom of 6 tooling around the grocery store or school parking lot with 6 cylinders of pure sexy. Add the car seats for the little ones and a few bags of sports gear in the back(or hiding in stow-n-go seats) and it's move over Angelina Jolie, there is something HOTTER in town. The young guys go out of their hormonal little minds at the sight of it. A minivan turns any 'Mom' into an instant MILF. It's the wheels I tell ya.

Add some extras like automatic doors and rear hatch, heated seats and "Wash Me" written with a smart aleck kids finger in the rear window and you are smokin'. Honestly guys, admit it, after such a sight you need to go home and take a cold shower. Throw in a stroller and some grocery bags and you could spontaneously combust.

So now if any of you fellas see me cruising, cartoons rolling in the backseat, enjoy the view. But know that like Cindy Crawford, it's a pipe dream and I am out of arms reach. Especially with reverse evolution and all. But a boy can dream.

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Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Aging or Reverse Evolution?

I don't often like to admit to this, but I am a female. I often pride myself on not being a 'girly girl'. However, I do sport some girly tendencies. I love to treat myself to the occasional manicure and pedicure. I wax my eyebrows and color the gray out of my hair. All of these things are done in vanity. I want to look as young, vibrant, and hot as I did in college. So even though I'm not afraid to get dirty, enjoy both playing and watching sports and consider myself laid back, I still am a girl.

I claim that vanity and ego are not important to me, but I am only lying to myself. And the older I get, the more these things matter to me. This makes sense. When you take these things for granted, you don't think that they are important, but take them away and whooaaaaaaa, Houston, we have a problem. A perfect example of this: I like beer, I drink beer, I am very casual about beer. When the fridge is out of beer the house goes into a state of emergency until the Governor steps in and the situation can be rectified.

Anyway, back to vanity. For a while now, I tend to loose a lot of hair in the shower. No big deal. The longer your hair is the more you notice it. As long as they grow back there are no worries. Lately however, I am losing an alarming amount of hair as I wash it. The other day I am in the shower and just finished conditioning when I happen to look down and start screaming (like a girl) because I thought one of the pet hamsters escaped it's cage and found it's way into the shower. Nope, no rodents on the loose, just a wet clump the size of a small animal of my no longer attached to my scalp hair.

Another huge hit to my ego came when I am outside playing with the kids in the sun when hubby came home from work. He parks in the driveway and comes over for greetings and a quick update on the day. He plants a kiss and starts looking at me funny. "What is it?" I ask. Half laughing to himself, knowing to tread carefully, he rubs his thumb over my upper lip and says "Are you growing a mustache?". UGH. "No, that's just normal hair that covers your whole body. It's blond and has always been there." He chuckles some more under his breath and states how he never noticed before in the 15 years we have been married.

To add insult to injury, on my last little outing to the spa for my nails, tootsies and eyebrows all is going well until while getting my pedicure the well trained Cambodian technician asks me if I want her to tweeze the hairs on my toes. Ugh. When we head into the waxing room to do my eyebrows she asks me "you lip too?". Damn, Hubby was right.

Add to this more acne and acne scars than when I was a teenager and you get the whole picture.

So as I am loosing the hair on my head, thinning noticeably by the day, I am growing hair on my face and my feet.

So when you saw the news reports last week that a real Sasquatch had been spotted it was all just a big mistake. It was actually just me taking a walk through the woods.

Pretty soon, I will just have to start dressing up as the unknown comic every time I leave the house.

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Sunday, August 17, 2008

IDK, My BFF Ivana.

When Middle Weasel was in Pre-k, I had a wonderful relationship with her teacher who had just taught my son and was a friend. The teacher was excited to have another Weasel in her class and we would communicate daily when I would drop off/pick up Middle Weasel from the classroom.

A few weeks into the school year a new student came into the class. Her name was Ivana and she looked like a little porcelain doll. She was quiet and cute and the youngest child in the class having a late spring birthday. Middle Weasel was the oldest child in the class, having a fall birthday.

When I went to pick up from school the teacher was in stitches. She told me all about how Middle Weasel had taken Ivana under her wing and was helping her with scissors and snack time and that the two seemed to be glued together. I thought this was cute and sweet, but didn't understand what was funny. So I just smiled and nodded.

Everyday when I came for pick up, this same scenario transpired. I really didn't get what she was laughing about. But I thought it wonderful that Middle Weasel had a best friend. I made a mental note to try and meet Ivana's parents so that the girls may get a chance to play outside of school at some point.

The teacher is laughing harder by the day. Telling me tales of how Middle Weasel takes Ivana by the hand and leads her to where she needs to be. And how Ivana always sits next to Middle Weasel, who helps her with everything. This is sweet and cute, but I don't get what is so hysterically funny.

After a couple of weeks I decide to show up a few minutes early for pick up to observe. I watch in the class and the two girls are very cute together and Middle Weasel is being very helpful. She's making me proud and I want her to have her new BFF over sometime for a play date, but I haven't met her parents yet. This day after class while the teacher is recounting stories she says "If Ivana keeps hanging with Middle Weasel she'll be speaking English in no time at all". Now I start laughing and explain that I had no idea that Ivana didn't speak a word of English. Middle Weasel never even mentioned this, the teacher thought I already knew. Now the teacher is laughing at me too and said 'I was wondering why you were looking at me like that.'

Ivana's parents had just moved here and put her in this class so that she would learn English my immersion. Their friendship flourished and English came to Ivana quickly. Ivana's parents were also very nice and taking English classes of their own. The girls often played together for a few years until we moved away.

Language was no barrier to this frienship. They got along and could communicate without words. Middle Weasel never had realized that Ivana didn't speak English and Ivana didn't realize that Middle Weasel didn't speak Spanish. Kids just speak the universal language of "what's the best way to drive our parents crazy?".

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Wednesday, August 13, 2008

A Good Reason To Call A Plumber

I thought you'd like a laugh at someone else's expense. Here's a true story told a few years back by a first responder friend of mine.

A man and his wife are having a spat at home. He hasn't fixed the leak under the kitchen sink yet and she's nagging him half to death about it. As they bicker, he decides to take a shower. This does not deter her in the least. She follows him into the bathroom and continues her rant while he lathers.

Finally, tired of hearing about it and wanting to throw a tissy fit of his own, he jumps out of the shower soaking wet. He does not bother to towel off or dress and heads to the kitchen sink, flings the cabinets open underneath it and starts emptying the contents by tossing them around the kitchen while ranting "you want the *$#@!@#$ sink fixed, FINE, I'll fix the @!#* sink right *&$%#$* NOW!".

He proceeds to crawl under the sink, she continues "wah wah wah wah wah wah" while he is on his hands and knees. At this point their pet cat takes notice and manages to spot what it thinks looks like some fun new cat toys. Said cat pounces full claws on toward the toys. Man screams, jumps up banging his head under the sink, with profanity oozing from his mouth. Angry and bleeding he retreats from the pipes stands to get paper towels and examine injury when he slips on the wet floor of his creation, clocks his head on the kitchen table and knocks himself out.

Wife calls 911, who transport him to the hospital, laughing to themselves all the way. He was treated for concussion and given stitches to his head and his unmentionables before being relaesed.

Now you can go through your day just being grateful you are not this guy.

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Monday, August 11, 2008

What Happens In Vegas.............

I'm back and Vegas is still standing, even if I'm not.

The Wedding was great. The bride was beautiful. The people were fun and the mood festive. And we all have a few good stories for years to come to bring home with us.

Thursday night we ventured out as a group to hit the strip. Seeking some music and drinks we headed from our hotel, The Flamingo, over to Bellagio . Upon entering the "cool" lounge their, we found it was full and were sent away with the distinct impression that we were too old and not quite hip enough to hang out in this joint. But they were kind enough to direct us to "Caramel", the club on the other side of the casino floor that would be much more what we were hoping for anyway. The gentleman working the door at Caramel also sent us away. The grooms brother and the brides brother were both wearing sandals, this is a capital offense in Vegas night clubs, -not cool enough for this place either. Once again we were directed 'just across the way' to a lounge with an 80's cover band and dance floor, perfect. We enter to find that we are the youngest people in here by at least 25 years. The funny part was that we were really enjoying the band and this is where we fit in. We didn't stay for more than an hour. We couldn't at those drink prices. We were off again. This time back across the street to Margaritaville. Great band, younger crowd, more affordable(slightly). Jimmy Buffet has no hang-ups about sandals.

The next morning we all dressed and primped for the wedding. We had to search through the hotel to find the right exit where the Limo was waiting. The super stretch was supposed to be able to accommodate 12, however at 9 people we were sardined in. Our driver should not be working in a service industry. He was most unpleasant and did not seem to enjoy his chosen profession. Not even a smile and congratulations for the bride and groom. However, he did drive just fine.

The wedding went off without a hitch. Well there was one hitch, but that was the point of being there.

On the way back to the hotel the grooms brother decided that it would be a good idea to lean 1/3 of his body out the window and wave at the woman driving next to us, with a state trooper behind us. Just for the record this was not a good idea. We were given a warning in the form of a quick flash of the lights and siren. That would be enough for most people, not for this guy. A few moments later while the Trooper was passing on our left, he blew a kiss at the trooper. Not having much in the way of a sense of humor, the Limo was now pulled over. No ticket issued, but a stern warning about how going to jail would put a crimp in the day.

Luckily, the rest of the day was fun and smooth. We had dinner and cake. Some went off for naps to rest up for the night ahead. I hit the tables for a while and had a blast. Black Jack players are pretty typically a fun nice group. We had some fun and entertaining dealers and a lot of laughter. Later is was back out as a group for more music and dancing.

Saturday was definitely time for some downtime poolside. I was relaxed and feeling great. We were all having fun, watching the water volleyball game when I hit a slick spot on the pool deck. My feet came flying out from under me and I crashed full force onto the concrete flat on my back. I was given a towel an icepack and a Coors Light. I received a nasty headache and blinding pain that ended my day.

I filled out an incident report in the security offices. The take the report in the infamous 'back room'. And that is exactly what it is. A small interrogation room with a table, 2 chairs and a camera. The security officer who took the report had about as much social skill as the Limo driver, polite, but barely.

Sunday was time to head for the airport. Ibuprofen was not cutting it and I was not looking forward to a 4 hour flight in coach. Of course the flight was delayed and overbooked. Of course I am assigned the 'middle seat'. And of course the drink of the guy sitting next to me spills into my lap and I get to sit in Jack and Coke on the rocks for 3 hours.

At 1:30 a.m. I was grateful to be home in my own bed. At 7:30 a.m. I reached for more ibuprofen and am calling the doctor today for an appointment.

So to recap: I got 'backroomed' at the Flamingo and I didn't even get a lousy t-shirt.

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Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Two Words....Vegas Baby!

That's right. This time tomorrow I will be the city that truly never sleeps. I will be there to attend a wedding of a dear friend and her beau. Three lovely nights away from home. Consisting of 11 meals in peace without having to cut up anyone else's food. No one crawling into my bed in the wee hours of the morning, at least uninvited anyway(just kidding, honey). Mr. Weasel will be staying at home with the gang(he's such a good guy).

Thursday night will be our 'girls night out' not quite a bachelorette party, but a chance to have some girl time together that we don't get very often living 2 states away from each other. And we will be meeting up with the fellas later in the evening anyway.

Friday at noon will be the wedding. I know what you are thinking, but there will be no flying Elvi involved. No matter how much I begged. No drive through wedding chapel. And no silly costumes or themes. I know, I know, why bother getting married in Vegas then, right?

They have decided to tie the nuptial knot at Red Rock Canyon. A beautiful mountain lookout in the middle of the desert. It's an absolutely gorgeous nature park right outside of Las Vegas.

In front of an intimate group of family and friends they will exchange vows. And then the party shall begin! I'm not sure of the exact game plan yet, but I trust that it will turn out well. I do not know what the rest of the weekend holds in store, but hey, we're in Vegas, where the sky is the limit. I'm sure I will find some opportunity to hit the tables, lots of good food and free drinks a flowin'.

So I am off to Vegas for what's sure to be a grand old time. You won't here from me until Monday and the less I blog about it, the better time that I had. What happens in Vegas, well.....you know.

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Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Turn Out The Lights, The Party's Over

Well that was a heck of a storm! Here in the open plains we get some doozies, but last night took the cake.

We had some thunderstorms in the morning and then is was hot, humid and cloudy the rest of the day. We all went about normal life with normal weather. I dropped Eldest Weasel off at the movies with her friends and had a ride home set up for her. Mr. Weasel was going out with friends after work, which he rarely does and the rest of us had Chocolate chip pancakes for dinner. All was well. We just sat down for a movie night of our own in the living room when a vicious thunderstorm moved in. I myself enjoy watching a good storm but the younger Weasels, not so much. The rain and wind were whipping spectacularly for about 3 minutes before the power went out.

It was only about 7 p.m., but it made things dark enough to pull out the flashlights and candles. The younger Weasels were upset about the storm, the older Weasels were upset my loss of cable and Internet. So we sat around and told silly jokes and stories while watching the storm through the windows. Middle Weasel had been paranoid about tornadoes since the morning storms. I kept reassuring her that all was fine, this is just a good storm. Meanwhile, as I watch the sky turning evil, I am getting concerned about the the force of the storm and its green hue.

Boy Weasel says as loud as he can "Hey Mom, the sky is green. That means there could be a tornado! " Middle Weasel and Monkey Weasel start freaking out, which has a domino effect on Smallest Weasel. So I do what any good mother would do, I lie to them. "No, that's not green. It's just the cloud cover reflecting of the pond! Don't be silly, everything is fine." I want to take them to the basement but know that would only cause panic (they know that's what you do if a tornado is coming, the same tornado I said wouldn't happen). I hadn't seen any weather reports, so I could only use my best judgment (obviously very poor in quality) and kept them in the living room to keep them calm and tried to make things fun.

We were doing okay, their minds were distracted with word games when the biggest, closest clap of thunder made us all jump out of our seats. The screaming and crying hysterics came on with as much force as the storm. It was another 20 minutes before I could get the house back to normal decibel levels again.

I called Mr. Weasel to let him know the state of things and ask when he could get a train home, but the storm was moving that way and the trains service had stopped. So the poor guy was forced to stay at the bar and drink with some friends who would call to say HI! to me in their feel good state. One guy had taken his moped to work and later to the bar that night and actually tried to go home as the storm hit. He wound up stranded back at the bar too. The poor guys, what an awful place to be stranded during a storm (Insert sarcasm here).

Mr. Weasel called back to tell me to take the kids to the basement and put on the national weather service. "I would if we had power and could watch the T.V.!" I said, but I was thinking "Dufus! Were you not listening when I said the power is out?". "Oh Yeah, well your in a tornado warning right now!". Great, I go to move downstairs and another call comes in from a friend with power still on to let me know the tornado watch is over and moved passed us. Thunderstorms would continue, but the worst was over. I stayed in the living room with the kids, candles and flashlights and waited for Eldest Weasel to return home.

The kids asked about and elderly neighbor and friend who has been in poor health. I told them that she was okay, she had had a family member staying with her and had my cell phone number in case she needed anything. I called her daughter, but couldn't get through and assumed all was fine.

We spent the night without power. Mr. Weasel made it home around midnight and all the Weasels were camped in the living room sleeping.

Come morning, there was still no power. That was unusual for this area. The power company had a recorded message stating that the power in some areas could be out for days and no further details.

I decide to call and check on our neighbor again. Still no answer. Her son in law was already on the way and we met to go over there as I had the key. Her daughter was out of town on business and she had been alone and okay, that is until the power went out on her oxygen machine. She couldn't get to the phone and had been trying to conserve energy by just lying still. That was a smart move. She was in bed when we arrived there and had been without oxygen supply for more than 12 hours, her color was pale and her lips white. I stayed with her while her son in law went to get an emergency oxygen tank locally. She was a lot calmer than I. Within 10 more minutes, by the grace of God, the power came back on. We hooked her back up and immediately her color came back. We made arrangements for an emergency supply to be delivered and made sure her cell phone was within arms reach. I will go back and check on her today.

The reports today are that 2 tornadoes touched down in our area. We were lucky. The only damage we suffered is a cable box that was fried when we lost power. In the future I will take the kids to the basement, even if it means panic to them and I will always check on my friend even if I think she is already cared for.

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Monday, August 4, 2008

Great Way to Spend a Saturday

This past Saturday happened to be the 1st Saturday in August and that can only mean one thing. Mr. Weasel and I attended the 9th annual Colin Boyne charity golf outing For SIDS of Illinois. We don't actually golf, but we always have a great time. In the afternoon there is a luncheon and beer/wine fest under the guise of bunco game for the ladies while the men use golfing as an excuse to practice driving under the influence on a closed course with golf carts.

Hubby dropped me off in time for Bunco. Here I met up with some old friends and made some new ones. It was really a great time. You can't put that much booze, chocolate and women in one room and not have a great time. We all laughed till it hurt and in the end I walked away with the top prize of a gift cetificate for a cut and style at a fru-fru hair salon. Almost everyone stumbled away with some kind of prize. I also walked away with an extra gift basket of "Calgon take me away" bath products and candles for having the most over worked uterus in the room. I knew that would come in handy some day!

Next, it was back downstairs to the bar for a few drinks while the golfers started to trickle in back from the course before dinner and a chance to get a head start on the silent auction and raffle tickets while I wait for Mr. Weasel to join me. Now I have learned through the years that if you stand still for too long at this event you will find yourself volunteering. Usually in the form of pimping raffle tickets around the dining room and bar. Take a woman with a good buzz and throw her into a room of guys who are no pain themselves after a day of golf, throw in raffle tickets and a good cause and you have a winning combo. I don't know how many I sold, but it was a large fistfull and didn't take long.

By the time dinner is over everyone in the room is best friends, it's just that kind of crowd. One woman even gave me her earings right out of her ears afetr I said how cute they were. We all share stories, jokes and rounds while joining in the silent auction wars and occassionally the dancing. At one point a whole crowd of us were out on the deck when the sprinklers turned on full force! That was an absolute hoot and only added to the enjoyment of the evening.

By midnight, Mr. Weasel and I had our arms were full with 5 bottles of wine, 4 wine glasses, a cerificate for a wine tasting party(raffle and silent auction), the aforementioned gift basket and certificate and my shoes that had not been on my feet in hours. It was a fantastic event as usual, and a great time was had by all until the next morning.

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