Little Bird is Here!

So, I was supposed to write a post of St. Nicholas of Tolentino for today's edition of Saturdays with the Saints. This, obviously did not happen because my little sister decided she'd waited long enough and she was going to come, dang it, whether we liked it or not.

This means it's a very good thing I didn't go to St. Augustine today, though, given how long it took, I probably could have made it. Even so, I'm glad I didn't go because I'd have been a mess....well, more than I already was.

Despite saying that I was going to hide out at DQ, I actually did go. No, I did not watch, and no, I did not drink (though God knows I really wanted a whiskey!). What I did do was knit, pace, pray, cook, and clean.

I also got to dress my sister in her first outfit, which wasn't as awkward as I had thought it would be. It's been a long time since I dressed a baby, and I've never dressed a newborn before. I was 12 when P was born, and I think he was 3 or 4 months old before I helped change and dress him.

She was really tiny, Much tinier than I've ever held, being just shy of 6lbs, and so incredibly adorable.

The hat that I made to match her outfit did fit, but because she was nursing, it kept falling off.

Anyway, the birth went well, according to the midwife. Both mom and sister are doing good, and assuming I get to bed in the next hour or so, I'll still get to mass tomorrow.

Good night all!

Yours always,
Tara

Birthday, boxty, and cleaning

So I am now officially 22 years old. Today has largely been marked by a degree of self-indulgence (hello four empty coke cans) but I have accomplished a few things.

I got up early and went to mass. Now whether or not I'll make it tomorrow morning as well is up in the air, but I do plan to. Honestly, getting up at 6am is not what I want to do, no matter how much I enjoy the end result (that is, attending morning mass). Truthfully, I can knock it back to 6:20, because I don't leave until 6:45 and 25 minutes is more than enough time, even on the morning when I take a shower.

But I got up this morning and went to mass. Then I went home and took an hour long nap because I had a hard time getting to sleep the night before and was still really tired. I'm hoping a shot of amaretto before bed will cure that problem.

After that I worked on my room some. I reorganized some shelves and pulled some books and clothes down to go to goodwill. I still have several more drawers to go through just puling out the stuff I don't wear to get rid of. And more books.

I will be honest, I struggle to get rid of books, even the ones I don't really like. It's just one of those things. I'm a book person. I mean, thinking about the Library of Alexandria makes me want to cry. All those books, gone. And it's even worse when you consider just how much work went into those books! They were hand written!

I've made a decent amount of progress though, so it's not too bad. I've got three boxes to unpack still though, not including my key-board that's sitting in the shed. I need to get the empty boxes out of the corner, and try to move the end table. I'm hoping to maybe replace it with a bookcase, albeit a thin one. Maybe it can hold the million and one odds and ends I have. I also have a bunch of knick-knacks that have to go.

To this day I still can't understand why having a statue of a laughing Buddha is okay but a saint medal is not. My mother gave me the little Buddha, but I bought the saint medal. Of course, now I have several of them, but the first one I bought was St. Catherine of Alexandria, patron saint of librarians and book-keepers.

My dad gave me the St. Barbara medal I have. She's the patron saint of the Field Artillery (and more besides, but that how I know her best). Then I got St. Patrick, and just recently St. Brigid and Blessed Teresa of Calcutta. Mom never liked me wearing the St. Catherine medal. (but she bought me a laughing Buddha?)

Anyway! So as part of my dinner I had half a boxty. I've decided that, the next time I make these, I'm going to make them thinner. Also, my marmalade did not set, so I have pickled onions, and not onion marmalade. Still tastes good, but also still disappointing.

I've got a lot of cleaning to do tonight when I get home though. The exterminator comes tomorrow and I need to get it cleaned up so he can do his job, regardless of whether I'm there or not. This means that I need to get the pile of clothes on my bed bagged up to go, and get the pile of clothes on my floor sorted and put where it goes. I need to move my knitting tower onto it's new home, and maybe try to move entertainment center slightly so that I can get the last piece of it in place and out of the middle of my floor.

Of course, I'd also like to finish this stupid stole....so I'd best get to work.

Good night dear readers,
Yours always,
Tara

Powered by egg-rolls

Or at least my step-dad seems to think we are.

I went over to my mom's this morning after mass to make egg-rolls and just spend time with her. She scared the crap out of me, with her standing on her head and all. Apparently, Little Bird is still laying sideways when she needs to turn her little tail feathers around and lay head down, you know, to get ready? And so the mid-wife had advised my mother to lie with her butt up on the couch and her body on pillows on the floor. While she was doing this, my mother started laughing, which apparently hurt really badly and scared the tar out of little old me.

Did I mention that I don't do well with loved ones in pain?

Thankfully she was okay and she no longer has to do that.

The egg-rolls turned out good. The recipe is a traditional Vietnamese recipe that my mom got from a friend of hers who's husband was Vietnamese. Apparently it's his family's recipe. Either way, we've been making them forever and they are delicious. No photo's I'm afraid, but believe me when I say these are better than any egg-roll you've ever had a you local Chinese place.

My mother ate 3 and then had a energy boost, so to speak, P ate a belly full of them, and I ate 3 and got a move on myself, hence why my step-dad thinks that egg-rolls are apparently a power-boost.

I didn't get around to the boxty or the onion marmalade, so I'll have to do those tomorrow.

Sunday we're celebrating my birthday. We're going to go out for lunch after church, so that'll be nice. I spent  about an hour trying to decide where to go because I live for food that's good and cheap, and sadly that's not something you find in restaurants. I've settled on an Italian joint in Savannah, but I won't say where until Monday.

I went to mass this morning, although I almost didn't. For some reason I had a really hard time getting to bed last night and I did not want to get up this morning. I did though, and as always I'm glad that I did.

I'm headed to bed now, but I'll talk to you tomorrow.
Yours always,
Tara

Ouch!

Last night, or really, this morning, was not fun. I woke up at 2am to fairly bad pain in my abdomen, just below the rib cage. The pain persisted until about 5:20, making it impossible to get back to sleep. I'm planning, much to my displeasure, to make an appointment with a doctor and see about getting it checked out. This isn't the first time that this has happened, so I figure it's something that has to be looked at.

I have no real desire to do so, mind you. I hate doctors, hospitals, and pretty much anything related to the medical profession as it applies to living, breathing human beings. Medical examiners are cool, and the anatomy of the human body is fascinating, but hospitals make me anxious. Also, the last time I was at a hospital, it was because Mom was there because of a scare with Little Bird and the chapel was closed! Who closes a chapel in a hospital? I mean, ok, so maybe the good priest can't be there all the time, need to get a little sleep himself, but seriously?

I ended up leaning against a wall in a hallway, praying for my family, and that I'd remain undisturbed while falling apart. I don't do well when family members are in danger. I actually scared the living daylights out of the poor fellow I asked about the hours for the chapel. He thought someone had died! I mean, I'm sure someone had, but not any of my someones.

I digress. Point is, I'm not a fan of hospitals. At. ALL.

I fixed my poor teddy bear before bed last night. After 20 yrs of dedicated service, my beloved Teddy (yes, his name is Teddy) has begun to show his age. I'd send him to a stuffed animal doctor, but I don't trust people. And this is a highly important member of the Ursa Fluffus family! He's been there through illness, through injuries, through moves, through new family members, through funerals, he's even talked me out of running away! (I was and continue to be a weird kid.) And yes, I do still snuggle with my teddy bear at night!

Anyway, tomorrow I'm going to morning mass for the Feast of the Assumption, and then taking my truck in to get the front end alignment fixed. After that, I'm cleaning the house. I'm hoping I'll get the chance to make a short trip down to St. Augustine Saturday. There's a mission there I'd like to see for Nuestra Señora de La Leche y Buen Parto (Our Lady of Milk and Happy Delivery). Maybe she'll accept prayers from a concerned older sister.

It'd also be a good chance to get some great photos. Last time I went, I didn't take any pictures. Well, okay, I took a few, but since I was there to see a friend, they weren't really pictures of St. Augustine.

My mother tends to be the shutter happy one, a fact which induced misery as a child (and I count that all the way up to the present day and beyond, truthfully. As long as I'm her child) but I enjoy taking pictures as well. I'm usually content with a simple digital camera, while my mom like the bulky professional models. Of course, I've never stopped loving the old Polaroids that spit the picture out and develop it in 10 seconds. Those cameras, and their film, should always be available to the public.

I think my writing highlights a problem I have with life very well. I'll be 22 at the end of this month....and I still feel like a kid. I have a job, responsibilities, bills...and I still feel like a kid. Nobody tells you that being a 20-something is terrifying because you're expected to "be an adult" and you barely even feel like a teenager most of the time, let alone an adult. But then I wonder if that's just what adulthood is? A bunch of people who still feel like kids, but they have a little more experience in life, and so humanity fumbles along.

Except for that weirdo who literally never smiles. Like, they are the human personification of dour, imposing old buildings, that call to mind horror stories of Nuns with rulers and pinched faces, who you can literally never imagine as children because they are made out of stone!

I don't mean the Eeyore people. The gloomy people who are really good, and sweet, and want to help, but just can't help but be a Marshwiggle and sigh. You know, those people are actually really nice, because they're love little things. Eeyore was thrilled (in his own way) to receive a popped balloon and an empty jar from his friends, even if it wasn't what they'd meant to give him, because they'd tried really hard, and they did it because they loved him.

Nor do I mean the people like Rabbit, who grouse about boisterous people, who like the quiet, who like their work, and would rather not be interrupted when they're working because it's important. They can be very generous, and really do love their friends, even if they don't always want to be around them. They're a bit fussy, and a bit stuck-up some times, but they don't mean any harm.

I mean the people who are just the human personification of stoic, and that's their entire personality. Stoic, mature, reserved. These aren't bad traits, but in this sort of person, they're stifling!

Meanwhile, I'm over here as something of a cross between all the Hundred Acre Woods' beloved inhabitants. But Piglet and Eeyore are still my favorites. I'm sure that says something about my personality (paging: Dr. Freud?) but I'm not going to look to deeply into it.

Anyway, that's all for now! I'm going to get something to eat.
Yours always,
Tara

4 Months!

I asked my mother earlier if she had any idea what she wanted for Christmas and her answer was "That's five months away!"

Four months! And about 22 days, but that's not the point! If I want even a chance to finish my Christmas knitting by then I need to start now! I'm not the fastest knitter. I mean, okay, I can make a pair of baby mittens in an 8hr work day, but that's hardly the point!

Am I the only one freaking out over Christmas?

In other news, I bought the last few pieces for the St. Dymphna chaplet I'm making for my sister. I also have plans for a Our Lady Star of the Sea chaplet and a rosary with St. Joan of Arc as the center. I need to get some bronze chain for the OL Star of the Sea chaplet.

My sister is planning on trying to come down in October for Little Bird's birth, but apparently is struggling with impulse spending. Of course, this is as opposed to her hurting herself, so a little over-spending, as long as she's not going in debt, is a good thing.

I've been trying to budget out my money for next payday. I'm thinking of canceling my membership with ancestry.com. They make it look so easy, but honestly all I've gotten out of it is a headache. I'd much rather spend that money on knitting patterns and yarn if I'm not going to get anywhere with it. I mean, I was expecting birth certificates and marriage licenses(and there are a few of the later) but most of their "info" comes from census data and that stuff is terrible to work with! Especially if you're in the South prior to 1920! So my search for family roots is a flop, and I don't really care. I'm going to talk with my Great-grandma....possibly.

I love my great-grandmother, but she thinks everyone is out to get her, and almost every time she opens her mouth, sewage comes out. If you lead the conversation, like I'd have to, she's usually not so bad. Even so, not fun.

Oh! Have you seen these? Plush St. Patrick and Plush OL Star of the Sea ? Oh my gosh! These are just too sweet! I love these! They're so cute and so simple, and they would be so great for kids because they're soft and accessible! There are probably more variation out there, but those are the two that I found first and just LOVED!

I'm still disappointed about the cathedral. Aside from the aesthetics, it's also, schedule wise, a bit better for me. This, of course, is because it is the cathedral and is also right in the heart of Savannah, which means it offers mass more frequently during the day. For example, I won't be able to attend Friday morning mass at any of the locations because I'm helping my granma, but I can attend afternoon mass.

The down side, of course, is the sheer number of people that attend on Sundays and Holy Days (and let's not even touch upon St. Pat's) which, for little ole me, is quite terrifying. Not exactly high up on my list of things to do.

Either way, one step at a time. Everything will work out.

My birthday is coming up at the end of this month! August 26th I'll be 22 years old. I'm not really sure how to feel about it. I really wanted to do some big Hobbit themed party (I haven't had a party since I was 10) but I just....I haven't bought anything for decoration, and I don't really feel like throwing a party. I already know my paycheck around Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years will be lower than my usual paycheck. The front end of my tire needs to be re-aligned and really, all I want is for my family to be there, and that's never going to happen.

Oh, I'll get most of them, but my mom and dad don't get along. Plus, Dad is job hunting right now, and I don't want to put any strain on him (which it would be, because he lives in Colorado) if I can avoid it. I'll be honest, I'm still struggling with the scars their divorce left and I hate that so much.

Because those scars aren't hurting them, those scars are hurting me, and I just want it to stop.

Anyway, I've put off finishing up this second mitten long enough. I've got one more pair after this, and then I've got booties and hats to make.

Feel free to leave your thought, I'd love to read them.
Yours always,
Tara