Chia Girl

I love chia seeds.  Since running the half marathon in May, they have been a staple in my diet.  I eat at least 2 tablespoons every day, sometimes more.  No matter what I eat for breakfast, I have 2 cups of water with one tablespoon of chia seeds as my  beverage (well, after my 6 cups of coffee that is!)  I also mix them in Greek yogurt most days for lunch.  I swear they have done me a world of good in so many ways. Whenever I feel like I'm dragging, or if I feel shaky from low blood sugar, a tablespoon of chia seeds usually puts me back on track.  I'm always looking for new ways to eat them, and while on a recipe search, I came across this link, which is a neat little page about the benefits of chia seeds. I often have people ask me what they are and why I eat them.  Well, here you go!

http://www.mychiaseeds.com/Articles/Top10ChiaBenefits.html

I also found some new suggestions for how to eat them:

* Mix them with peanut butter or butter on toast (I don't eat much bread, so I won't eat it on toast, but mixed with peanut butter on a banana might be good!)

*  Soak in milk and add to oatmeal (again, I don't eat oatmeal except on a rare occasion, but when I do, you bet I'll be adding the chia seeds!)

*  Add to cake batter...actually, I think I'll add them to my next batch of banana bread.  I have two over-ripe bananas in my freezer that need to be baked before they get freezer burn.  I read that you can substitute chia gel for half of the butter content in baked goods.  That's awesome!  I'm definitely going to try this one!

*  Cook brown rice in apple juice.  Add grated apple and chia seeds.  I have cooked rice in apple juice before and eaten it for breakfast.  It's good that way.  I also like to add a cinnamon stick while it's cooking too.  Adding the chia seeds seems like a logical next step!

So what are you waiting for?  Go out and get some chia seeds ASAP!  (You can get them in the organic section of most grocery stores.  In Hollidaysburg, Giant Eagle doesn't carry them, but Martins does.)

Season Of Gratitude

When I started counting my blessings, my whole life turned around. - Willie Nelson

It's almost November, and as I have done over the past few years, I intend to devote another 30 days to thanks.  It's a cliche time of year to do this, I know.  Everyone gets lovey-dovey during the holidays. That's all well and good, as long as you continue those thoughts of gratitude, appreciation and kindness throughout the year.  I think we (as in my family) do a pretty good job of letting each other know how much we love and appreciate each other as well as our friends, all year long.  I also know that there is always room for improvement.  I believe that something as simple as being aware of our smallest blessings can do wonders for our overall outlook on life.  No, it's not going to eliminate your stress, but it might just make it a little more tolerable.  I devote my blog to gratitude during the holidays specifically for that reason - to keep my own perspective positive.  

I endure a lot of teasing about my obsessive-compulsive organizing, especially during the holidays.  I've already been asked if I am done with my Christmas shopping.  Actually, by this time of year, I normally have quite a bit done, but this year I am significantly behind.  While I am an obsessive planner (I dream to-do lists, seriously), planning ahead is not my primary motivator for finishing Christmas shopping early.  I need to get my Christmas shopping done before the Christmas music hits the stores.  I also have very little patience for crowds, but truly, it's the music that gets me.  More than once I have found myself choking back tears because Bing Crosby is bellowing out White Christmas on the loudspeaker at the mall. Forget about venturing into a Hallmark store between Thanksgiving and New Years.  That's a true recipe for disaster!  There's just something about the mixture of Christmas music and shopping that makes me horribly, I mean utterly, sobbingly, inconsolably depressed.  I can't take it.  

I don't know why I have this Christmas music induced depression.  It's been a long standing foe of mine.  I think it's some mixture of missing my grandmother, thinking about those less fortunate, feeling guilty about things I have or don't have, or worrying about things have or have not done.  Maybe it's that damn Catholic upbringing.  One time I started to cry telling Jacob that Mary was the only woman pure enough to carry God's son!  He thought I was crazy...Yeah, let's blame Catholicism. Maybe I've blocked out some trauma caused by a nun at some point in my childhood.  Sure. That's a good theory for now.

Whatever it is, I have found that I am able to minimize the impact of the holiday depression by doing a few very simple things.  The first one is to get my shopping done before the stores start piping Christmas carols incessantly.  The other is not to listen to Christmas music at home.  I might be persuaded into playing a little on Christmas day, but otherwise, it's off limits in this house!  But the most important thing that I can do is to take a moment every day and sincerely reflect on the blessings in my life.  Really, there is so much good that I could never quantify it.   I'm not talking about big things, or even "things" at all.  We have plenty of stuff and much of it is nice stuff for which I am very grateful, but what we have the most and best of is each other - friends and family, even those who have passed away have left us with life long blessings.  It's in focusing on the good in the world that the melancholy and pessimistic perspective slowly changes to one of hope, beauty and gratitude.  For me, it is only by purposefully focusing on the good that I am able to keep myself in the moment, to be aware of God's grace in my life, and to fully absorb the wonder and blessings that will someday be only a memory as well. Some day my parents will be gone and my kids will be grown. Who knows where my friends and family will be.  I'm sure that God will fill my life with other blessings I could not possibly foresee, but I also know I will miss this time, just as I miss the times already gone.  To miss times gone by is one thing, to regret not taking full advantage of the time we are given is something all together different.  I will not waste this time.  I will be grateful for each second. I will not cry in the mall! 

So...check back every day in November.  Even if I don't have something inspirational to write about, I have amassed enough quotes to inspire your own thoughts throughout the month of November.  Let it be the beginning of an early New Year's resolution - to pause each day, just for a moment, and say thanks.  

Happy Halloween

Thursday was our trick-or-treat.  The weather was absolutely miserable - cold and rainy.  We tried to talk them into going to the mall for treats, but kids will not be deterred by something as trivial as weather.  They decided to brave the elements, and go door to door.  The bigger kids lasted amazingly long.  Andrew made it to the end of our block and said, "Mom, I have enough candy.  I'm ready to go home!"  We talked him into 5 more blocks and then he and Ella threw in the towel.  They came home with considerably less candy this year than in years past, which is perfectly fine by me.  The important thing was that they had a good time, and that was a definite!  Tonight is the annual Halloween parade, which gets a pretty good turnout for this little town.  As I type this entry, there is snow steadily collecting on our back porch, so I'm not so sure about our attendance at the parade.  Guess we'll just wait and see...and pray for a short lived snowfall! 

 Every "poodle skirt princess" (to use her words) needs a dragon (or dinosaur or whatever the mood calls for) to protect her during 

 The older crew getting ready to brave the weather in search of candy!

 The brave, protective dragon got cold and had to ask for a blanket at his grandparent's house.  

 "Wow!  Look at all those peanut butter cups!"

"My stash isn't too shabby either!"

Sugar High

Perhaps the best card ever:

"My motto...anything worth doing, is worth over-doing!"

Thanks, Norma!

We cannot do great things on this Earth, only small things with great love. 

- Mother Teresa

You know, I was going to write something about that quote, but really, I think it speaks for itself.  Think about it as you go about your days this week.  I know I will be. 

Greg's 40th Birthday Book

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Hummus, Anyone?

In case you are wondering, avocado does not make a good substitute for tahini in hummus.  Bummer.

Great Pumpkin (muffins, that is)

"There are three things I have learned never to discuss with people: religion, politics, and the Great Pumpkin."

 Charles Schulz

This post is dedicated to my girls from Allegheny East (ahem, Milestone) - for years of tolerating my seriously lacking culinary and crafting skills (penguin bulletin board, ring a bell?),  for always finding the humor in even the most stressful situations (who needs to wear pants in the grocery store anyway?!),  for the strength to take on even the most daunting task (like going to the pool at North Park with 10 male clients, and only one male staff, leading to several nudity scares and an unfortunate bowel issue), but most importantly for 12 years of heartfelt friendship (no joke here.  I really do love you!)  When times get stressful, when I can't find the humor, when I feel like I need a lift, I think of you three and the fun we had and I instantly smile.  I'm so blessed to call you friends.

I'd also like to make a secondary dedication to one of our most cherished clients, D.  May God's hand be on his shoulders now.  May he be spending all of his time camping, and may the makers of his pumpkin pie know enough to add more than just the can of pumpkin puree to the crust.  Sorry, D.  I can do so much more with a can of pumpkin now.  If only you were still around.


Pumpkin Muffins
2 1/2 cups quinoa flour
3/4 cup sugar
2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp ground ginger
1/4 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
1/4 cup melted butter
1/4 cup unsweetened applesauce
1 cup canned pumpkin
1 egg, beaten
1/2 cup buttermilk

Preheat oven to 375.  Combine flour, sugar, baking powder, ginger, baking soda and salt.

In a bowl, whisk butter, applesauce, pumpkin, egg and buttermilk.  Fold wet mixture into the dry.  Stir until just combined.

Fill muffin cups 3/4 full.  Bake 20-25 minutes.

This recipe is thanks to www.Runnersworld.com.  The original recipe called for whole wheat flour, but I don't use wheat flour.  I prefer quinoa for my baking needs.  It has more protein, fewer carbs and is still versatile enough that you can't notice the substitution.  I also substituted applesauce for the oil.  It's a straight substitution, so if you prefer oil, just use 1/4 cup.  Likewise, the recipe suggested making this with mashed sweet potatoes instead of pumpkin (peel, cube and boil one or two sweet potatoes to make one cup mashed).  I plan to try the sweet potato version.  I just didn't have any on hand.  I also threw in a few chocolate chips for good measure.  We had a quarter of a bag sitting in the cupboard for the last 6 months, so I thought I would use them up.  Good call, if I do say so myself!

These were pretty good.  I would definitely do them again.

Marsha, Norma and Donna - have I redeemed myself on the pumpkin baking front?

Now, I need suggestions for what to do with the remaining pumpkin.  I still have close to 2 cups left.  Suggestions?

Hummus Among Us

I know how worried you all are about my recent addiction to hummus.  Today I looked in the cupboard and I only had one can of chickpeas!  Oh no!  Not to worry, though.  I substituted a can of black beans and it is SO good!  I can't get enough of this stuff.  If you want some, make your own!  Throw one can of chick peas, one can of black beans, juice from 1 1/2 lemons, approx 1/3 cup olive oil, approx 1/3 cup of tahini, some fresh minced garlic, salt, and a little water into the food processor.  Zip it for a few minutes and viola!  Don't eat it with chips.  There are enough carbs in the beans to satisfy you.  Opt for some fresh veggies instead.  Feed your own addiction!  

Time Passages

Have you noticed the "new" videos posted to my side bar?  Greg had them saved on his phone for over three years and has been sending them to me recently.  They are all videos from when I was still staying at home with Andrew, well before he was even one year old.  I know it's so cliche, but I can't believe how fast time flies.  It seems like just yesterday that I was worried about how to tell my mom that I was pregnant with Jacob.  Now he's 8 years old, in 3rd grade, on the swim team, walking to my mom's without a chaperon at times, half way to driving, one year away from half way to graduating.  It seems like just yesterday that my biggest worry with Andrew was containing his vomit.  He puked everywhere, all the time.  It was so gross.  But he was such a good baby, always happy, slept so well so early, always madly in love with his big brother.  Now I let him play in the yard with the older kids for a few minutes while I am inside.  He is potty trained and out of the crib.  He can write the letter A all by himself and count to 15 alone.

It can't be true.  These can't be my boys.  Oh, how I wish there was pause button for life!

Have I Told You How Much I Love...

Hummus?  Oh, you thought this was going to be another sappy entry about my wonderful anniversary date and how madly in love I am with my husband.  Seriously?  Don't you know me yet?  I can only do so much sentiment at one time, before I have to counter it with something sarcastic.  It's just more fun that way! 

Actually, I do really, really love hummus.  It's truly the ultimate snack.  It has some good carbs to stabilize your blood sugar, some fiber to keep you full, some healthy fats from the EVOO, and fantastic flavor!  What I love is that you can mix it up so many ways - tahini or no tahini, cumin or no, onion, chili powder, cayenne pepper...just name the spice and throw it in!  Add some raw veggies for crunch and it's the perfect mid-day pick me up.  I'm slightly addicted right now.

(Just for clarification, though - notice the plastic bowl in the photo...you really should stay away from plastic.  It messes with your hormones.  I almost always use glass.  I just happened to grab this one today.  Never store anything in plastic, ever.  And never heat something in the microwave in plastic.  Actually, you should try not to use a microwave very often, if possible.  It changes the molecular structure of your food, and creates free radicals.  That's no good for you either.  It only takes 5 minutes to throw something in a pot on the stove, and your body will thank you!)

I won't keep you in suspense about my anniversary date either, because I know you're all dying to know about it.  It was wonderful!  We had a blast! We both worked until noon, then spent the afternoon alone together.  In the evening, we went out to eat with my brother and sister in law and then back to their house to play games.  Yep, we sure are wild and crazy!  So wild and crazy, in fact, that we took a cab to and from Dalann and Fred's just so we could live it up!  (Actually, I only had 3 drinks all night, so Greg had to make up for it by drinking the remainder of the alcohol.  We still needed that cab though, because he couldn't drive and I can't see at night.  Whew! Smart ones, we are!)  The food was fantastic (and you know that has to be true, because I am one of the most picky eaters on the face of the earth, especially when it comes to restaurants).  The best part was that we laughed the whole night long, playing games and just being together.   We laughed so hard at times, our stomachs hurt!  Dalann even had beer come out of her nose at one point, which was pretty funny in and of itself.

So it was a day well spent - alone for a while, then together with family dear enough to call friends.  Today Greg and I slept until almost 8 a.m. (OK, it was close to 130 til we went to bed, so it's not like we slept for eons, but any sleep past 5 a.m. is a plus in my book!)  We ran errands together, took a walk through a local festival, and saw a bunch of friends.  Now I'm baking a pie and blogging and Greg is napping.  I have done very little housework today, and frankly, I don't intend to do any.  I have time, and I know I will regret my decision come Monday, but I can't remember the last time we did absolutely nothing except what we felt like doing.  I plan to take full advantage of the freedom.  Actually, I believe a nap is in my future as well!

So here are some pictures from the night.  Enjoy!  Over and out!

 Attempting to take our own picture before we left...before we drank anything!  We're such goofs.  

It wouldn't be a gathering with Williams family members without at least one ridiculous game, like "try to throw a balled up napkin into a chandelier."  After 30 minutes of misses, I stood up and put the damn thing into the lamp.  Then Greg threw it up in exasperation and it went in on its own!  We were the champions!

Dalann, Fred and my niece Karissa sang us "Happy Anniversary."

Getting into the cab to drive home.  Look closely, you'll see me holding a bottle of wine high over my head in a happy salute to the evening!

This Kiss

This Friday is our 5th wedding anniversary.  Sometimes it feels like we have been together forever, and sometimes it feels as if just yesterday Greg was micromanaging his accounts at Edward Jones, bringing me coffee and staying just a little longer each time to chat.  That's where we met, Edward Jones.  It was August 2003.  Jacob was 3 months old.  I was working part time at Edward Jones and taking classes full time at IUP.  I was  in the middle of a divorce and a monumental bout of postpartum depression, and Greg brought a ray of sunshine to a very dark time for me.


For 4 months, we swapped divorce horror stories (looking back, he wins hands down), and chit chat about every day life.  One time, after he left, the full time receptionist said to me, "oh, he'd be a good catch for you."  Another time after he left, the Investment Representative came into the main office to talk about him.  "What do you think about Greg?" he said.  "He's a super guy."  I'm sure I said I thought he was nice, and certainly handsome, and I remember Jim, the investment rep, smiling like a little kid.  Was he trying to set us up?  I wasn't quite sure.  Honestly, though, with all that I had going on, even as much as I liked Greg, romance was the farthest thing from my mind.  If he had asked me out during those first few months, I would have said no, not because of him, but because of me.  But he didn't ask me out.  We just talked.  


I stopped working at Edward Jones in December and I didn't see Greg all winter.  I thought about him from time to time, but I was so busy at school, with a new baby, just trying to stay afloat. Even though we lived two blocks apart in a small town, it wasn't until the following July that I ran into him.  I was pushing Jacob in his stroller and Greg and his brother Rob were outside of Rob's house, returning from a fishing trip.  Greg motioned with his head multiple times for Rob to get lost, but Rob, having been married for a while at that point, was clueless.  He just stood there with us, smiling and nodding, and joining the conversation!  Thankfully, Greg didn't let Rob keep him from asking me out.  As the conversation began to lull, he said, "Hey, I just can't let another 7 months go by without seeing you again.  Would you like to have dinner some time?"  Aw.  Now, how could I possibly say no to that?  I gave him my phone number and walked away, smiling the whole way home.


Our first date was on a Tuesday night.  I can still see him standing in my parent's doorway when he picked me up.  He was wearing a gray, short sleeved button down shirt and jeans.  He looked so handsome and so tall!  The next morning my mom said, "Koelle, did you see how loose his shirt was around his waist? Do you know what that means?"  Clueless as I can be, I said, "No, what?"  "It means that he has broad strong shoulders and a flat stomach."  "Mom!" was all I said.  I couldn't talk about Greg's abs with my mother over morning coffee.  It just didn't seem right...but I did think about it for a good long while afterwards!


Actually, I never stopped thinking about it, really.  During those mundane every day tasks that don’t require a ton of concentration - doing the dishes, driving to & from work, folding laundry – I often let my mind wander to thoughts about his strong arms, his toned stomach, and his hands…  Oh, I’ve always loved his hands.  He has big, very masculine hands, calloused and rough from years of hard work, but still so incredibly gentle. They are a perfect analogy for Greg as a whole.   That juxtaposition of rough yet tender is one of Greg’s most attractive attributes.  He’s such a man’s man – loves sports, can fix just about anything, has a tough and dirty job – but when it comes to his family and friends, not just me, he is extraordinarily warm and sweet, and completely comfortable admitting his sensitivity.  He is a hopeless romantic.  He cries at chick flicks.  He would drop everything instantly just to spend time with the people he loves.  He adores his children.   Goodness, who could ask for more from a man?

On our first date, we went to Off the Rak in Ebensburg for dinner and then out to The Castle for drinks afterwards. I remember watching him carefully remove all of the onions from his salad at dinner, and I appropriately followed suit.  I remember he took longer in the bathroom than I did!  (He still does.  He pees forever.)  I don’t remember what all we talked about, but I know I had a good time.  What I very clearly remember, however, is the anxiety that set over me towards the end of our car ride home.  “He took the onions off of his salad,” I thought.  "Does that mean he is going to kiss me?  Oh boy."   I wasn’t sure I wanted him to kiss me.  I mean, I wanted it, but I was so nervous.  I hadn’t been kissed for almost 2 years at that point.  I was terribly out of practice.  What if I messed it all up and then he never asked me out again, because really, who wants to date a bad kisser?  I don’t think I heard a word he said during the last five minutes of the drive, because I was overcome with my own nerves!

But he didn’t kiss me.  He walked me to the door, hugged me, took my hands, looked into my eyes and said, “I had a great time.  Can we do this again sometime soon?”  He was such a gentleman.  I closed the door behind me and watched through the window as he walked to his truck, simultaneously relieved to have escaped facing my worries and also eager to see this man again.   

I don’t remember where we went on our second date, but I know he didn’t kiss me then either.  It wasn’t until our third date that he mustered the nerve.  We were sitting in his truck in the parking lot across the street from my house after returning from a hike at Canoe Creek.  He looked at me and said, “There’s something I’ve been wanting to do for a while, but I’ve been too nervous to ask.”  Then there was a long pause while he considered his words.  Finally, with startling hesitancy, he asked, “Can I kiss you?”  Of course I said yes.  What I was thinking was, “What the hell took you so long?!”   What I remember most about that kiss was the fact that Greg was so nervous he was actually trembling.  I was shocked to literally feel his anxiety, because up until that point, he always appeared to be so smooth and calm.  I wish I had known all along how nervous he was, because honestly, it put my tension to shame!  It was during that kiss when I caught my first glimpse of Greg’s depth.  No one had ever kissed me like that before.  I had never felt so many emotions wrapped into just a minute’s worth of contact.  It was the fairy tale kiss teenage girls dream about, the one that I didn’t believe truly existed, narrowly lingering on my very own lips.  When I think about it now, I can still taste it, still feel the power of it coursing through me.  Yeah, it was that good. 

Eight years later, with 5 years of marriage behind us, the nerves have subsided, but his kiss is still just as sweet.  In fact, in many ways, it’s even sweeter.  We have weathered a few storms.  There are times when Greg makes me absolutely nuts.  There is no one, besides maybe my mother, who can piss me off more easily than Greg.  I’m sure he would say the same (perhaps even more so) about me.  That’s OK, though.  In fact, it’s actually a good thing.  No one has a perfect marriage.  If you fight fair, keep an open mind, admit your failures and most importantly, sincerely apologize for your mistakes and forgive the mistakes of others, those little bumps can be wonderful learning experiences.  We really don’t fight all that often, but I can say that just about every argument we have had, we have eventually used as a chance to understand one another better and to grow a little together.   And we always kiss and make-up.  

Each day when I wake up, one of my first thoughts is how blessed I am to have Greg in my life.  He leaves for work well before I get up most days, but we still send each other a daily good-morning text, just a little note to say, “Hello. I love you. Have a good day.”  At some point every afternoon we do it again – send a kiss through the wire.  The most cherished part of my day, at least as far as my marriage is concerned, is each night when we climb into bed together, and snuggle up tight.  I love the comfort and security of his arms more than anything else.  I love that this man loves me, and I love that I get to kiss him goodnight - tonight, tomorrow and for years to come.  

Oh, Rats!

When we turned down the sheets to go to bed last night, Greg found this lovely creature waiting for him:

Pretty disgusting, isn't it?  I don't know where Jacob got this thing, but I imagine that my mother had something to do with it.  I thought it was absolutely hysterical.  First of all, I can just see him sneaking into our room and slipping this - rat, rabid bunny hybrid, what is it exactly? - beneath the covers, snickering to himself.  He has put many things under Greg's pillow in an attempt to scare him - plastic spiders, bugs, a bat, you name it.  Jake gets a real kick out of scaring Greg. 

Then, just look at this thing!  What on earth is it???  I think those teeth might be real!  You can't see very well, but it also has disgusting brown toenails that remind of me of something that would belong to an old diabetic smoker.  And look at the way it's head is twisted!  OMG!  Greg said it looks like our cat when he runs away in a mad frenzy after attacking you.  Whew!  This thing is nasty!

Greg said to tell Jacob that he screamed like a little girl when he saw it.  I'm just glad that it was on his side of the bed, not mine, and that it happened on a night when Greg was home, because if I had found it alone, I probably would have jumped! Gotta love life with boys!

Oh My Word!

Remember that nap I was so thrilled about yesterday?  Yeah, it's not looking like such a good idea now, when I'm wide awake at 3:30 a.m.  Normally when I can't sleep, I do chores, but I really don't have a whole lot to do that won't make noise and wake the rest of my slumbering family.  Perhaps today is a good day to start that strength training routine that I have been avoiding lately.  I can't use the excuse of not having time!  First things first, though.  Before I can do anything else, I need coffee.  And since I'm up well before the paper boy, the computer is seems to be my seat of choice.  So...what should I blog about today?  Has it been a while since I shared some of the funny things my kids have said?  It seems like it has been.  Let's go with it.  I have a small stockpile saved...

One night I was late getting home because of an evening event at  work.   Greg had to get both of the boys ready for bed, which can sometimes be a chore.  When I came home, Greg told me how surprisingly good Andrew had been.  He said, "He even put his pajamas on and brushed his teeth without a peep."  Now, "peep" is the word Andrew uses for his penis.  When Greg said this, Andrew's jaw dropped, his brow furrowed and he adamantly said, "Dad!  I have a peep! See!"  Then he pulled his PJs down so I could see that it was indeed there.  The lesson?  Don't mess with a boy's peep!

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A few weeks ago, my father in law took Andrew for the day.  They went to Tractor Supply, out to lunch, for a ride up a game lands road on Lock Mountain and then to Ritchey's for ice cream.  Andrew had a wonderful day.  He loved spending the day with his Pap.  Later that evening, I was outside with Andrew and he had to pee.  Being the lazy bathroom attendee that I am, I told him to just go outside.  He said, "Mom, you can pee with me like Pap did."  Um...no thanks, Buddy.  Not that I haven't peed outside, but not in my own yard. The neighbors might frown on that kind of behavior!

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Hollidaysburg is the county seat.  We have a wonderfully historic courthouse down town, which is really only a few blocks from our house.  One day when we were driving by, Andrew pointed at it and yelled, "Mom!  Look at that castle!"  I guess it does look like a castle.  How about that?  A palace practically in our own back yard!

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Both of my boys are nudists at heart.  I'd like to blame this trait on Greg, but honestly, Greg is one of the most modest people you could ever meet.  Unless it is completely appropriate not to be dressed, he is always fully clothed.  It's me, on the other hand, who is a little more relaxed.  I don't often walk around completely naked, but I definitely take my time getting dressed.  Lately, Jacob has been stripping his school uniform off nearly before he is even inside the door in the afternoons.  Every day, I find a trail of clothing, starting with a tie and ending with a pair of pants from my front door, through the kitchen and into the living room, where it ends with him plopped down on the couch.  Aside from the fact that he should be at least putting his clothes in the hamper, it is kind of funny.  Frankly, I feel that way about my work clothes too, and if I had the opportunity, I would probably do the same thing!

Last week, my mother in law was here watching the boys and she was a little surprised by Jacob's state of undress.  When she asked him about it, he said, "Well, I'm getting ready to watch Half Naked Animals.  I thought I should be prepared."  I was unaware that you had to be half naked to watch this show.  Maybe I should rethink his permission to view this particular cartoon!

Then, yesterday during the Steeler party at my in-laws, the kids found an ant hill.  In typical kid fashion, they began to feed an nurture these tiny little creatures.  (I'm sure my in-laws were thrilled about that!)  Jake even had some in a cup with pretzels, grass and dirt to bring home as pets.  (Um...let me think about that...No!)  He was sitting on the ground, playing with the ants, and my sister in law said, "Jake, be careful they don't climb up your shorts."

"No, problem," he said.  "They don't bite, and I'm not wearing any underwear anyway."  I'm not sure what the logic behind his thinking was.  Maybe the lack of underwear made it easier for the ants to escape, and less likely to cause problems?  Or maybe he just wanted to tell someone that he wasn't wearing undies?  Who knows.  All I know is that he went the entire day underwear free. Nice!

While we're on the topic of underwear... one day after school when Jake was in his typically undressed state, he came into the kitchen.   I was chopping veggies and not really looking at him when he spoke.  "Mom," he happily said, "Guess what this shape inside my underwear is?"  Not having a clue what he was talking about, I took a deep breath and considered my response.  But before I could answer, he chimed in with, "it's an iPod eraser! Haha!"  He was holding an eraser in his underwear!  Boys.  There's not much else to be said about that one!  I can assure you that putting items into their underwear is NOT an activity they learned from me!

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Andrew calls a yo-yo a "yo-go."  He also says, "I'm soaping wet."  And lately he has been asking me if things cost "a hundry dollar."  Yesterday he asked my mom if something she bought cost two hundry dollar.  I guess he thought whatever it was, was pretty valuable!

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My boys have polar opposite personalities.  Andrew loves to rock-n-roll, while Jacob generally just tolerates the band.  In the car however, Jacob loves to listen to loud music, while Andrew prefers to keep the radio audible, but not blasting.  Jake always, without fail, asks me to turn the radio up, usually before we even get out of the drive way.  The other day, he asked for more volume, and just to be difficult, Andrew decided he didn't want the music to be louder.  Of course, this all too common disagreement turned into an all out argument, with Andrew eventually yelling, "I don't want the music loud, Jake!  It'll give me brain freeze!"

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Whenever possible, if Greg is home in the evening, I like to soak and read in the tub.  It's 30 minutes of escape from the hectic day.  Plus, it's often the only time I have to read, and I really love a good book.  One night last week, my cell phone rang while I was getting a bath.  I answered, and it was Jacob, calling me from the living room, wanting to know where I was, what I was doing, when I was coming back down stairs, and oh, could he have a brownie?  Good grief!

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Jake joined the swim team at the YMCA.  It's a pretty intense schedule.  He has practice 3 nights a week and swim meets will start in December and go through February.  It's great exercise for him, and he seems to be enjoying it so far.  The other night when I picked him up, I said, "When we get home, you can get a shower to rinse off all that chlorine."

He replied, "I already got a shower at the Y."

"How could you have gotten a shower without soap and shampoo?"

"I just used the bar of soap that was already in the shower."

Deep breath.  Shrug off the heebie jeebies.  "Jake, for future reference, we don't share soap with people we don't know.  I'll buy you some shampoo and soap to take with you, if you prefer to shower at the Y."  God, please don't let him develop with some strange locker room fungus!

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That same night was Hollidaysburg's homecoming.  The Y is right next to the football field, so we could easily hear the band and festivities from the parking lot. Andrew looked over to the game and said excitedly, "Mom!  I think it's a party!"  Jake replied, "Yeah, well, I hope they don't keep that up all night.  I gotta get some sleep!"

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I often shower with Andrew.  It's just easier to wash both of us at the same time. One day while waiting for the water to warm up, he looked my naked body up and down and then said, "Mom, did you eat too much candy?"  Yep.  You can always count on kids to boost your self esteem!

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I had gas perks that were about to expire, so on Friday I went to Martins to redeem them.  Well, I guess everyone's gas perks were about to expire, because there was a nice line for the pumps.  We had time to kill while Jake was swimming, so I didn't mind waiting.  The weather was beautiful, and the windows were down.  We had been waiting for about 10 minutes when a teenage boy who worked for the store walked by pushing a trash can.  The boy had long hair in a pony tail, and Andrew said several times, very loudly, "Mom, is that a boy or a girl?" I tried to change the subject, because I didn't want the kid to feel bad, but my lack of response just made Andrew ask me louder!  Oh, how I wished the windows had been up!

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The cat scratched Jacob's eyelid one day when they were playing.  It was a good scratch, but Jacob is also the drama king.  He can beat your little girl's whines in a heartbeat.  Standing there looking at me with half of his face all scrunched up, and an ice pack on his eye, he said, "Well, mom.  At least I still have one good eye."  Ah, yes.  I guess that's why God gave us two eyes - in case we lose one in battle with a kitten!

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My last little snippet was something that my niece said.  My sister is pregnant with her second baby, and she is due in February.  My niece Ella is thrilled to be having a little sister.  My mom asked her if my sister's belly was getting big and Ella's response was something like, "Not yet.  She didn't grow the head yet, and that's the biggest part of a baby."  She didn't grow the head yet??  Haha!  It's so funny how little ones think!  I love this age.  I wish I could freeze our kids where they are right now.  They're so much fun.

And that, my friends, is all I have for now.  It's now after 5 (I didn't sit and write all of this at once.  I'm a computer grazer...type a little, pack a lunch, type a little, get more coffee, type a little, do some laundry. It's my own version of adult ADD).  Now that I have 8 cups of coffee coursing through my veins, I'm thinking that maybe I should start that strength training routine ....maybe...eh, maybe tomorrow...

Sweet Seasons

I had one of the best weekends I have had in a really long time.  It didn't start of looking like anything spectacular.  Greg was called into work on Friday night and I had to do a community outreach event for work on Saturday morning/afternoon.  So while Greg and the boys were out fishing and enjoying the wonderful weather, I was stuck inside.  But the event went well,  and I had some time to myself afterwards to do some much needed shopping.  Earlier in the week, Jacob had left yet another crayon in the laundry, and before I realized it, another entire load of clothing was ruined.  Among the casualties was my favorite pair of black pants.  On one hand, I was terribly saddened.  They were among the few pairs of pants I have ever owned that I actually really loved.  But, on the other hand, they were over 5 years old, so it was truly time to retire.  I tried on (I'm not exaggerating) about 40 pairs of pants and amazingly found two pairs that were suitable.  I also got two new shirts.  And, under the recommendation of one of my dear friends, I bought some new bras.  Not cotton bras either!  I bought 3 plain beige, black and white bras and one - are you ready for this - leopard print.  Ha!  Take that, boring cotton underwear! I have to draw the line at under wire, though.  I can't have metal pressed up against my rib cage.  Honestly, if I had my way, I would go braless and make-upless all the time, but I fear the repercussions it would have on others, so I'll keep the bras and mascara for now.  I can't make any promises for the future!

Saturday, evening my parents came home from a week long vacation in Cape Cod.  It was nice to see them after such a long time.  I know, it was only a week, but when you are used to seeing someone every day, a week is a long time!  It was really a long time for Jake.  He missed them terribly.  He was thrilled to have them home, and of course, he spent the night with them Saturday.  Greg and I put Andrew to bed early and made the most of an evening alone.  We had way too much to drink, got a little crazy, and just had a really wonderful night together.  Between his work schedule and the kids, we don't often have time alone.  I think it was close to 1230 by the time we went to bed, which is super late for me!  I was exhausted, more than a little tipsy, but very content.  Have I told you how much I love my husband?  He is the most wonderful man I have ever met.  Everyone loves Greg, but somehow (I truly don't know how) I am the one lucky enough to be loved by him.  We fell asleep instantly, cuddled  together, completely relaxed, and without a worry on our minds.  I don't remember the last time I slept so well...until about 4 a.m. when I woke up with one of the worst headaches I've had in a long time!  The headache was short lived, though.  Some chia seeds, a banana and some Motrin took care of the hangover.  The fun we had the night before was well worth the little bit of hangover in the morning.

Today we went to mass together.  I didn't always find comfort in the church, but since finding Father Gardner, his ease with the parish and his gift at relating the gospel so poignantly to everyday life, I have enjoyed mass.  I especially like it when we can all go together.  It adds a special touch being able to sit in the comfort of the church with my family beside me.

After church, Greg took Andrew to a friend's house for a while and I ran 4 miles in under 40 minutes.  It wasn't fast, but it was the farthest I have gone since returning from my hip issue.  The weather here today was simply gorgeous.  I love this time of year, and I really love running in the cooler weather.  For me, running isn't just about the exercise, it's about the entire sensory experience, mind and body.  Today gave me simply perfect conditions.  Despite the hangover, I felt great.  I felt powerful.   A good deal of my route was up hill, another thing I love.  Don't get me wrong, down hill is easier (well, if it's a slight down grade it's easier.  Steep down grades are actually really hard on my knees), but up hill gives me that runner's high I crave.  Not a light-headed, "dude, that was awesome" kind of high, but the high where I feel like I champion because I conquered something difficult.  The doubts I have been having about whether or not I will be ready for the marathon come May disappeared today.  I felt secure, confident and happy.  I could have run further, and I almost did, except that little voice of reason, which most times is no where to be found when I need it, told me to take it slow.  When I got home, I stretched, iced, took naproxen and waited for the pain to set in.  Amazingly, the pain has been minimal.  It's noticeable, for sure.  I'm not 100% yet, but it wasn't excruciating.  I was able to sit and then stand the rest of the day without limping.  That's a good sign.  I'm ready for another run tomorrow!

I also took a nap today! I love naps.  I have been an avid napper since I can remember, but I haven't been able to nap since I changed positions at work.  Today I thought I would just lay down for a short time while Andrew slept.  My alarm went off and I turned it off.  I thought I would just lay there for a few more minutes until he got up, so I closed my eyes.  What I thought was only seconds later I heard him calling me over the monitor.  I looked at the clock and 90 minutes had passed!  Holy cats! And I was still in the exact same position as I was when I laid down!  Now that was an awesome nap!

My in-laws had a Steeler party today.  Andrew and I walked to their house after our naps and spent some time with family.  We had some good laughs, as always.  After the party, we visited my parents again for a bit and then headed home.  Greg was at the neighbor's house.   Andrew just adores my neighbor.  She's so sweet to him.  When we stopped the car to talk to Greg, Andrew yelled for Sharon and then asked if he could stay with her for a while.  We visited with them for a bit  before heading home and getting ready for bed.

Now Andrew is asleep, and I'm just drinking a beer and blogging, waiting for Greg to come home.  What a sweet weekend.  Absolutely no stress, lots of good laughs, lots of feel-good contentment, and almost two full days of being very aware of and grateful for the blessings in my life.  In light of the stress that I have been feeling lately, I really needed this weekend.  Oh, and another great thing - my mom is going to take the boys to Pittsburgh for a trip to the pumpkin patch this weekend.  This is great for the boys, because they missed out on the pumpkin patch visit earlier this month.  They'll have a blast with my niece.  It's also great for Greg and I because not only is Greg off next weekend, but it's also our anniversary.  I only work a half of a day on Friday and Greg is off completely.  We will have the afternoon just to ourselves, no kids, no work, nothing but each other.  Friday night we are going out with my sister and brother in law, two of our favorite people, and with no obligations on Saturday now, our options for the next day are wide open!

I wish I could keep things like this forever.  I know that isn't possible, but nonetheless, I'm feeling very good right now, and I plan to hold on to this emotion for as long as I can.  This truly is a sweet season and I am very, very grateful.  

How to Evade a Mid-life Crisis

At lunch the other day I was talking to some of my coworkers about how ugly we feel.  Skewing the obvious self-depreciation issues at hand, it actually was a fairly comical conversation.  I won’t speak for my coworkers and what they see as their own personal flaws, but I can tell you some of what I voiced. Lately I'm hating my huge, shiny forehead with its lovely brown age spots. I also don't care for the lovely crow’s feat radiating from the outside corners of my eyes.   Then there’s my teeth. Although they have remained amazingly healthy and fairly white, thanks to good genetics and Crest White Strips (which I do about once every 18months-2years), I still take issue with that one bucked tooth.  Just one, mind you.  It’s from 12 years of sucking my index finger.  That index finger is actually deformed too, and has a touch of arthritis in it, but that’s neither here nor there.  My hands are certainly not youthful anymore, but they aren’t a point of discontent for me…yet.  I have also been noticing in photos that the skin around my neck and face is getting loose.  I don’t quite have a double chin yet, but it’s coming – sooner rather than later.  Then of course, there's the long standing obsession with my pitiful chest.   There aren’t many women who have a worse looking chest than mine.  

I'm not too wild about the "bingo wings" I have developed in recent years either.  A coworker told me that is what her daughter calls that unsightly flap of skin hanging from your tricep that keeps on waving long after you have stopped.  You know, the kind the old women who play bingo use to clear their opponents cards so they can win the prize! To avoid this awful flapping, I have started waving with just my hand, kind of like Miss America.  Hey, if it makes me feel like a princess, then it’s worth it! 

Speaking of fat flaps, there is nothing nice to say about my stomach.  My mother was always very thin as a young woman.  It wasn’t until recently that she started to put on weight.  I remember her telling me that one day she was driving and she felt like there was something on her lap.  She looked down and realized that it was her stomach!  Oh my god!  Please don’t let that happen to me! My stomach isn’t sitting on my lap yet (neither is hers, she exaggerates just like I do!) but it certainly is getting thicker.  10 years ago, I never went anywhere in public without holding my gut in.  That was pre-babies and although I didn't know it at the time, it was certainly a pre-"needing to suck it in" stage of life.  Yes, I held in a gut that I didn’t even have!  Now, when I truly need to be sucking in that gut, I don’t.  I think about sucking it in, but then I just don't bother.  It's too much effort. 

The rest of me I don’t really care about.  My behind and legs have always been bulky, and I have come to terms with my thunder thighs.  I’m a runner.  My legs are strong, and my calves would put yours to shame.  So there!  

Of these things I don’t like about myself, most of them are newer body image issues.  I mean, I’ve always been terribly critical of myself, but in the last two or three years, it’s gotten really bad.  I like getting older for many, many reasons, but I don’t like looking older.  

So, am I entering a mid-life crisis?  Well, probably not really.  I mean, technically I’m not mid-life…(what age is mid-life, anyway?  If life expectancy is 75, then hell, I’m not that far off, actually!) And I can't say that I'm so distraught that I want to go completely wacko...maybe I'm already completely wacko, and I realize that there isn't much further to go!  Crisis or not, I’m certainly not feeling super perky about my less than perky appearance.  The question then is, what do I do about it?  If men have affairs and buy sports cars to ease their mid-life calamities, then what do women do? I can tell you this – I would never have an affair, for many reasons, but the main reason is simply that I love my husband.  He is one thing that I definitely have going right in my life.  And, I just got a new car, so I a new Ferrari isn’t all that appealing either.  I need some kind of pick me up, though.  What’s a girl to do?!  Here are my options:

1.  Plastic surgery.  Lots of it.  Implants, liposuction, botox, the works.  (Don't have the money for this.  Plus, I can't even stand to think of what would happen to my house while I recovered.  And what if it was terribly botched and I ended up looking worse than I do now.)  Plastic surgery. 

2.  Alcohol.  Lots of it.  Beer, wine, tequila, the works.  (This one is a possibility, but only on occasion.  I'm a lightweight, and I'm a wimp when it comes to hangovers) Alcohol. 

3.  A new wardrobe.  Pants, shirts, dresses, bras that fit right, underwear that doesn't have holes, and cute shoes. New clothes will make me feel pretty again.  (First of all, I work in social services, so I have no money.  Second of all, I hate shopping.  In fact, it usually makes me feel worse about my body, especially when I am buying pants and bras.  The shoes, on the other hand, might just be a safe bet.)  A new wardrobe  (but keep the shoes).

4.  Star on a make over show.  Get money for a new wardrobe, fashion advice from pros and tips on how to fix my hair and give myself eyebrows.  (No one will nominate me.  I've begged over and over.  Plus, I really don't want to know how to fix my hair.  I like pony tails just fine, and if I had a hair style, then I would have to actually get my hair cut more than once a year. )  Star on a make over show.

5.  Make Greg fat so that I feel better about my own body.  Don't get me wrong, he's sexy as can be, but maybe I'd feel just a little better if he had a nice spare tire to match mine.  I'm not striking this one out.  It's a real possibility.  (Note to self - buy more ice cream)

6.  Run away somewhere to an island paradise and forget all my worries.  (Hmm...tempting, but there's that little issue of the two little kiddos I have to take care of and paying my bills.) Run away. 


7. Hang out with my long time girl friends and get back in touch with my roots.  Yes, this one is without a doubt a keeper.  Girls, let's schedule a get together soon!  I need your honesty, your humor and your tequila with salt and lemon would be a nice touch too! 

 8.  Change my perspective.  Grow old gracefully.  Accept the changes my body is going through and view them as a blessing rather than a curse. The spots on my forehead are reminders of glorious days in the warmth of the sun.  Each line around my eye bears testimony to many smiles and much laughter, the company of good friends and beloved family.  The padding on my middle is a sign of health and nourishment.  My saggy breasts gave sustenance to my two incredible children.  Every day that I am alive these "flaws" will become incrementally worse.  I'm going to get more wrinkles and thicken more around the middle.  But each new wrinkle, just like each new day, is after all, a gift from God.  Only with this beautifully aging vessel that He gave me can I fully experience and enjoy the world around me.  Instead of fighting it, I should nurture it, and show gratitude instead of disdain for the hard work I put this body through.  This, surely is the best and most sensible option.  If it were only as easy to believe it as it is to say it! 

Yep.  I guess I need to work on changing my perspective. Oh, and get that ice cream for Greg...and a few new pairs of shoes for myself can't hurt either!

"I am the soft stars that shine at night"

Twice a day, every week day for the last 6 years, I have driven past the entrance to the cemetery where my grandmothers are buried.  I rarely go in, because, frankly, I get no comfort whatsoever from visiting graves.  The person isn't there.  It's just like standing by a rock with the person's name on it.  I know people who find great comfort in having a place to visit.  I just personally don't get it.  It's not only that I don't feel comfort, I also don't feel sad.  In fact, I don't feel anything at all.  It's like I enter a complete emotional vacuum and become devoid of any emotional connection.  

This morning, I was quite surprised when I found myself make the turn into the cemetery instead of driving past.  It was as if someone else had taken the wheel and turned my car.  Before I knew it, there I was, driving to her graveside.  Being that I was already there, I decided to get out of the car.  There have been plenty of times in the past when I just did a "drive by" visit.  "Hey, Gram.  How ya doing?  Just wanted to say hello!"  Seriously.  How bad is that?!  I have been feeling her pull on me lately, so I thought perhaps today would be different.  Perhaps today I would go to her grave and be overwhelmed by a sense of serenity, feel the warmth of her love wrap around me and reassure me that indeed everything would be OK.  Maybe today would be the day that I would say, "Ah.   Now I understand why people visit gravesides."  

Nope.  Not today.  I stood there, in the cool morning air, my feet freezing and wet with bits of freshly cut grass sticking to my shoes and felt, once again, absolutely nothing at all.  I bent down and wiped the grass from her name plate. 

Still nothing.  I felt vacant.  Empty.  A pointless venture into the depths of Calvary Cemetery.  And as always happens in that emotional void, my mind began to wander to some pretty morbid thoughts.  The progression was something like this:

 After 23 years, I imagine that there is nothing left of her in the casket except bones.

 Do bones decay too?  Ashes to ashes, dust to dust...surely they do, but I bet it takes a good deal longer for the bones.  I wonder how long it takes bones to decay.  I wonder what the atmosphere of the coffin does to the decay process.

 Then I notice the weather beaten silk flowers on her grave.  At least there isn't a bird in the flowers.  She hated birds (Me too!)  Once my grandfather's wife put a Christmas wreath on her grave with birds in it.  Stupid ugly birds.

 So I wonder who put these flowers here, and I know that it had to be either my grandfather or his current wife.  OK, they've been married for 22 years now.  I guess I can stop calling her "his current wife."  I think the marriage is going to last.

 This is when I feel a pang of sadness - thinking of my grandfather's current wife.  She's been nothing but nice to us for as long as she's been a part of the family, but I was never able to get past the fact that he married another woman.  It's always a little strange, a bit of unspoken tension, the wrong woman at his side.

 But back to the grave...at least someone put flowers on her grave, right?  I certainly didn't. I'm terribly negligent in that respect.  I don't think my mom visits the grave often either, but I don't know for sure.  We don't talk about it.

  I don't want to be buried.  It's a colossal waste of space, money and energy.  Cremate me, please, or better yet, wrap my body in cheesecloth and bury me in a green cemetery where I can actually be reabsorbed into the ground and help a poor farmer grow some awesome tomatoes some day!  Hey, if I'm useless in life, maybe I can at least  be put to good use in death.

  I'm going to be late for work, so I walk back through the cold and wet grass to my car and proceed with my drive to work.  It's in the car that the sadness hits.  I think again about those flowers, and of my grandfather, of how much I know he loved her, of how I have seen him get choked up talking about her in recent years.  I wonder what they were like as a young couple.  What were they like as young parents? Was she head over heels in love with him at one point?  Did she watch him opening presents with the kids on Christmas morning and feel an overwhelming sense of contentment - you know, the kind that only lasts about 2 minutes before the kids start beating each other up and reality hits you in the face?  Did she have that?  I bet she did.  It would be so nice to hear her version of her life story.

Then I think the rest of the day about my gram.  My sweet gram.  The only person who loved me 100% for me, faults and all.  Crazy woman.  Did all kinds of goofy things after she had her stroke when I was 8.  Was she crazy like that before the stroke too?  I have heard how fun she was, how she made everyone feel comfortable, gathered everyone near, how she always spoke her mind.  Do I have any of her personality?  Gram, my first true love.  How I miss her.

I don't know that I believe in an afterlife.  I pray.  I ask for guidance.  I want to believe, but my faith frequently falls short.  I don't find comfort in knowing that she is still with me in spirit, or that she is waiting for me in Heaven, because I'm just not so sure.  I find what comfort I can in the memories I have.  I see her still in the ocean waves every summer.  I hear her when I talk to my Aunt Carmen.   I channel her when I back into a parking space or eat peanut butter ice cream.  I see her in the stars on a crisp autumn night, and I find great joy in remembering the times we spent together.   I catch glimpses of what used to be in what is now.  As I thought about her today, I thought of this poem:

Do not stand at my grave and weep 

I am not there. 
I do not sleep. 
I am a thousand winds that blow. 
I am the diamond glints on snow. 
I am the sunlight on ripened grain. 
I am the gentle autumn rain. 
When you awaken in the morning's hush 
I am the swift uplifting rush 
Of quiet birds in circled flight. 
I am the soft stars that shine at night. 
Do not stand at my grave and cry; 
I am not there. 
I did not die. 


In spirit or not, I suppose she is still here with me.  As they say, she's in my heart.  Excluding a diagnosis of Alzheimer's, her memories will live on as long as I do. 


And how fitting was it that when Greg and I took the boys to the Meadows for ice cream tonight the flavor of the day was peanut butter.  Yep.  She's here, hand on my shoulder, asking if she can "just trim up the edges of my cone for me so it doesn't dribble."  Hey Gram, at 35, I'm on to you.  Get your own cone.

My Budding Author

After school yesterday, Jacob wrote volume one of his newest series, "Sam the Cat."  The first book is appropriately entitled, "Sam the Cat #1: The First Night."  

It's a multi-chapter book that begins as such:

Chapter 1

The New Kitten

"We arrived at my mom's friend's house and picked up a little kitten we named Sam.  We rode home with the cat.  He struggled and walked in the car.  I was starting to like this kitten myself, but could he survive Andrew?  I could hope."

Chapter 2

Trouble

"So we went in the house and Sam found out the only problem.  Andrew found out about the cat."

Chapter 3

Greg Meets the Cat

"I went to tell Greg about the cat.  He was filleting fish, so he came in and we played with the cat."

That's where he inserted this lovely picture of me (note the arrow) yelling, "Andrew stop that!" while Andrew (note the other arrow) is hitting the kitten:

Chapter 4

Bed Time

"So we set up Sam's bedroom and he curls up and goes to sleep."  

The End.

I don't know about all of you, but I found this to be a gripping and poignant tale about the love between a young boy and his cat, markedly contrasted by the darkness lurking inside the younger brother.  Will the cat survive?  One can only hope.

Compelling.  Spellbinding.  A book you won't want to put down!  I can't wait for the next edition!