Too. Much. Driving.

You know, I probably wouldn't care so much about how many miles I have driven in the past month if I wasn't always taking the exact same route. For example, if I was driving across the country to somewhere new, mileage? Not such a big deal because I don't see the same scenery over. and over. and over. And I tell you what, that stretch from Cincinnati to Columbus on I-71 gets flatter and more boring every time you drive it.

When I came back to my family's house yesterday (Friday) I discovered all sorts of things had been moved around, Anne is sorting through videos and cleaned up the basement and organized the linen closet... and she intends to dispose of most of the VHS films we have, including all of the Disney stuff! So I''m going home with all kinds of movies after all this.

However, it's also rather disheartening, especially when Anne explained why she was doing it.
"Well, you know, Dad's probably going to sell the house in a year or so..."

Wait, what?

I've almost always lived in this house. I grew up in this house. I LOVE this house. Dad not live here??? Seriously? We haven't even had grandkids for him yet!

I cannot imagine my dad NOT living in this old house. We've done so much work on it, repainted both the inside and outside, recently bought new furniture including a new chair and trundle beds, have more books than could ever be counted... if he moves, he'll move into an apartment or duplex or something, and most likely will have to sell or give away most of the furniture and a lot of the stuff because it just won't fit in an apartment. And boy, did that make me sad. After my grandfather died in 1984, my grandma held onto her house and lived in it alone all the way up until I was halfway through high school. Which would mean she kept it for a good 18 years. But Dad will sell a mere year after? I just don't know. I don't know if I can handle that, and if he moves I don't know how often I'd come to visit anymore. It would be so strange and weird. Where would we have Christmas as a family? Would Dad travel to us? How would we visit with all our kids someday and all fit into his hypothetical apartment?

I know I'm getting a bit ahead of myself, but quite honestly this whole concept makes me heart hurt. I don't even really want to think about it, but I really can't help it. If I lived around here and could buy the house and live in it myself I... no, actually I wouldn't. That would be really strange, I don't think I could handle sleeping next to my husband in my parent's old room. Ick. Weird. I'd feel like I have to call Dad anytime I wanted to change something and get his permission before just doing it.

Anywho, I just spent the day with my cousins eating Chipotle (which they have never had before... those CT people are SO depraved) and Tom's Ice Cream and watching old home videos again. My cousin Sara was in many of them because she always came to hang with us when we'd visit. They all leave first thing tomorrow so it was nice to spend the day with them.

Tomorrow (Sunday) is February 13th. It is also known as Johnny's and my eight month anniversary. :D He actually wanted to go to Chipotle tomorrow, but we kinda already went and I cannot handle two days in a row so now I get to think of a new restaurant. It also helps that this will be the day before Valentine's so we can kinda mix the two together.

Emmanuel the Mardstrel

So, a few months ago a friend of mine posted a status asking about another word for a bard, which led to us coming up with a whole new word and a story line and I told her I'd write the story, she could illustrate. She is, after all, a fine artist. Here is my work in progress, copyright Emily Blood 2010, and we hope to make it into a children's book someday. Enjoy!!

I went to the village one lovely fall day
To visit the potter and trade eggs in for clay
In the midst of the hustle I saw a face
I had ne'er seen in three leagues of this place.
"That's Emmanuel the Mardstrel", the potter said with a grin
"They can't keep him out so they just let him in!"
"What's a mardstrel?" I asked as we both watched on
"Why it's a bard and a minstrel all rolled into one!
He plays strings with his fingers, has bells on his toes
And wreaks havoc in every village he goes!"


In the town of Grand Bugsby, the potter began
The mardstrel decided he wanted a tan.
He broke into houses and stole all the lamps
To lie under in the square without any pants.
In Hansen last summer, the potter went on,
He decided they needed less brains and more brawn
So he burned down the school, the church and the bridge
'Cos smarter folks live on the opposite ridge.


Just as he finished the potter stopped short
And looked toward the square with an angry snort
Quick as a flash he had knocked the bard flat!
"Get out of this town and never come back!
We don't need your help, this town is just fine,
So spare us your mischief or I'll break your spine!"



Aaaaaannnnd that's all I've got. Still a work in progress. :)

Whoa Yarn!!

I finally got up the energy to completely unpack and organize. As my best friend is coming for her first ever visit to my apartment on Thursday (SO EXCITED!!!!) I kind of wanted it to be done and organized and looking nice and not like I just came back from a three week sojourn to New Concord.

The Sunday before I went home for those three weeks, a couple I'm friends with gave me this set of metal do-it-yourself cube shelves. Till today they just sat in a Sam's Club reusable grocery bag next to my tv. Then I had a stroke of genius.

So. Much. Yarn.

When I worked at the Friendship Preschool and Daycare I spent nap time crocheting blankets and hats... anything to keep my knees warm in that freezing cold room. So the administrator gave me two enormous boxes of yarn that used to belong to her late mother. More yarn than I will EVER use.

Hey, anyone want some yarn? There's more where this came from!

Someday I should probably get around to actually finishing something... There's half a scarf I promised Dad three years ago still waiting to be finished... Sorry Dad!

In any case, thank you thank you Jim and Angie for giving me these shelves! It made my apartment more colorful and gave me a place to put my planters from the funeral. AND for my twinkle lights!

Today kinda sucked. But doing this actually made my night. :)

I'm Too Tired for Titles.

I care so much about the Super Bowl that I made a point of driving the 2.5 hour trip back to Cincinnati just when it was going on. Yup. It's that big of a deal to me.

I'm "home" now. Most of my stuff is unpacked but I have more clothes than I will ever have room for so tomorrow after work I get to organize my closet. Again. And then repack four days later for a weekend trip back to good ole nc.

Somehow all of this is easier when I'm with my family. Then it feels as though we're just waiting for Mom to come back from vacation. Now I have to deal with the reality of going back to work and paying bills and all of that nonsense without the periodical updates from Dad about when Mom's next treatment is or a text from Mom asking for help creating a group for her contacts on her phone. When I lived in Connecticut sometimes I would call home and have long conversations with my Mom about cooking and coupons and phones and work and life in general.

It's so much easier to pretend she's on vacation.

During my drive, once I got bored of music, I allowed my mind to slowly build, piece by piece, topic by topic, chapter by chapter, the book I am now determined to write. It will be a long haul, involving lots of emails overseas and to my relatives and Mom's friends and outlining and writing and revising and finding someone to publish it for me and whatever else it takes to write a book. Quite honestly, I don't care much if it sells. I just want to share my beautiful mother with the world and also fulfill my lifelong goal of publishing a book. I will need support from all of you, my wonderful readers. Help me keep on writing!

Anyway, I really hope that as time goes on sleeping actually grants me rest. Till then, I get to wake up at 5:30am for work for the first time in three and a half weeks. Wish me luck!