I Never Do This...

...but I am today.

I have only asked for prayers / woo-woo / good thoughts on a friend's behalf once before on this blog. I'm not talking about the think-good-thoughts stuff I send out now and again about the kids, like when Leanna got her tonsils out. I'm talking about the big stuff.

Picture taken from Wikipedia Commons

I'm talking about last weekend's mudslide in Oso, WA.

I knew about it, of course; you could hardly miss it.

We got nice emails from family members in other states asking if we were okay (Snohomish County is about 55 miles from top to bottom and we're at opposite borders, but they didn't know that).

I heard about it over and over again on the news, especially as our local public radio station is having their pledge drive this week.

It was tragic, and a tiny bit creepy, a la Mt St Helens 34 years ago this May. But it didn't touch me, as I don't know anyone who lives or works up there, so I was a step removed, you know?

Or so I thought.

Don't get me wrong, my friends who do live up there - I always thought of it as Darrington rather than Oso, and the last time I saw them on their own turf was over ten years ago, so it did not connect for me - they're fine. The leading edge of the slide brushed their driveway but their house is safe.

But that's when it hit home for me. These friends, who have been very close friends in times past and now are friends we see a couple times a year, have lost neighbors. Their teenage kids have lost friends. They're helping with Search and Rescue in their own backyard.

So if you have any spare woo-woo, or prayers, or even good thoughts, send it up Oso way for me, would you?

The _____ makes me _____

Have you ever played Cards Against Humanity? Or Apples to Apples? The first is like a rated R - or even X - version of the second. Most of the words themselves are okay, but the combinations are absolutely terrible. And hilarious to the point where - once again - I needed my asthma inhaler from laughing so hard.  When the least offensive answer to the "What's that smell?" card is the name of a political party, it's a pretty bad situation.

I loved every minute of it, and my ribs still ache from laughing so hard, almost 48 hours later.

We didn't play with the kids in the room, of course, which decision was made simple, because Abby had a friend Angie over for a sleepover in her room, and Lizzy had Nat, elder daughter of two of our best gaming friends, with whom (and two more friends as well) we were making such terrible combinations as Q: "Why am I sticky?" A: "Muscular thighs" in the dining room. And worse.

Far, far worse.

Anyway, Nat's parents and baby sister and the other two friends left around eleven, and we got down to the serious business of sleepovers. Which for the older two - 11yo Abby and nearly-nine Angie - doesn't actually involve sleeping. For Nat (7.5) and Lizzy (6.5) it does involve actual sleep, but for about half as long as they actually need. Which is why we had zombies at breakfast: And how one child (Angie) accidentally bought a movie on our cable, because she just kept clicking OK. Laston told her and Abby that they'd have to pay him back the $4.99 and while I'm not certain whether he simply intended to put the fear of God into them so it wouldn't happen again, Angie at lest took him seriously. This is important later in this post.

Poor Lizzy kept complaining that there was no-one to feed her and her arms were too tired to lift them. So after the other girls went home (Nat's parents came to pick her up but Angie lives close enough that Abby could walk her home), we ran some errands, which resulted in this about halfway through:

And then today, we got up late - sleeping off the Sleepover Hangover - and did laundry and cooking and my schoolwork and packed for Abby's camp next week. At one point my mom took Abby to get some rain boots for said camp, and Angie came in to sk if she and Lizzy could start a lemonade stand. Um... okay, if you have some lemonade. Well, Angie's mom has Kool-Aid, and I have sugar and a pitcher, and they sat outside selling Kool-Aid all day, for ten cents a cup. I gather that Angie wants to use her share to pay Laston for the oops-bought-a-movie. I wonder if he'll accept it.

Not Sure About This Growing Up Thing

So Abby is going to Fifth Grade Camp in a couple of weeks. I'm not worried about the epi-pen; the school nurse will be there. I'm not worried about her safety or anything like that... she's done this enough times that the reflexive oh-crap-she-might-eat-a-nut thoughts are few and far between.

We bought her a new sleeping bag (she has a really good one her dad bought, but it lives at the house she shares with him and he's out of town). And I was looking at the list of things they need to pack and on the list was deodorant.

Now, I am fully aware that she's eleven, and that these things happen to eleven-year-olds all the time (although I didn't need deodorant or a bra or anything else until I was thirteen, this post notwithstanding), but deodorant is a required item on the packing list.

I'm going to assume that's for parents who aren't aware that their kids are stinky. I checked. Abby's not.

Lizzy sometimes is, but she's Bouncy McGee and it's a different kind of stink anyway.

Anyway, now I have to buy deodorant for my eleven-year-old. Sheesh. And for those of you who feel this is an intrusion into parenting and an unfair cultural norm, well... you're right. But I remember the kid (we were in seventh grade, not fifth, but still) who nobody liked because she had such a terrible body odor. I don't want my kid to be that kid, and I don't feel strongly enough about this sub-topic to fight it, so I'll follow the rule.

Just yesterday (well, last week) she was doing cartwheels in front of QFC and trying to multiply by fours on the fly.

Dang. Feeling old now.

Please Try Our Cookies

Miz Liz and Miss Leanna stayed at home with dad today while Abby and I had our second foray into cookie site sales for the season. But first we got our nails done. Abby's thumbnails are too small for the Girl Scout logo, but mine aren't.

Same sales partners (but we were all in a better mood this time) and a better venue, I think. Abby made up a couple new songs:

Girl Scout Cookies, Girl Scout Cookies,
Eat 'em by the bunch, eat 'em by the bunch,
They are good for breakfast, they are good for dinner,
And for lunch, and for lunch.

And her Girl Scout take on the LEGO Movie:

Everything is awesome! Everything is cool when you sell as a team!
Everything is awesome, when we're eating our dream.

And the one from last year:

Cookie time, when the Girl Scouts are busy,
Cookie time, in the spring of the year,
Cookie time, when the Scouts sell their cookies,
Cookie time, it's just once every year.

So, folks, remember: 

What a Week Already!

Haven't been blogging much, because I am blogging for a living, and I just don't feel like it when I get home from work. I had planned on blogging last night but... well... keep reading.

I'm home today, because what with one thing and another, nobody feels very well. Nothing dire this time, I promise; just late-winter cold symptoms plus... well... keep reading.

Customer's house matches
her coat!

Thank you for supporting
the Girl Scouts
of Western Washington!

Saturday Abby and I spent Being Girl Scouts. We delivered to several preorders and then spent two hours outside a Safeway with a sister scout selling cookies. It was cold and damp and the end of the day and quite honestly, I think the girls held up better than the supervising moms did! They get squirrelly by the end of a site sale, but the parents just get cranky when we have to recount the money again because our fingers are cold and stiff.

Sunday was nice.

Monday was acceptable. For a Monday. But everyone has the sniffles now.

The canteen
makes the
soldier.

And then there was Tuesday. It's good to start, although Lizzy feels like crap apparently. She makes it to school in the afternoon but she spent the whole morning exhausted on Grandma's couch. Cold, growth spurt, fatigue, who knows. She still looks kind of wiped out and a little pale when we head to Abby's play. The fifth grade at Abby's school is putting on The Adventures of Lewis and Clark - The Musical and Abby is Soldier #1. It was cute, and really funny in spots (Clark was particularly hilarious) and touching in others (the Native Americans singing "This is Our Home," especially). At one point the lights faded and the microphones cut out for a moment, but it's windy, so no big deal.

And then I get a text from my mom (on silent; I'm a responsible audience member, but I notice because my phone is out taking that picture up there. No more pictures; I don't post other kids' pix without parental permission) saying that the power is out. After the play I get a call from +Laston Kirkland saying the road is blocked off and he can't get home.

Terrific.

After several phone calls back and forth, Laston gets home, and tells me to tell the firefighters blocking the road what road we live on, so they'll let us through. Turns out someone took out a power pole (which in turn took out some others on either side) and we have live wires down on the main drag near our road but not on it. Lovely.

Lizzy's still not used to sleeping without her sisters, at least not in the dark, and so Laston goes to bed and the three girls (me, Liz, and Abbs) in residence tonight sack out on the couch together. Which means I sleep on one recliner end with Lizzy drooling down my neck).

Power comes back on at 7:40 this morning, but we're staying home with the now-worsened sniffles. No sense in getting everyone else sick, right? I expect we'll spend the day watching Sofia the First and Doc McStuffins (hey, at least we've moved on from Blue's Clues) and finally assembling Lizzy's headboard.

Mushroom meatballs over rice for dinner, honey.