Random Muses of Megret

Ken and I had some laughs this weekend when the hype exploded over the impending ice and/or snow that had been forecasted for our area. I don't know if it's just in the South (probably so), but there is this major hysteria when ice or even freezing rain is predicted. People go into Y2K mode all over again, scurrying all over town to buy bottled water, electric generators, and.... "Gotta get bread and milk! I'm outta bread....and oh, I'm outta milk, too! C'mon, honey, let's go to Wal-Mart!" I don't know how or why people think that bread and milk alone will carry them through an icy weekend with no power or heat. I mean, what do you do with those two ingredients? Have a bread sandwich with a glass of milk? (nobody ever says, "Oh, I gotta get some sandwich meats, too, for the bread!") I have to admit, Southern cornbread mushed up in a big glass of milk is delicious and filling....but white bread? Or even whole wheat....yuk.

So, in order to broaden our cultural horizons (and to convince myself that there are still people out in the world who appreciate good music and talented musicianship), my parents, Ken, Gardner and I all trekked to a Robert Burns' Birthday Celebration last night. There was a very talented duo (entitled "Castlebay" ) who performed his verse in music and spoken form, all with added humor and sarcasm, both of which I know Burns carried a lot of himself, as you can tell by his ramblings. So....my dad, nonetheless, came fully dressed in Highland garb. Mom needn't fear that we would be the only family with a historically accurate companion....the walk into the room revealed two more kilted men. And the most handsome amongst them all was my own infant son.... That's right, Gardner came donned in the kilt that Dad recently handcrafted for him...that paired with his little woolen, ivory sweater and ivory socks made him look completely authentic. The little bit of r

This past weekend started off with a bang, then ended with a small whisper. This was mainly due to the fact that my son received his 4-month vaccinations at his check-up on Friday, and by 4:00pm that day, he was dealing with a high fever and not having much fun at all. Needless to say, I stayed in the rest of the weekend since he would not have been an ideal traveling companion, with hot head and bouts of tears whenever I picked him up and accidently handled his sore legs too much. :0( Ken, Gardner, and I went to Greenville Friday morning after the pediatrician's visit, seeing as they were calling for sleet and freezing rain on Saturday (yeah right, I know, but one of these days the weatherman's cry-wolf warnings will slam us silly....you can't be too cautious). We spent the afternoon at EarthFare, perusing through aisle after aisle of wheat-free, dairy-free, sugar-free, hormone-free, and pesticide-free merchandise, all of which is FAR from being free price-wis

Every day I go over in my head the reasons why I decided to become a stay-at-home mom...instead of working or, what my true passion was 1-1/2 years ago, to pursue a graduate degree in psychological counseling. There are days when my decision is firm and unwavering....this is my calling, I wouldn't be satisfied doing anything else. And other days when I lose my purpose, pity myself, and become envious of others who appear more powerful or influential (or better off in the pocketbook). I used to feel incredibly guilty over this conflict that battles within me, yet I know now from talking to other women in my situation that it is something with which every young mother struggles at some point. Still, I am trying to get away from being one who justifies and makes excuses for faults in my personality and character, and so I will not try to do that in this area of my life more than any other. There is one remedy that reminds me see how the choice I made is the right choice for m

A very late and somewhat frustrating trip to Walgreens last night, but it was so worth it. My mom and her sisters are busy planning a "surprise" birthday party for my Grandma Sightler's 80th birthday party on the 29th. She probably just assumes we'll take her out to eat and sing. Yet she will be surprised when she arrives at the restaurant and finds all 50 some-odd family members and family friends there to celebrate her life alongside her. We are all anxious to see her reaction. My Walgreens trip was so that I could make digital photograph copies of old snapshots I had collected of her. I had two of her as a young baby and girl, one of she and Grandpa during their "courting" era, and of course, her elegant wedding portrait. I had borrowed all of the originals in 2002 as I prepared a selection of historical family vignettes in order to grace my hallway with memories. As I fought with the tempermental scanning machine, Ken offering his expertise

Yes, it's official, Ken and I (and many of our friends) are really addicted to this phenomenal show on television called "Lost." Silly as others may think that it is, all have to agree that the plots can be pretty compelling. The only thing that is frustrating is that, as Ken pointed out, there are more questions brought up in each episode than there are questions answered. How frustrating.... But that's what keeps their viewers coming back, and they know it (the producers, I mean). So anyway, to celebrate episode 12's airing (I think it's 12) last night, we had an informal "Lost" party of sorts. We got together some friends and all hung out, making biscotti and drinking coffee, and gluing ourselves to the screen as the plot (somewhat) unfolded. The thing that made us part of the "madness" is that we went all out by dressing up as our favorite characters. Ken was Jack, donning a white tee and jeans, scruffy face, medicine bot

So I bathed our two cats today for the first time since before I was expecting Gardner (I couldn't stand the smell of their shampoo during the early months, and thereafter, I was too large and round to bend over the bathtub!). They were not as tempermental and difficult as I'd predicted, seeing as it HAD been over a year since I had dunked them under. Bathtub filled up to about six inches, I let them stand and let out long, angry meows as I poured water over them with a cup, then scrubbed them with my fingernails with flea shampoo. Every now and then I'd have to tighten my grip as they tried to dart up and out of the tub. Gardner sat behind me in his little seat, wide-eyed as he heard the cries of each unhappy feline. Finally, somewhat clean and hopefully rinsed thoroughly, the cats were ready to be let out. I finagled the towels around them as much as I could; about 30 seconds' worth of towel drying was all they'd allow. I dumped each one into the stud

Seen the ads on TV promoting California dairy...about the happy cows? Seems as if members of PETA have, too (see link). After reading anything like this, it's enough to make us animal lovers scurry off to buy soy milk and prance around in front of grocery stores with picket signs. I find it so funny that people will always find something to bring out and "expose." Now, in my case, I happened upon a very, very emotion-inducing book entitled "Fast Food Nation." I read it two summers ago, kleenex box in hand, slamming it down repeatedly in anger only to find my curiosity begging me to pick it up again and keep reading. This book really will make you think twice about ordering anything from a fast food joint, drinking milk, or even breathing. But what exactly prompts someone to write a book like this? Will it revolutionize the world's way of eating? Not until the people who choose to turn the other way and ignore reality cease to exist. In our

Well, Ken's fish who unexplainedly passed away on Christmas Eve was replaced last Friday with two very boisterous tropical fish. We named them affectionately... James Pond and Jaws, in honor of the movies we both so adore. We were certain that James Pond ("Jim") was a male, because the pet expert at the store told us so. But we were not quite clear as to the gender of the black molly, Jaws. Well, Saturday night brought us the realization that Jaws was a "she." I peered into the bubbly tank with Gardner in my arms, his eyes wide with wonder at the lit panorama before him. I frantically darted my head to the side, then to the other side. "Fish babies!" I squealed. Ken came running. Indeed, the black molly had, in a matter of an hour or two, managed to "give birth" to five little 1/4" mini fish! I was so confused...I thought all fish laid eggs. Huh. By the time we went to bed that night, there were 8, and Sunday morning,