Scarlet Letters

This has proven much more difficult to write than I anticipated, probably because this is the hardest decision I have ever had to make. Harder than the decision to leave Memphis and my career in the arts in order to pursue a life in journalism. Harder than the decision to divorce my first husband, the father of my child. And I'm not one to take a leap without considering all the options, so you'd best believe that I have discussed this with Jim, with my parents, with close friends, with mentors. Probably until they were tired of talking about it with me. I have dithered and stalled, because once I post this, it's final. It's real. I'm leaving the newspaper. With that decision ends 21 years in daily journalism. Wow, that was hard to type. And I haven't even done it yet. Please click here to check out my new site and all the details about this amazing new journey I'm about to take, and how you can be a part of it.

This blog is in danger of becoming all about food, but a) the writing stuff is in motion but still hush-hush, and b) the family sees each other so rarely right now that we don't even get much in the way of Snippets. That is, unless you could yesterday's endless snark of poor Jim on his 51st birthday, which I kept misremembering as 61 with a big ol' grin. And yet he married me. If you're curious what's going on, you can catch up with the Literary Underworld crew at its site ; with my professional photography and newstuff at Donald Media ; and of course my Facebook and Twitter . I promise there's going to be very big changes soon. In the meantime, our observance of Memorial Day means the family gets to spend a few days actually in each other's company. Not Friday, as Boy had rehearsal for Beauty and the Beast  and I had the night shift. And not tonight (Sunday night), because Jim has a night shift and Boy is seeing one of his friends in a play. (In case...

ME: Why does my phone have 400 pics of you wearing a gray shirt and a quizzical expression? BOY: Huh? ME: ME: I've got at least 40 variations of this on my phone. BOY: Oh yeah! I decided to prank you when you left your phone out lol. ME: Snothead! Next time smile! ----- Olympic snark. (What. This Snippets has been building a while.) I was, of course, working. ME: Olympic opening ceremonies in half an hour on NBC. Try Sling for streaming. BOY: Thank you for the pizza. 😋 ME: Happy National Pizza Day. :) BOY: ...It's not on Sling. ME: Nooooo. What about the NBC app? BOY: I'm able to stream it off NBC's website but idk know long they're gonna let me watch. ME: It's starting! Shiny fireworks. BOY: NBC KICKED ME OFF ME: Noooo! BOY: It won't let you watch the actual ceremony unless you pay. ME: Try clearing your cache. BOY: What? ME: Ask Jim to show you. BOY: Not working. YouTube is not doing it. It's not on YouTube, Sling, Hulu or N...

Or, why I have three more gray hairs and another few hours chopped off my life. You're gonna see the end of this one coming. As the work day wound to a close, Jim texted me that The Amazing Claire was off work today. Since she is his carpool ride, he needed the car to get home at 2 a.m. This meant a side trip to the university on my way home, so Jim would take his dinner break and ride home with me, drop me off and take the car back to the university. I texted the Spawn and told him I'd be picking him up at Founders Hall tonight instead of the Vadalabene Center where I usually retrieve him. Uh, last night. Because by the time you read this it'll be tomorrow. Post-dated blogs play merry havoc on the old verb tenses. Spawn replied that he had a ride home, so not to worry about him. I said that was fine, but try not to be out too late. I retrieved Jim, who was bearing two leftover pizzas to throw at Spawn because we can never have too much food to throw at the Spawn an...

JIM: A man was walking to St. Ives and met a man with seven wives - ME: The guy. Just the guy. JIM: *crestfallen* I know it from Sesame Street. ME: I know it from  Die Hard 3. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is our relationship in a nutshell. ------ JIM: How do you spell padawan? ME: G-O-O-G-L-E. JIM: E-L-I-Z-A-B-E-T-H. ME: Why in heaven's name are you asking me? Go ask George Lucas. ----- Boy passingly refers to himself as a former employee of the Walt Disney Company, clearly referring to his high school orchestra trip to Disney World where they spent a day studying and recording with Hans Zimmer. ME: You were not an employee. You attended a workshop. BOY: Hey, they said they would be using our recording in a movie trailer, and that meant that we were musicians with the Walt Disney Company. ME: You didn't get paid. In fact, you paid! A lot! BOY: It doesn't matter! We were employee artists! ME: I think there are words for work without pay... BOY: Yeah...

PHOTOG: I have the Spice Girls running through my head. Help. ME: You can always play "It's a Small World." That'll erase it. PHOTOG: Noooo. Never mind. Change of topic. ME: I got stuck in that ride for 47 minutes. In the refrain. It caused psychological damage. PHOTOG: I bet. ME: I could sing it for - PHOTOG: No! ---- ME: Would you pull some pork chops out of the freezer before you go to work? MAN: Ohhh. ME: ? Why does this merit an oh? MAN: Oh ME: What's with the ohs? MAN: I'm in an oh mood. Oh oh oh. ME: Make sense. MAN: never. don't wanna. oh. ME: *confused emoji* MAN: *detective emoji* ME: Goofball. ---- ME: Great. That bank robbery is two blocks from my house. I should tell Jim to lock the doors. EDITOR: Tell him to pop out there and take a picture. ME: He's home with the stomach flu. He could vomit on the robbers. EDITOR: He can bring a bucket. REPORTER: That is the most editor-like response ever. --- ME: Good new...

MAN: Ooh, the tree light timer. I need to set it - what time is it? BOY: Hold on. MAN: You got your phone? BOY: Yes, just a second.... *fiddles with phone* MAN: *waits* BOY: It's... hmm. ME: Boys. There is a clock on the wall. BOY: But... we've got our phones. ME: Taking orders for cookies. BOY: What are our options? ME: Chocolate chip, death by chocolate cookies, gingersnaps, sugar cookies or snickerdoodles. I don't think I have the stuff for turtle cookies. MAN: Chocolate chip or death by chocolate. BOY: Sugar cookies or gingersnaps. ME: ... ME: I don't suppose I can get you two to agree on a cookie, can I? Jim is cramming for a final on ancient Greek philosophy. Because hurriedly zooming through material the morning of the exam is the best way to insure retention, as we all know. ME: *nibbles on neck* MAN: Hey! Stop that, now! Aristotle! ME: Ooooh, I love it when you say Aristotle. It makes me sooo hot. Say it again! MAN: Aristotle. ME: Oooh!...

I've never been all that good at the traditional Thanksgiving toast, where we go around the table and say what we're giving thanks for this year. Partly because my answer is always the same: my family. I am blessed with a wonderful family that loves me and that I love, and we all mostly get along, too. I am blessed with a husband and son whom I adore and for whom I cook bountiful meals, and they seem to like me okay. My favorite part of any holiday... or weekend, or spare few hours... is snuggling in with my menfolk to watch movies and laugh together. Our family "adventures" (as I always called them when Boy was small) are the highlights of my life. This year the family circle is a little smaller. We've faced that before, of course; I've lost several family members, as has Jim. This year has been tougher than most, however. I've not written in this blog for quite a while because it didn't feel right to post anything until I could write about Gram...

MAN: *excitedly hands me box of new electronic toy* ME: Yes dear. I will be setting it up shortly. MAN: *crestfallen* Shortly? Not now? ME: I am reading the directions. MAN: *puzzled look* ME: Yes, reading the directions. That's what we grownups do with complicated new devices. We read through the directions before we open the box. MAN: Pish tosh. ME: Go sit till I need you to help me with the cords. MAN: It may not take the same cables as the old one - ME: That's why I'm reading the directions. Shush. ------ Watching Alien 3 ... (quasi-spoilerrific) First two minutes. BOY: What the [bleep]! They killed them? (We're all with you, kiddo.) Halfway through. BOY: Wait, how you gonna get out of this one, Ripley? Ending. BOY: What! There's another movie to get through! ---- ME: Do you need a ride home tonight? BOY: Nah, I got a ride. We're going to stay for a while and help the girls' volleyball team. ME: *sporfle* How exactly are you...

As the hour slips on past midnight.... ME: *yawn* I have to get up stupid early. Tell me to go to bed. MAN: Go to bed. ME: Don't tell me what to do. MAN: See, I knew that's what was going to happen. ME: WHY is there a phone charger in the bathroom? BOY: Uh... ME: With a cord IN the sink, because that's a great idea! BOY: Let me try a toaster next! ME: Smartass. MAN: Ow! ME: (without looking up) Stop using the hand. MAN: I forgot! ME: Learn! BOY: What did the doctor say? ME: He said I should rest more. BOY: Well, then you should rest more. ME: Oh really? Which of my jobs should I quit? BOY: All of them! ME: Sure, no problem! Then you will support me? BOY: ... ME: Ian, please put the DVD away. BOY: Yes mom. ME: And see if you can't put it away where it belongs? In alphabetical order? BOY: I do! ME: That's funny, because I spent twenty minutes having to reorder the DVDs because somebody in this house managed to graduate high school without ...

The good news: Boy is home early! Yay for boyhugs. The bad news: He is home early due to injury. Of course. About a week to ten days ago, he was nicked by an arrow in the leg. (Long story.) Tonight they called me to tell me the wound had gotten badly infected, and he needed immediate medical attention. So I drove out to collect him and his things (made record time to camp); he was due to leave Sunday, so this basically cuts his time short. He greeted me, "Hello momperson." So tonight was a pile of fun, with attempting to clean out the wound and bandage it properly. I am not a doctor, nor do I play one on TV, but I worked as a medical assistant in my youth, and Jim was an Air Force medic. (Of course, that was in 1985, so our arguments over the advisability of using hydrogen peroxide in wounds will continue as long as we argue over macaroni and cheese as a side dish.) We drove by Jim's work on the way back from camp so Jim could look at the leg. We debated taking h...

So, did anybody send us money recently? There's no polite way to ask that question, but I have to ask, because it looks like someone may have been swiping our mail. We have had three pieces of mail go missing en route to us in the last month, and each of them was related to money: a check for a Relay fundraiser, a graduation card for Boy with check enclosed, and a replacement debit card for my business account. We are getting the card replaced and the others have been informed. But the complicating factor is that Boy received a metric ton of wonderful cards, letters and other mail from kind family and friends congratulating him on his graduation. And in the time-honored tradition of the starving student, most of them sent cash or checks. Boy diligently wrote thank-you cards for gifts received before he went off to camp. There were a few that came in after he left, so those have not been properly thanked yet. (He's getting to them as soon as he comes home, he swears.) Bu...

So let's recap, friends and neighbors: This weekend: • I have a signing at Maeva's in Alton on Friday night - " Writers of the Riverbend ." • On Saturday, I work for Ye Olde Newspaper. • On Sunday, I am running a fundraiser at Pottery Hollow for the Relay for Life team. This requires baked goods, as treats were promised to the people coming to paint things. I might be able to get away with cookies and punch. • Meanwhile Boy goes through his Ordeal for the Order of the Arrow. Next weekend: • I am doing a signing in Louisville, Ky. I am leaving on Thursday so I can do some photography on Friday before the signing on Saturday. • But as soon as the signing is over Saturday, I have to book it back to Illinois. Because... • Sunday is the 175th anniversary of St. Andrew's Episcopal Church . I am responsible for the coffee hour baked goods. And coffee hour is, as we all know, the eighth sacrament of the Episcopal Church. • Therefore all baking must be done...

For some reason, the Illness Edition(s) didn't run when I was sick. I was already on an antibiotic for another ailment when the Mysterious Fever of March struck. It went as high as 103, and stuck around for six days. Flu test was negative, other symptoms were all fever-related, including lower white cell count. Then it went away, shortly after I stopped taking the medicine. All that remained was pain in my hand and finger joints and a weird, painful swelling at the back of my head, which later turned out to be an infected lymph node. Two days later, my lips suddenly swelled up like Mick Jagger and my arms and legs itched so terribly I had to smear myself with lidocaine gel just to be able to sleep. A few days of antihistimines made it go away. Methinks I'm allergic to something. WebMD said I had dengue fever or meningitis. Never put your symptoms into WebMD. You're either dying of an obscure tropical virus or having a panic attack. A few weeks later, and suddenly I ha...

It was a lovely, warm weekend here in the Midwest, so naturally Donald-Smith-Gillentine Inc. spent it indoors. We had one of those lovely rare weekends where we had no obligations, but the far-less-rare status of no money. We spent all the funmoney this month on our Valentine's Day dinner (1808 Chophouse, and man, that was gooooood). So we tackled two long-delayed projects: my office and the Boy's room. Now, he's a teenage boy. I don't expect pin-straight neatness. The only young male I ever knew who could keep a room tidy was my friend Stephen, and we've all agreed he's a mutant. At one point in Boy's youth, I turned to a fellow choir member in frustration for advice. His children are brilliant, personable, super-achievers, poster children for the new millennium. ME: Tom, it's all agreed you raised the perfect kids. TOM: ... okay? ME: You did this! Successfully! So please, share the secret: How did you get them to clean their rooms? TOM: We did...

MAN: My boss is allowing me to take two hours' vacation time so I can go to this extra credit thing on Thursday. ME: You mean the Google Tools training workshop ? MAN: Yeah. It's 10 points extra credit for my newswriting class. ME: Don't you have like an A in that class? MAN: B. And it's a tough class, I can tell I'll need all the extra credit I can get. ME: Okay. Dork. Have you reserved your spot? MAN: I'll tell [professor] tomorrow. ME: That isn't how you reserve your spot. MAN: How do I reserve my spot? ME: You have to RSVP with the president of the St. Louis Society of Professional Journalists . MAN: Okay, then I need... hey, that's YOU! ME: *giggles* MAN: I plan to attend the workshop, Madam President. ME: You're supposed to RSVP by emailing StLouisSPJ@gmail.com , I don't know that I can just waive the rules for you... MAN: *raspberry* MAN: I need to decide what elective I take next semester. ME: You know what I think. ...

Preparing to leave Dairy Queen, Boy catches a glimpse of hockey on the TVs they never turn off. BOY: [terrible Russian accent] Is Vladimir Tarasenko da hockey player! ME: God, that's awful. BOY: Is Russian! ME: You're about as Russian as Boris Badanov. BOY: Who? ME: Oh God. BOY: *shrugs* ME: Moose undt Squirrel! [bullwinkle] "Hey Rocky, watch me pull a rabbit outta my hat!" BOY: I have no idea what you're talking about. ME: Oh my God I'm so old. And you are deprived. This naturally meant we had to go look up some clips, searching terms like "Boris and Natasha," "Rocky and Bullwinkle rabbit out of my hat," and "Rocky and Bullwinkle bad puns." So he did his own searching, and discovered the eminently forgettable 2000 film. Which he thought looked quite amusing, and now he wants to watch it. ME: But you couldn't possibly get the gags since you didn't watch the show! BOY: Then we'll just have to find the...

For the purposes of this snippet, you need to know that I have been making fresh bread with olive oil. Yum. For the most recent loaf, I ran out of my usual butter-infused extra virgin and used instead a blend infused with Tuscan herbs. It added an Italian flavor to the loaf. Boy has opined that it would be best served with an oil dipping sauce rather than butter. Thus, these texts. BOY: Get some olive oil for the bread. ME: You like the Tuscan? BOY: With some olive oil. BOY: And you want to make another loaf. ME: I guess you like it. Is there any left? BOY: Very little. ME: So... crumbs then. BOY: Nope, a couple slices, but get some olive oil. ME: Olive to serve. BOY: Get some milk too. ME: A terrific pun like that and I get nothing? BOY: Yep. ME: If the boy thinks he's getting the jumbo bag of Oreo-flavored popcorn from Chef Shoppe for his birthday, he is high. MAN: Do I want to know? ME: That little bag you're holding is $11.99. MAN: How much is the jumbo? ...

They say you'll probably spend your whole year mostly doing what you do on New Year's Day. If so, I'm going to spend 2017 snuggled with my family, napping, cooking experimental dishes, drinking tasty-yet-cheap wine, and ignoring the internet for the most part. That is just fine by me. As I write this, Boy has come home from work, rested, and is now going for a jog at dusk because he is a space alien. (Actually, because he had to miss the Resolution Run this morning in order to work at McDonald's, and I think he regrets it.) Man is running to the store for a few ingredients I somehow forgot, which boggles the mind considering how full the fridge is. We just finished watching Spotlight,  which Jim had not seen despite the two (2) formal events I've hosted featuring it. More movies pending as the lasagna bakes! And I am contemplating my year. I do an extensive list of New Year's Resolutions, because I don't see them as flighty wishes for the new year; I l...

MAN: Some of our friends need to be more careful. These highly attractive women wanting to be my friend have mutual friends with me. ME: The highly attractive woman looking for a good man? MAN: Yes. I get these friend requests from these gorgeous supermodels who are all about friending me and I'm all, "Delete." ME: Now now, hon. Who's to say an attractive woman would not be falling all over herself for you? MAN: *eyebrow of skepticism* Not these women, hon. ME: So you're saying there's no way an attractive woman would be attracted to you? MAN: That's right. ME: So you're saying I'm not attractive? MAN: ... MAN: ... ME: *wide grin* MAN: Woman! ME: *guffaw* Oh honey. It's right in front of you, a giant pit, and you go and just jump on in. ----- BOY: What's for dinner? ME: Food. BOY: There are mashed potatoes on the counter, but no other food. ME: Yes there is. There's a roast in the oven. BOY: *makes face* Roast? ME: ...