The Jan. 14th Rally

All things considered, I'd say my progress on the Jan. 14th rally is decent, and I'm currently in only a mild state of panic. It is a very scary thing to plan something of this size by oneself. It could be a complete and total bomb, or an incredible success. Of course there are the various levels in between--

My family is watching a movie; a very dumb movie. The spoof on Noah's Ark; I don't remember the title, and it isn't important for the purpose of this blog entry. I'm very tired, and could either watch the dumb movie for the sake of being with the family, or go to bed with a hot mug of tea. I'm leaning toward the latter. Besides, I'll be with the clan for an entire week!

Oh, and my 12 year anniversary is next weekend. 12 years married to my best friend. It is going by too fast. If we live to be 95 (Jon is 7 months older than me), that only leaves us 64 more years to be together, and that is not nearly long enough, especially when you realize that you never cease existing. That whole "no giving or taking in marriage" thing that Jesus mentioned in relation to heaven is a serious bummer to the very happily married.

One more thing- whoever anonymous is that said Bible- for the Bible and Spade, thank you. Bible and Spade is the greatest archeology magazine. When I'm old and gray with plenty of time for reading, I'll subscribe. I hope they'll still have low quality printing- it adds to the charm of the thing, I think.

Really, Really Gross

Last night, I sent the kids upstairs to brush their teeth. It was really cold outside, and every year when the weather gets really cold, a couple of those big crunchy wood roaches roam in looking for warmer weather. Well, one was in the bathroom. I could hear Oliver's squeals of delight along with Caroline and Charles coaching him in his effort to grab the fellow.

Suddenly, there was a blood curdling scream, followed by panicked crying. It was definitely Oliver. But what was more strange was that Charles and Caroline were laughing hard. I raced upstairs, and there stood Oliver, looking very stiff, panicked eyes, unable to communicate in words. "What happened?" I yelled at the giggling duo. They recovered themselves enough to say that when Oliver grabbed for the roach, it suddenly jumped onto his hand and ran up his sleeve.

Oliver was wearing a turtleneck, and I did not relish the thought of attempting to locate and extricate the roach from the shirt. Roaches TOTALLY gross me out. So I decided to raise the shirt a bit and flap it to see if the bug would come out. Well, the bug got moving and Oliver was shrieking in complete terror. I guess it is one thing to hold a roach, and it is quite another to have it scurrying around your body. Finally, FINALLY, the dumb thing fell to the floor, Charles immediately grasped it and threw it in the toilet, and I flushed.

Oliver looked very solemn, and a little sheepish. He sniffed in silence and I gave him a long, bear hug. Poor little chap.