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I’ll bet you can hardly believe your good fortune. You actually get to read about a current event in the life of UltraMom…the very day it actually happened! And so, without further ado, I bring you “A Not-Half-Bad Day”
UltraMom gazed out at the snowy landscape and mentally reviewed the season. This was Spring, wasn’t it? The daffodils drooped their sad little heads under the weight of their caps of snow and UltraMom drooped her sad little head at the unsettling thought that spring had come and gone. I mean, just a couple of days ago, it had been warm enough for tank tops and shorts. She put in an exercise video and waited for the promised move-your-body feel-good endorphins to kick in, but on this particular morning even they seemed to be a little sluggish. UltraMom glanced at the clock and was startled to realize that, not only did she not have time for breakfast, but if she took any longer than a 10-minute bath, she would be late for her dental appointment in Elko. Twenty minutes later, UltraMom headed out the door, not SO very late.
The dentist appointment was for the purpose of making sure UltraMom’s new Night Guard fit properly. Several days earlier, when Umom was telling Sis-in-Law Pat about her new mouth appliance, she suddenly realized that “Night Guard” sounded more like a man who patrolled one’s premises after dusk looking out for burglars. The image so amused her that she told Pat about it, even describing said hunky ‘Night Guard’ who would go by the name of ‘Thor.’ Perhaps ‘Thor’ would be the mouthpiece’s pet name, she mused.
The purpose of the Night Guard was to stop UltraMom from grinding her teeth together while she slept. It seemed to be making her TMJ worse, not to mention wearing grooves in her molars. About two weeks ago, plaster casts had been made of her upper and lower teeth, which was a lot of fun, and left disgusting bits of plaster in her mouth and it took several hours to find and spit them all out. Now, seated in the dentist chair, the 20-something year old technician rammed the clear plastic piece over UltraMom’s upper teeth. Wow! It really hurt! “It takes a little getting used to,” she said cheerily. “Now, lets see you take it out. Just start at the back and hook your fingernails over it.” UltraMom tried. And tried, and tried again. There was NO WAY that thing was coming out. The tech tried, and only managed to gouge UtraMom’s gums with her fingernails. Finally she got a metal dental tool and managed to pry it off. “I guess we need to send it back for adjustment,” she admitted. “We’ll call you when we get it back.”
This was fine with UltraMom. She headed to the car, snagging a doughnut from the tray near the receptionist’s desk on her way out. It seemed funny to her that doughnuts and muffins would be sitting around at a dentist’s office, and usually she didn’t take one, but today, after all the pain and suffering and the skipping of breakfast, she felt the need for a little reward.
Okay, switching out of tiresome third person narration, I had just walked out the door, and taken my first bite, when I heard the perky little tech’s voice behind me, “Sweetie, you need to come back in. The dentist wants to look at how it fits.” Now, right on par with being called “Ma’am” (I know, I know, it is respectful and all, but makes me feel 52 years old. Yes, I also know that is how old I am, but that is NOT how old I want to feel.) is being called ‘Sweetie” by someone 30 years younger than I am. So, I was a little cranky when I took my place back in the chair. I was determined to finish my treat, and was hurriedly brushing yeasty, glazed crumbs off my “bib” when the dentist entered carrying my mouthpiece.
“I took it down a little,” he offered. “Let’s see how it fits now.” Wow! THAT hurt even worse than before! And again, no way I could get it out. The dentist gouged my gums even worse than the tech had, and finally resorted to a dental tool and chisel. As he pounded on the edge, jarring my whole head, he made a little joke. “Don’t worry,” he laughed, “you won’t have to use this every day!” Finally it was out again. “That is really tight, isn’t it? I guess I need to take it down some more.” That prompted me to ask what he meant by “take it down.” I mean, was he wrestling the thing, beating it into submission? No, it seems ‘take it down’ referred to removing part of the night guard material to loosen its grip. He was back in 5 minutes or so, and now the thing was only half as deep as when we started. “Lets see if this is any better,” he said. “I sure hope so,” I replied fearfully. “Well, if I need to, I will just take it down some more,” he assured me a bit testily. He didn’t need to take it down any more. In fact, as I write this post, “Thor” is in my mouth, covering my top teeth. When my bottom teeth try to find their northern counterparts and grind, they are stopped by the smooth plastic sheath. The only problem I can see now is that my tongue may become raw feeling the jagged edge where the guard has been ‘taken down.’ And now that I think of it, why did they even need to take the mold for my bottom teeth?
So, finally away from that torture chamber, I ran a few errands. Took back my library materials and checked out some more. Went to J.C. Penney’s to return Heather’s birthday shirts and find her some more. To the $1.05 Store to spend $30 on stuff I didn’t need.
And then home, where I found Murphy and Rowdy racing about the house in high energy and UltraDad, who was trying to get over a bad cold, asleep on the couch.
UltraDad and I had plans for this day. We were going to the movie theater to see “300”, a show about 300 Spartans, back in the day, who did a bunch of fighting against their enemy. I had heard just a bit about it from several of my kids. Johnny liked it, but assured me that I wouldn’t. Ditto for Heather. “Too much violence and nudity,” she explained. UltraDad had planned to go see it solo, but after this I asked him to wait for me. I was getting a bit tired, I decided, of my children censoring my movies for me.
While UltraDad woke up and got ready, I took the ‘boys’ for a quick walk around town to take the edge off their surplus energy. It was COLD out there, but I seemed to feel it more than they did, despite their recent short haircuts.
We decided to have lunch in town, and tried a place we hadn’t eaten before; a little café adjoined to a service station. I really liked it; they had a very nice, very reasonably priced, soup and salad bar. Nestled incongruously, but deliciously, among the salad ingredients was a bowl of raisiny bread pudding, of which I had a generous portion. After lunch, we had a little time to kill, so went to Walmart to buy a new telephone for the house. The old one had developed an annoying little habit. When someone called, the phone would ring, but when you tried to answer it, it would emit loud beeps and the words “searching” would appear on the phone. Actually talk to the person on the other end of the line? Forget it. We had decided, at last, to replace it, and finally settled on one of the higher end models, hoping this would mean less problems in the long run.
And now it was time for the movie. We indulged in some movie popcorn and settled back to enjoy the show. Now I hate to admit this, but my kids were kind of right. I didn’t care all that much for the movie, at least the parts I saw. I closed my eyes a bit in the first major fighting scene, and didn’t open them again until some time later, after having a great little nap. And I guess I missed all the nudity, darn it. What I did see was Leonidas rallying his men, and a lot of shouting about the honor of dying for Sparta, which they all did. After all, as we all know, if we have watched the movie for even 5 minutes, Spartans do NOT know how to surrender. Actually, that is a skill that may have saved their lives, but probably at the cost of enslaving their entire country, so perhaps its just as well that they didn’t. Enhancing our movie experience were four or five young men seated a couple of rows behind us who kept up a loud commentary throughout the show, enthusiastically encouraging the Spartans to keep on fighting. They got especially excited when someone got an arm lopped off, a spear in the chest, or was thrown over a cliff. But UltraDad liked it, (the movie, not the running commentary) so I was glad we went.
We were excited to get home and show the ‘boys’ the new toys we had found for them. One is a soft plastic “flying saucer” that lights up when you throw it. They seem kind of scared of that one, actually. Another is a cute little squeaky beaver, with a really good tail for grabbing and shaking. But my favorite is a dog hand puppet. When you squeeze his jaws together, he barks out a song, one note per squeeze. That one is fun for all, especially me!
And so, that was my day. Hope yours was good too. Tomorrow, back to the usual, and I hope, back to sunshine.
UltraMom
Today my little girl is 29 years old. She probably doesn’t really want me posting her age, but that’s what she gets for bullying me into writing her a birthday post. When I was her age, I was the mom of 4 kids. Now I’m not saying that was good or better than what she is doing; only different. In fact, many times I have wished I hadn’t married so young (19), but it seemed like the right thing to do at the timeJ
And so, it was 29 years ago today. I have written about it before; maybe even a couple of times. It was very early Easter Morning, March 26, 1978. My entire family was invited over to my house for Easter Dinner, and it was going to be a great meal. The day before, in a burst of energy, I had prepared most of the meal ahead of time. Even the roast beef was ready to go, sitting in a roasting pan surrounded by potatoes, onion, and carrots.
UltraDad was having a hard time sleeping. He had a terrible toothache. He finally dozed into a fitful sleep, only to be awakened by his unreasonable (it must have seemed at the time) wife. “We have to go to the hospital,” she said in a not-very-funny dream. “I think I’m having this baby.” But it wasn’t a dream, and a couple of hours later, UltraMom’s parents, who lived in the same town as the hospital, got a knock on the door. “But I thought we were going to YOUR house,” was Grandpa’s reaction on seeing his pregnant daughter along with his son-in-law and adored grandson. “And by the way, you really look like a pumpkin in that orange coat,” he told his daughter encouragingly, as he took sleepy little Bobby in his arms.
And so, late Easter morning, little Heather Loren McDonald came into the world, a beautiful little red-haired girl, weighing 6 lbs, 2 oz. My only daughter, and ally. After all, eventually there would be 4 men in the house, and we would be vastly outnumbered.
I know I told you I was going to combine this with a Japan post, Honey; something like “It’s Heather’s birthday, and speaking of Heather reminds me of the day we went to Motoji’s garden,” but I’m not really going to do that. No, Heather, this post is all about you.
I am so glad you got to go to Japan with me. I got to know you and see you on a whole new level, as a beautiful, clever, funny and competent young adult, who just happens to be my daughter. I love you and I am so proud to be your mom.
Do you remember this song I used to sing to you?
“Who’s the little girl that I love so, its’ Heather-O, Heather-O, Heather-O-Dough.”
Happy Birthday, Sweetheart. And many,many more.
YOUR UltraMom
Heather in Japan
Happy birthday Heather!!
I just realized that March 26 is also my grandma’s birthday. If I remember correctly she turned 97...!?
Well, happy birthday Heather. I sent more message, so check your email too!
Thanks for the great post and the awesome package! Talk to you soon:)
I know this is hard to believe, but I’m actually going to write, mostly, about stuff that happened quite recently; yesterday in fact.
UltraDad, Murphy, Rowdy and I did, indeed, have an adventure. But first we stopped by Pat’s house to see her new ‘pets.’ Now, Beaker’s Parents, don’t be jealous, but Pat now has 6 turtles in a 50 gallon aquarium! I don’t remember what kind they are, but they are not totally aquatic, like our pig-nosed friend. There are rocks only partially submerged so they can climb out of the water if they’ve a mind to, which they often do. Two of them are about CD Disk- sized, while the four little ones are
think half dollar. Anyway, they’re pretty cool, but, as I told Pat, I’m too lazy to wish I had some of my own. All I can think of is the work involved. Sadly, several days later, the biggest one “passed on”.
Okay, I’m going to back up a bit, to Jim’s visit, actually, and we are going back to prison for a bit. One thing I really wanted to do when Jim was home was show him the place where I work. I just wanted him to get an idea of how it is and meet some of the people I work with. We have a new LT in camp, actually he is the LT who was at Calvin Camp when I first started working there, and is now back. So far, he has been very nice and supportive of the store, which I greatly appreciate. So, my first step in gaining Jimbo’s admittance to the ‘big house’ was to email the LT to request permission. His reply? “I have to ask the Warden in Cedar. “ I’ll spare you all the details, except to say that I was persistent, and called back several times, finally getting the okay. So, Friday morning Sgt Donald told me to go ahead and bring the kid over. “Just make sure he’s not wearing blue jeans,” the Sgt warned me, “We want to be able to tell him apart from our ‘customers.’ Good idea.
The upshot was that Jim (and incidentally me) got a very nice personalized tour of the facilities by Sgt Donald, and the “customers” got to see my very tall, handsome son. I guess the comments kind of went something like this: “THAT is Ms. Kathy’s son? He’s so tall, and she’s such a little thing.” I got to see parts of the camp I don’t often see, and hear things I didn’t know, such as: 1) because of the prison shortage in the state as a whole, we will be increasing camp capacity by about 30 inmates, 2) The officers recently discovered an area where inmates had been climbing over the fence during visiting hours to remove contraband left for them by said visitors, either in their unlocked cars, or hidden somewhere on the premises. The wire (not barbed) was pretty sagged down in that area, which is kind of hidden from ready-view, 3) An effort is made not to send rival gang members to the same camp facility to avoid violence. It was especially nice for me to get to show Jim my store, and introduce him to my inmate clerks: Ricky and Brain. They are two of the best and most trustworthy clerks I have ever had, and definitely make my job more enjoyable.
Well, now that we are back in prison, I am having a talk with some of the guys about a little problem I have. When UltraDad and I have a day off together, we can’t think of anything to do that would be fun for both of us. We would both like to go exploring and see new sights that are not crowded with people, but he is convinced that this is impossible without a 4-wheel drive pickup, which we do not possess. Brain fetches ‘Bugsy’, a 21 or so yr old inmate who grew up in the area and knows it well. He tells an alluring tale of a Hot Springs, accessible by 2-wheel drive, and only a couple of hours away. And the best part? There is never anyone there! Bugsy draws a map, taking into account my direction-challenged-syndrome, or DCS. “You can’t miss it,” he assures me. “You won’t be able to see it until you are right there, but you should smell the sulphur ahead of time. There is one big pool with an old rusted BBQ pit next to it, and lots of smaller ones. Be careful of the smaller pools; some of them are REALLY hot!”
I am excited beyond measure at the thought of surprising Udad with such an awesome place to go. Maybe I will just throw him into the car, drive on out there.
Of course I can’t help myself, and end up telling him the whole story and showing him my map at the first opportunity. But he is game, though a tiny bit skeptical. After all, HE has never heard of these alleged Hot Springs, so could they really exist?
Saturday morning we load up Murphy and Rowdy, stop by the grocery store for some fried chicken and drinks, and head out. It is a beautiful day, and the drive, as promised, is scenic, if a bit windy. Quite suddenly after 50-60 miles, the nice paved road turns into roughened dirt, but nothing my car can’t handle. Just have to slow down a bit. We make all the turns, ending with a right turn to ‘follow the fence line.’ Now the road is considerably worse. Deep ruts line the road, sometimes filled with muddy water from a recent rain. My average speed is now @10 mph, and even that seems too fast. UltraDad is now complaining about my driving: “You will have to drive on one side or the other. If you drive in the ruts, you are going to high center us!” and “Don’t drive over that shadscale, or you will give us a flat tire.” My reaction? “I think it’s your turn to drive.”
We stopped at a wide place in the “road” and Udad has another idea. “Let’s just walk a little bit and see what we can see.”
Now, for some time, we had been watching a pickup and people on a distant hillside. It looked like the road was going to lead us right to them. It seemed a shame to have come all this way and not even know if the Hot Springs really were there or not, so we kept walking. Finally we came to a fork in the road, so we took the high road (you take the low road) where we could overlook the pickup and people and even the Hot Springs, if they did indeed exist. They did indeed, along with numerous smaller ones, some of them quite warm. The whole area was very boggy, and soon our shoes were encrusted with mud. It did no good to try and avoid the mud, though walking on vegetation helped a little. It would look like the ground a few yards over was dryer and packed, but when you went over there, it would prove to be an illusion. Finally we mudded our way over to the big hot pool where a family was swimming and picnicking. There was a Mom, a Dad, a big brother and two little sisters. We exchanged polite greetings. As it turns out, this was their first trip out here also. And they weren’t too sure about the swimming. The two little girls had been in the water, and were now covered in little red, itchy spots. “Duck mites, I think,” declared the Dad. “And they are bad news.”
If we had found the place isolated, I may have been tempted to experience the warm water myself, so perhaps I was saved by this not-entirely-welcome company. Not wanting to intrude upon their family time, we soon left and made our way back to the car. Somehow, it seemed to take twice as long to walk back as it had to get there. UltraDad, fortunately, had some candy in his pocket to guard against shakiness. Murphy and Rowdy had to be forcibly stopped from drinking from the muddy puddles. When we got back to the car, and I filled their dish, they drank, and drank, and drank.
I was feeling quite cheerful and vindicated at actually finding the place from my map, even if we didn’t get to stay and enjoy it for very long. UltraDad decided we should get a bit further down the road before stopping for lunch, so off we went. “Let’s go back another way,” he suggested. “Turn right here, towards the Fish Hatchery and we’ll go back through Secret Pass.” That sounded like fun.
“We could stop for lunch when you find a wide spot in the road. I think they probably have picnic tables at the fish hatchery.” UltraDad said. I translated that to mean he wished to eat at the picnic tables near the fish hatchery, silly me. Suddenly there was an exasperated noise from the seat beside me. “You passed a whole bunch of good places to stop,” he exclaimed. “I thought you wanted to eat at the fish hatchery,” said I.
“No,” he said with exaggerated patience. “I just said there might be tables there.”
Fine. Within 5 minutes, we were parked enjoying our lunch.
We never did see the Fish Hatchery. It seems like we must have missed it, but I don’t know how we could have. In any case, it was another scenic drive, and, on the whole, a very enjoyable day.
In fact, I’m about ready to set out again. Anyone got another map?
UltraMom
Sounds like some fun exploring!! I have DCS too. Jim refuses to accept any of my directions.
You knows we loves you babe.
Ha! You think you can get away with a post that short without incurring the wrath of the birthday girl? We will see about that.
Oh you forget, Heather doesn’t respond to me, so I have nothing to worry about.
Written Sunday, March 18th
My gold standard of a good time is time spent with my kids, so, of course, having Jim home for a week rates as platinum. (that IS better than gold, isn’t it?) He arrived mid-afternoon just a week ago, and left the following Saturday. Today UDad and I are mostly spending our day missing him, but we’ll do better once we have a little Jim-withdrawal behind us.
UltraDad was able to spend a couple of days with the kid, and I think they spent most of their time putting together UDad’s new table saw, which was fun for both of them. Some more time was spent working on getting UDad’s elk antlers getting them in shape for mounting on the wall.
UltraMom had Weight Watchers, and led an awesome inspiring meeting on emotional eating for three (yes, count-em, 3!) people in Carlin Tuesday night, and an equally awesome, inspiring meeting on emotional eating for 40 some people in Elko on Wedneseday. But she was feeling a little shorted in the area of spending-time-with-Jimbo. And so, she worked some hours on Wed (not usual) and took Thursday off so she could have a Jim-day all to herself.
Thursday was, as far as I am concerned, a pretty much perfect day. After breakfast and sending Dad back to bed (he was working nights), Jim and I took a nice long walk with the “boys” (ie, poodles). It was nice to have someone to take Rowdy, while he lunged and grabbed his leash. Murphy, of course, was the perfect gentleman.
Then, it was off to Elko and a stop at the bank so Jim could take care of his finances. A kind of funny thing happened on our way to the bank
. As I got out of the car, I put on my jacket. Now, I had not worn this particular jacket since washing, and as I got it arranged, something white caught my eye. A Kleenex? (not at ALL unusual for UltraMom). No, as it turns out, it was underwear, caught on the jacket Velcro. I discreetly told Jim I would meet him inside, and headed back to the car to ditch the embarrassing extra garment. When we were seated, visiting with our personal banker, I noticed something else. This time it was a sock. I’m just glad I noticed the garments in the particular order that I did. I showed this one to Jim, and he claims that every time he looked my way after that, I waggled it at him, but I really don’t think that is true. We all know how prone him is to, how shall I say, embellishment?
All that banking made me hungry, and I think it had the same effect on Jim, so we headed over to The Star, a Basque restaurant in Elko where they have the best steak sandwiches on the planet. The salad and French fries are also outstanding. The hostess, whom I always notice on the infrequent occasions that I dine at The Star, was, as usual, charming and attractive. She was also very friendly, to the point that it seemed she knew me. It wasn’t until after the meal that I found out why; she belongs to the Elko Weight Watcher group and had been at my meeting the night before! Small world?
After stuffing ourselves, Jim was up for whatever I wanted to do, and what I wanted to do was to show him the Michael P. Jordan Memorial Tree Grove out by NYTC, the youth correctional facility. In the near future, I’ll post some further information on the tree grove, but we had a nice time there. Some of the evergreens are huge, and, of course, the deciduous are not yet leafed out. In fact, the tree grove has fallen into a bit of disrepair; not sure if plans are to maintain it or not.
Then we stopped by Ralley’s to get my prescription and pick up some brats and chorizos for dinner. Jim said it would be nice to have some chips and dip to go with them. I said we would have to pick up some chips, and then on further reflection, I added “and some dip.” Jim kind of rubbed my face in that one and kept asking me, “So, for chips and dip, we need to pick up chips and what else?” We also had a nice fruit salad that I artistically arranged in a hollowed out pineapple shell, just like my mother used to. To make it even better, Pat came over and enjoyed the repast with us; we ate early, about 5 P.M. so UltraDad could eat before heading off to a night of work by 6.
Now, heretofore, we had been so busy working on Jim’s taxes, we had had no time for my favorite activity: playing games! I let Jim know this was unacceptable, so he graciously beat me at several games of “Authors”, and then we watched “Phantom of the Opera” on DVD, which I mostly stayed awake for. This was kind of a nostalgia thing cause when I was at Jim’s college a coupla years ago for Mom’s Weekend, we saw that movie at the SUB. Twice. The music is superb, as is Emily Postum, I think it is, who plays Christine. And of course, we all love the Phantom.
The next day, I had to work and Udad had the day off. I wasn’t sure what the boys were planning to do, but I strongly suggested they order pizza or in some other way take care of their own dinner. So, I was a bit put out when I arrived home, late, to find them sitting about in a state of apparent stupor with no dinner in evidence. After a brief dinner discussion, I called up and ordered pizza. Then UltraDad suggested I come outside and see what they had been doing all day. I aimed my flashlight around the back yard, looking for something different. Finally, I was led to the side of the yard, and noticed the brand new chain link fence that stood in front of the broken down wooden one that had recently been unsuccessful at keeping Murphy and Rowdy in their own yard, and away from the St Bernard puppy and grouchy, perpetually barking Cocker Spaniel that were always chained in the yard next door. Whew! Now THAT is a sentence! I was overwhelmed by guilt and gratitude. (I had strongly been hinting that SOMEBODY fix that wooden fence). What a relief not to have to worry about “the boys” getting away.
The next day Jimbo had to leave, but we talked him into letting us buy him lunch in Elko on his way out of town. Too bad he couldn’t have stuck around a few more hours, because UltraDad, sisterinlaw Pat and I went to see “Wild Hogs’ at the local movie theater, and I don’t care what Johnny thinks, it was really funny!
Wow, this is the Saturday after I originally wrote that post, and I am only now getting back to it. I seem to be on some kind of writing hiatus, but I promise to kick myself out of it soon, for my sake as well as yours!
Today, UltraDad and I are off for a little adventure, trying to find the Hot Springs in the Marshes by a map drawn for me by one of my store “customers.” I’ll let you know how it goes.
UltraMom, back in the saddle again
“pick up some brats and chorizos for dinner”
Seems like you already had three and possibly four brats and you wanted more?
Sounds like you had a really good time with Jim. Spending time with him does get quite addicting.
You are both right. Jim IS a brat, and it is quite addicting spending time with him. I miss him a bunch.
Emily Postum is actually Emmy Rossum, so the bad news is that you got both names wrong. The good news is that you were too lazy to either glance at the dvd cover or bounce over to imdb.com to fact-check! Enjoyed the post, keep them up!
Sorry that the site is kind of overrun with comment spam right now. I haven’t been able to make myself care enough yet to get around to deleting them, but will soon. I really need to move our site over to a better protected cms, but for the time being it is a giant pain.
Congratulations! Since I am too lazy to write a new post right now, you get another one of my poems that will leave UltraBob scratching his head and wondering what is going on in his mother’s head! I wrote this one, actually, in late November.
I am thrilled to have Jim home for a couple of days while on his Spring Break. But we have spent the past two evenings trying to complete his Income Tax forms online, so that isn’t much fun.
And now:
What is the connection between human beings—-
We connect in so many ways,
Sometimes like links in a chain.
But is that what I want to be?
A link like others, not too different.
At a glance, You cannot tell me from the rest….
In a way, yes.
Yet in my mind I long to break the chain and soar.
Beyond the sameness,
Beyond mediocrity,
Beyond the confines of comfort and complacency.
Yet I cannot bear to leave it all behind.
What, if in my rashness,
I like your poems. They’re really nice to read. Tell Jim hi for me.
Chains, these chains they’re about to drag me down. -Johnny Cash
Nice poem keep up the good work!
I’m so sorry about the snow!! Hopefully it was just a quick spring storm that won’t happen again. Cold is good for daffodils though because then they stick around longer which is always a good thing.
very nice post. Hope dad gets over his cold quickly and your tongue grows rapidly used to the new intruder.
I’m a little concerned about the state of sibling strife in the house. In our nightly phone conversations Murphy has taken to calling Rowdy, Fang. (stands for freakin’ annoying new guy, but don’t tell him I told, he told me not to.)