Not much to relate...

...just that since last time I posted, we drove a couple thousand miles with a small child, and lived to tell the tale.

Yes, we drove northwards aproximately two weeks ago to attend the Feast of Passover celebration in NH and to visit many a friend and family member. I am happy to report that Aiden did extraordinarily well in the car and really seemed to enjoy meeting and interacting with new people. It did my heart a great deal of good to introduce him to the world of Fairwood. And it did my soul and spirit no end of good just to be there again. It had been a staggering two and a half years since I'd set foot on the premises, and I could feel it in my bones. Fairwood is not the prettiest in March, especially sporting the post-ice storm carnage, but I was thrilled to be there.

Among other notable events, we visited Mrs. B - the elderly lady I used to live with the last two years I was at St. A's. We also visited Grandma Sweet - Great Grandma to Aiden- and that was a lot of fun because of course, they had never met each other before. We also had lunch in Keene at one of our favorite old haunts - Kristen's bakery- with Brad's former boss at Ritz. We also visited with many other friends and enjoyed marvelous weather while we were there. The spiritual aspect of things was also quite refreshing, but I guess I will save that for another day. I really did not want to come home but sleeping in the same room with Aiden was getting old. ( He starts groaning/whining in his sleep around 6:30 every morning.) Driving home was like driving through Narnia as the winter turned to spring in a few hours. We left piles of dirty snow behind us and came home to leaves on ( some of) the trees! We listened to "All Creatures Great and Small" on audiobook in the car and that helped the hours to pass a little more quickly. Oddly enough, the only time we hit any serious traffic we were only a few miles from home. What should have taken us fifteen minutes took us an hour. It was absolutely maddening.

We got home to find that Grampa had apparently overfed the cat ( I had left plenty of food for Stan) and when he saw he was running low on cat food, he picked up a box of what he must have thought was cat food and mixed it in with the dwindling supply of um...real cat food. Yes, he mixed the kitty-litter in with the cat food. I was horrified to say the least. At least it was clean - but Stan wasn't eating it. I wanted to get in the car and drive right back to New Hampshire. But thankfully, our cat woes are behind us for good, I think. I took Stan to his new home on Wednesday morning. Homes in the country are no longer euphemisms for putting an animal down. He should have an interesting life from now on with five dogs, one other cat, and two birds in the house. Um yes. It will take him some time to acclimate from our boring abode, I'm sure. Anyway- I'm veering off into another subject completely...Another topic for another day.

HIDDEN TREASURE!

So, Stan has yet to make his departure. His new mom couldn't make it last night. I hate long goodbyes. Sigh. Cat-givers can't be complainers. ( A new spin on "beggars can't be choosers.")

The other day, Brad opened up the old trunk that we use as a coffee table in our upstairs family room. I guess it had not been opened in a very long time because inside it he found...two large jars of change. We hit the jackpot in our own home! We have yet to count it but we hope that it will mostly finance the purchase of a new laptop because mine ( the first one we ever bought) is rather sickly. You can't see anything on the whole left side of the screen. Which is unfortunate because that's where most of the icons are, and the Start menu. We're thinking about getting a Netbook rather than a full fledged laptop b/c that may suit our needs a little better. We shall see. Any Netbook users out there who want to weigh in and give us your opinions?

ANYWAY... I thought about making a little Biblical joke and rebuking him for not putting that money in the bank so it could have at least earned interest instead of just hiding it away in a trunk... like the parable of the stupid steward.( Or whatever it's called.) After all, I am a hard person, reaping where I do not sow...etc...

So anyway- rejoice with us! That which we didn't even know we had has been found!

Farewell, Stanne with an E.

Tonight our cat Stan is, in the vernacular of these days, " going bye-bye." I have finally gotten my soul around the hard truth that he is not suited for co-habitation with a small child. Most of the time, he is a fairly mellow fellow, but he has fits of... for lack of a better word, "bitey-ness." Which is fine if you are an adult and you are expecting it... although it's pretty hard to expect b/c it's usually like an attack from Special Forces - swift and fierce and out of the blue. And with Aiden getting more mobile, the time has come to be more proactive about babyproofing our environment. So Stan is a victim of babyproofing cutbacks.

Fortunately, I have found him a good home with a former co-worker of mine. I am so happy that I didn't have to take him to a shelter and that I know he will be going to a good home where there are even other animals! I am hoping he will acclimate well - making friends and influencing fellow pets. I can't quite believe this situation has worked out...it's almost too good to be true. I'm afraid this wonderful former coworker, who I hadn't talked to for over six months, and who I randomly emailed, asking if she wanted to take Stan in, will change her mind or something and bring him back. I won't really believe it has worked until a few weeks go by.

I am trying hard not to be sad. I am reminding myself that the list of reasons why we should give him away is far longer than the list of reasons to keep him. Basically, there are two reasons why we should keep him: 1) Because I am insanely loyal and 2) Because sometimes he sits in my lap and makes me feel warm and cozy. The reasons we should say goodbye to him are so long that I won't even start. Anyway, the most important reason is Aiden's safety and so I know I am doing the right thing.

So I am deliberately refraining from a long and sentimentally nostalgic post about how we brought him home as a kitten from a yardsale...and all the cute things he did...and...how he was a part of our lives for almost two and a half years....aaauuugh!

A Post about Two Unrelated Things

I know some of you - okay, just Liane, as far as I know- don't like hearing what other people think heaven will be like, but just indulge me for a minute. ( And Liane, you can skip this paragraph. Or not read the entire post, if you wish. But there is a charming story you may enjoy further down.) You know what I'm reeeeeally looking forward to - among other things- about the hereafter? Lack of pettiness. Whatever heaven looks like, whatever form paradise assumes, I highly doubt we're going to be irritated with other souls. But just in case, to guard against even a tiny chance that heaven may be slightly vexing, my heaven will most likely be a hermitage for the first ten thousand years, bright shining as the sun.... When I want to encounter another soul, I will walk/fly/balloon to the part of heaven where everyone else lives, visit who I choose, go back to my chosen place of blissful exile and thus, I will acclimate myself to a happy eternity. After ten thousand years, I may move to a celestial small town ( I don't know about a celestial city- that's a bit much, even for heaven), but at first, I believe I will inhabit an island in the universe, my own little Monticello. ( Did you know that Thomas Jefferson was a bit of a homebody and hermit? It's true! Why does that make me feel vindicated?) So in case you're wondering where I am for a few millennia, I'm just letting you know ahead of time. Yep, that's what I'm looking forward to. That and not having to cook every day. I think I would be a much better cook if hunger did not exist and I only had to cook when I wanted, just for the sheer joy of culinary creation. This would probably happen only about two or three times a week.

Now, for something COMPLETELY different, the other day, Grandpa came upstairs for breakfast looking like he'd had a less-than-friendly run-in with Mike Tyson. There was blood on his nose. Not under his nose but on the bridge. I questioned him about it and he didn't know what had happened. When the subject came up later, he seemed a bit embarrassed but apparently he'd figured out what happened. It seems that he had a dream that Aiden had fallen down and Grandpa was trying to rescue him; in so doing, he fell out of bed. Poor Grandpa! But isn't that sweet? Even in his sleep, he's watching out for Aiden. The scabs of heroism remain apparent and I just hope the neighbors don't think I'm abusing him!