2
Exhausted 2 Write Newsletter Archive
"This
writing business. Pencils and whatnot. Overrated, if you ask me."
Eeyore from " ? "
The 2 Exhausted 2 Write Newsletter
December 1998
~The Mystery: Your neighborhood
is suffering brownouts. Your state is suffering brownouts. Your country is
suffering brownouts. It's no mystery: Alan's 1998 Christmas
Light Extravaganza. 
~Nikki & Kilory: Blue's
Clues has taken over my household. No sooner is the Blue's Clues video
over than Nikki and Kilory insist I rewind it and play it again and again.
I'm ready to lose my mind. Although both are just as enraptured with Steve
and Blue, it seems to have a weaker hold on Nikki because she has yet another
obsession: Barbie. Nikki begs endlessly for a Barbie dress (nightgown). I
tell her she needs to save her money, to which Kilory pipes "My monies is
safe!" Nikki bought with her own money a Barbie book in which a flower girl
wears pink roses in her hair. Nikki begged for pink roses in her own hair.
One Sabbath morning I dotted her hair with said flowers. Kilory, who lives
in her cowgirl boots, asked for the same thing, which surprised me because
she often rejects frilly stuff. I made my two Violets two frilly,
froufy dresses out of violet-printed fabric, complete with ribbons, flowers,
bustles, petticoats, and tulle-festooned hats. Darling! Had to take them to
see Gramma in their delicious duds. Nikki Violet LaPreal could hardly wait
for Gramma to see her pretty dress. Kilory Violet LaPreal sulked saying "I
look stooopid." But when I went to take their picture, Nikki posed
with her Barbie book; Kilory with her dump truck.
Nikki
and Kilory believe in Santa Claus with the same fervor with which they believe
in Big Bird, Elmo, Blue, the Grinch, etc., and for the same reason: They see
them on TV. Recently, when we told the girls they'd have to wait until Christmas
to play with something we'd just purchased, Kilory started a litany and Nikki
bombarded us with discussions of the fairness of life. She paused for breath
and realized Kilory was chanting "I hate Santa. I hate Santa." *GASP!* "KILLoreeeee!!
No! Stop that!!!" Nikki repeated this at various volumes, interrupted only
by the sounds of flesh thudding on flesh and Kilory yowling. As usual I had
to stop what I was doing to referee. Still, Kilory has not dared to possibly
ruin Nikki's Christmas present intake since.
Potty training is complete. Just accidents now. They are so proud of their
big girl undies. They like to put them on themselves, often backward. I only
interfere when the leghole becomes a waistband [big, proud, silly, maternal
smile].
They are now computer junkies [computerphiles sounds punny when spoken]. Nikki
tells everyone she meets -- total strangers and acquaintance victims alike
-- that Daddy made her a "puter." I pick them up from Kids Klub at the gym
after my workout and Nikki tells the caregivers "I'm going home now..." and
the caregivers -- all of them -- say in unison "to play on the computer that
Daddy made you." I went to renew the tags on my license plate and had to wrestle
Nikki away from the tax office computers. She was very distressed she wasn't
allowed to touch the computer and wailed to everyone repeatedly "I have to
work here! I have to work here!" Great. An IRS agent in the works.
They love to wash the real car "with sponges" and bubbles. Kilory urges me
to drive the "speed lemon." Both wail, "We're lost!" should I take an alternative
route. They love to sing the usual verses of "Happy Happy Home" plus "With
Rudi/Bubba/Buki/Bill/Eeyore in the family,
happy, happy home, happy, happy home, happy, happy home." I've got one: "With
Blue in the family, Mom will be in a Home, sent off to a Home, a padded-celled
Home."
~The Child Development Research Director: In November,
Carol Slider, bless her*, gave Alan and me her tickets to the dress rehearsal
of the sold-out "Don Giovanni" at the Bass Performance Hall. It probably was
more fun than a paid performance; I doubt the director prances in the aisles
during regular performances. I've finally been to an opera. And what an opera!
(*I'm grateful for little things like Mom and Dad sending the
girls to the bilingual Children's University on Thursdays, and Wal-Mart providing
my second favorite fragrance as a sampler. I also have a profound sense of
how good life is to me at this particular moment: In the span of one month
I had to cancel plans with three different friends because they had to attend
the funeral of a family member. Two of them, including Carol, had lost their
father the night before our event. Two of the three other little girls in
our weekly playdate have lost a grandfather in the past year or so. If you
have no idea what a tragedy that would be around here, read on... In any case,
I am blessed, and recognize how fragile said state is.)
Medical scares have evaporated. The gym is doing me good. My
garden is doing a great job taking care of itself and a multitude of bees
and butterflies. My bumblebees who turned vicious
during the heat wave and drought have sweetened with the cooler weather and
let me work around them in peace again. I can't go into my backyard without
seeing a butterfly, even in December. It's great. I transformed our north
property line into an ABCs herb bed. Amongst letters spelled out in stone
grow Anise, Borage, Cilantro, Dill, Epazote, Fennel, Garlic Chives, Hyssop,
Italian Leaf Parsley, Johnny Jump Ups (my favorite edible flower), Krausa
Parsley, Lemon Balm, Marjoram, Nasturtium (flowers and leaves make peppery
salads), Oregano, Par-Cel, Queen Charlotte Violet (edible flowers look charming
on white frosting), Rosemary, I cannot get enough rosemary. It's
like a drug for me. Even its flowers are a blue shade of purple. I want to
get into soap making so I can have rosemary soap. Soap making...yeah, that's
what I need...one more project..., Sage, Thyme, Ukrainian Tarragon,
Violas (ditto), Winter Purslane, Xeriscopic
Dandelion (OK, I'm stretching it here, but edible, Texas-hardy Xs are
rare and I'll use ANY excuse to grow dandelions for salad), Yardlong Beans
and Yarrow, and Zesty Tarragon Substitute (aka Mexican Mint Marigold or Texas
Tarragon).
~With the exception of the cats in the windows, the outside of the Green
Gables Playhouse is finished. The walls and paint thereon will have to
wait until Alan finishes putting in the floor. I can hardly wait to paint!
Debbie
Travis the Paint Queen rules my creative life now. The antique,
own-root roses I planted on either side of the lattice porch have soared
past seven feet tall and have nearly reached the peaked middle -- having been
planted right before a near-record- breaking heat wave; drought; and watering bans. As they are also blooming to beat the band I cannot say enough
about antique, own-root roses. In October Alan and I planted 1,300 naturalizing
bulbs amongst the many bulbs that already make our home an explosion of color
during February and March. Speaking of explosions of color... 
~
Alan: I helped Alan put out Christmas lights the week before Thanksgiving:
213 Woodlawn is now the "100 Aker Wood", all the way down to a "Mr. Sanders"
sign above Pooh's door and a reproduction of his door bell and campfire.
A lot of time, a lot of work, a lot of lights. I considered the task done.
What a joke! Alan's not even started! Our new neighbors Jan and Eric have
transformed the perpetually-dark-at-Christmastime house north of us into a
illuminated festive home rivaling Alan's fanatical endeavors. Suburban soulmates!
It remains to be seen who will win the Best Decorated Yard Contest.
(Call 558-1501 with nominee address and name to vote.)
~Family: The mysterious infection in Dad's foot
that hospitalized him in August has made a new man of him. We went from thinking
he'd lose his life, to lose his foot, to taking him home. I guess he's decided
home is a good place, and life and foot are perhaps things to keep and care
for. He is utterly besotted with Nikki and Kilory, and they with him. One
gets the idea, that in their eyes, no one is better than Gramma — NO ONE!
— and yet when they visit the farm they spend all their time with Big PawPaw,
leading him by the hand from one adventure to another. "Come here, Big PawPaw."
~Grampa's the same. His dog's
the same.
~Mom has not yet suffered stress fractures from her crown to her toenails.
Yet.
~
Harry,
Emma and kids moved to Gaithersburg, MD.
~
Susen
was graduated from Blue Mountain Academy, Hamburg, PA with honors; won the
Caring Heart Service award for donating her time every Sunday as an EMT for
Hamburg EMS; earned her private pilot's license; and attends Kettering where
her beau's name is...Mr. Wright!! We e-mail with David and Vialo. Not old
enough to drive, David is now taller than Dad and both uncles.
~Carl and Ella are busy. The folks are busy and dealing with medical bothers.
~Anything else?: No. We're amazed you read this far. Pay our home a visit.
Need directions? Bah! Pack up the car and drive in the direction of The Glow.
Bring welder's goggles, and remember, whatever you do, don't look directly
at it.
~Destined to be destitute when the electric bill arrives in 1999,
Chrissie, Alan, Nikki & Kilory
weis@htcomp.net
P.S. Thank you, Helen, for sharing the best seats in the house at the Bass Performance Hall for The Nutcracker ballet! It was the best! So are you!)
Kilory
& Nikki, 12-14-98
Kilory
& Nikki at the Forest Park Train Depot, 11-3-98
Mermaids
Kilory & Nikki, 9-28-98
We hope you enjoy your visit.
