2 Exhausted 2 Write Newsletter 2005

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
2005

Duct tape, chocolate, and peanut butter. Some years there just isn't enough of them.

I'm thinking I've got enough Christmas trees, though:

1. Travel- and Greatpa-carved-ornaments tree.

2. Disney Eeyore tree.

3. Classic Eeyore tree.

4. Dr. Suess tree.

5. Snoopy ornaments on a purple tinsel tacky tree like in the tacky tree lot in "Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown."

6. Eskimo "Frosty Friends" tree.

7. Angel-, and African-American Santa Claus-ornaments tree.

8. Nutcracker tree. Mosey over here if you're wondering why there are pretzels on the Nutcracker tree, or why there's a Nutcracker tree...

9. Nature tree.

10. The 7-8 foot regular tree.

11. The tree in the girls' room (not pictured).

12. The tree in my room (not pictured).

I'm thinking I've got enough Christmas trees. (I'd like to add a Ralphie and the Red Ryder BB Gun/Old Man and His "Fragile" Major Award tree...but then I think I'd be officially certifiable.) I dunno. What do you think? (P.S. Bruno knocked over the Disney Eeyore, which broke mercury glass ornaments and fatally injured the tree. A larger tree was purchased and Disney and Classic Eeyores consolidated into one tree. What to do with a left over tree? "Ralphie!" It has an ill-fated turkey on top; the infamous leg lamp -- mine is a night light; fortune cookies like one would get at a Chinese restaurant; Ovaltine; and Randy's long, long, winding scarf -- Veronique taught me how to knit at 3:30 12/13/05 so the scarf is still a work in progress, as is the tree.)

A tribute to two mothers:
1. Alan's mother, Ruth Gantz Weis, died August 10. A recurring theme at the funeral (at which the SDA North American Division President spoke) was her helpfulness, and her encouragement-letter ministry. She sent at least 60 letters a week. A young man who had left the church asked his mother about Mrs. Weis last winter. She told him of the stomach cancer (diagnosed September 2004). He knew something bad must have happened because "the letters stopped coming."

2. My mom, Alice LaPreal Morrison Cummings, is well and every week helping anyone who needs a hand. Every Wednesday, Alice drove Ruth to her chemo treatments, unless it was a continuing-treatment-decision day, in which case Carl took Ruth. But other than those days, Mom took Ruth to chemo. When Ruth entered the hospice, Mom took Vialo every day, stayed with him, fetched lunch, and made sure Ruth was comfortable. On the last day, all three of us sat vigil together in the afternoon. Mom helped in every way in which she was allowed from the beginning. She's a ministering angel.

At 10 p.m., January 30th I was rushed to the ER. Mom whisked the girls to "the farm", where she comforted and reassured them. The failure to diagnose my excruciating kidney blockage for three days, by which time I was dangerously septic, resulted in Mom taking care of my girls (and husband, and me) until February 28. I spent a week in ICU with surgery and two days on a ventilator. As the vent breathed for me, I thought "Chrissie unable to speak – I could sell tickets to this!"* When I was released from the hospital I was too weak to hold my head up or gasp more than a sentence (again I thought I ought to sell tickets). Alan and I moved in with Mom and Dad and the girls. Mom did everything and, at first, she even had to bathe me. I had been/was in baaad shape. We moved home on 2/28. I was back in the ER on 3/9, so Mom had to step up to The Plate all over again. I had a second surgery on 3/11 and insisted on being released so I wouldn't miss Norbert and Kendall's belated birthday party on the 12th. I wasn't a vigorous party-er, but I was there! My busy mom sent me with her homemade cherry cheesecake – Norbert's favorite. Mom and Dad gave us substantial money to help with the substantial medical bills. (When I saw the bill for the urologist alone I sobbed aloud, truthfully, that a funeral would have been cheaper.)
A tribute to two mothers (and a dad). (Another great thing about Mom: I bought her "The Beach Boys' Greatest Hits" for her 66th birthday – She absolutely loves it!)

*I also thought while in ICU: "It's not so bad that I've been in ICU for days. It's no big deal. They put diabetics in ICU quickly because they die so easily, so just because I've been in here for days doesn't mean it's that serious." Once the morphine wore off (a couple of months later) it hit me: "...they put diabetics in ICU quickly because they die so easily...oh, wait -- I'm a diabetic. I'm a diabetic! Oy vey!"

From the past two newsletters: "Alan toils at Seminars Unlimited. They're still building their new campus. Alan's hand-dug well in the back yard remains at 2000 A.D. status." Nothing has changed. But after three years he finally finished repairing the bathroom! I have a shower! He's The Adventurer "Story Guy," and helps whenever he gets a chance at Pathfinders. He's in good health and spirits.

From the past two newsletters: "Kilory loves horses, archery, and fencing. Nikki still lives with her nose in a book, and collects/creates recipes." Nothing has changed. Nikki hums often to Kilory's irritation. They're in Fifth Grade with Mrs. Blackburn. "A"s with one circumstantial-"B" between them. They're still violinists in the orchestra. Kilory is learning French horn, and Nikki clarinet. They belong to a Pathfinders Club, and are junior counselors in an Adventurer Club. They know I'm silly, but love me still. I said to Kilory: "You think I'm weird, don't you?" Kilory: "Who doesn't?"

Family archives:

Kilory's namesake Julie (Kilroy) Olson Boone gave birth to Janey Lenoa Boone 12/10/04. Kilory told me her teacher was going to read from a book what her name meant on Kilory's birthday. We pulled faces at each other. Then I wrote down on a piece of paper what Kilory's name means, for her teacher to read:

1. Keyboard transposition.

2. "My mom can't type the name 'Kilroy' quickly."

Just go with her other namesake's name -- "Alexandra" -- because "Violet" and "LaPreal" aren't going to get you anywhere, either!

Alan's cousin Elaine Chastain (Randy Chastain's mom) died 6/17/05 from pancreatic cancer.

Our 11-year-old, 7# Maltese, ZsaZsa Moxie Hufflepuff Esmé Squalor Weis, was shanghaied by vacationing Virginians while I was in the ICU.

In March I sought out a female Chihuahua mix on petfinder.com to name Ruby Tequila Gringo Killer. The year-old, 9# mutt I met at the Dallas Forney Road Shelter turned out to be Cha-Cha Chiapet Boquita Hermione Gryffindor Weis. Cha-Cha because in "Grease" Cha-Cha had crazy hair. Cha-Cha Chiapet because of the ad jingle. Chiapet because she looks like a Jack Russell/rat terrier/Chihuahua crossed with a Chiapet. Chia because it means "squeaks" in Portuguese. She doesn't yap/bark – she talks/squeaks. Boquita ("little mouth") because when dogs are around she talks and Talks and TALKS. If it's a big dog, Chia's talk would make sailors blush – which explains her last middle name. Hermione because it is a favorite wild-haired character in a favored British book series (given a green light by the Children's Ministries portion of the SDA General Conference website). Finally – Gryffindor because it is the school house one is put in (in the same favored book series) if one is brave. One is put in Ravenclaw if one is smart (see explanation for Boquita). Besides, Gryffindor sounds gruffy, scruffy, and scrappy. To tell the truth, Chia is named what she is because we don't know how to say "sparky microwaved Brillo pad with a sweet pink tummy" in Portuguese or Swahili. She moved in on March 27. She now owns Alan and bosses 116# Sylvia and 78# Bruno.

The big dogs guard our front window so well they first cracked the pane then busted it out completely. Beware our dogs! But Bill and Wally the cats still own us and our house.

I wanted to look good as CTA Alumni President at my 20th academy reunion in March. After two surgeries, I could stand, put on makeup, and brush my hair. That was as good as it got! In April half my hair fell out due to post-septic/ICU/fever stress. I felt I looked so scuzzy that I wanted to crawl under a rock. Instead, I crawled to Curves. I liked it so much I insisted they hire me. They gave in and made me marketing manager. I'm a trainer, too. Mommy-friendly hours and the corporate color is PURPLE! It's destiny. At last! I get paid to wear weird outfits, weird hair, weird hats, walk and talk and dance myself silly to create fun, and a good mood while ladies are exercising! I'm paid to be a riot, i.e. myself. Is this good or bad for my mental health?

On a day in May I saw four teen boys burst from a Suburban and scramble to a box office. Each screamed exultantly as he paid for and received his (advance) ticket for "Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith." They punched the air, screaming "Sith!" They punched each other, chanting "Star Wars! Star Wars! Star Wars!" They assumed martial arts stances, shrieking "'Star Wars' rules!" They bounded back to the Suburban yelping in delight.
I bemusedly shook my head, thinking "We're happy, you're happy, but DUDES! you're making fools of yourselves. We know you're fans, but good gravy!"
I stepped up to the box office window and noticed that the cashier was grinning at me from ear to ear. It was then I suddenly remembered I was standing in line with my daughters, all three of us with towels around our necks, wearing bath robes over our clothes. I blushed and grinned back at her. "Two kids and one adult for 'Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy,' please."

In June Alan worked a week at Nameless Valley Ranch as "The Story Guy" and canoe teacher (allowing Nikki and Kilory to attend free). In July they took off again for Oklahoma Campmeeting.

We wanted Sally to come here for Katrina, but she stayed in Vancleave, Miss. The morning after Katrina, Dad got a short, scratchy, patchy phone call from Vancleave saying loved ones were safe and well, but little else. Mom couldn't stop crying because she wanted to go help. Watching the news, I couldn't stop stumbling around chanting "Thank God, Sally's safe." We would have been quite literally out of our minds if not for that blip of a phone call. Sharon's Vancleave house lost its roof. Sally's Pascagoula one-block-from-the-beach home is uninhabitable. Sally said all she needed was a "1 pound box of assorted See's candy" and a replacement Il Divo CD. I sent them at once (using Dad's money) and threw in a Michael Bublé CD. Il Divo brought a sense of continuity, and in November FEMA finally brought a trailer. Sally's account and photos of Katrina.

Labor Day Week was spent at the Denny cabin in Black Lake, New Mexico with the Wiists. As usual, we haunted the Living History Rendezvousin Angel Fire. At left is Kermit the Mountain Man (the teeth are fake;the beard and the hat are not) whose brother "offered to buy" the girls for a mule and a shovel. At right, Michael poses with other "Old West Costume" nominees -- or at least that's what we're telling his mother!

We played on the hillside and fished in between trips to Taos. I want my ashes scattered at the cabin, right around "my rock" where I sit every morning looking into the green valley, at the reflective lake, at the cabin from "Lonesome Dove", and at all the critters coming to land/crawl all over me looking for sunflower seeds. Pictured outside the cabin are the blondes with their 14" rainbow trout. Veronique, however, caught the largest rainbow trout of the week.

The van Alan bought off Ebay for $500 in 2003 finally got its transmission replaced. I don't like dull brown cars, nor cars with a really bad paint job. But it was $500+transmission and I was stuck with it. So I turned my dull brown vehicle into a Scooby Doo van by cutting and painting magnetic vent covers into Scooby spots and placing them over the worst of the lousy paint job spots. It has Scooby Doo car seat covers, Scooby Doo blankets inside, and is also covered with Scooby Doo clings on the outside. The two antennas have custom-made/Chrissie-made Scooby Doo antenna toppers. It is the weirdest/tackiest?/craziest vehicle around, but I'm the coolest mom in the carpool lane. On the highway and in parking lots it's fun to see the happy faces staring at my car, and kids squealing, and people honking and waving. It's also easy to spot my vehicle in the parking lot. If you can't have nice things, have fun things!

Kilory donated her hair to Locks of Love, a not-for-profit organization that provides hairpieces to financially disadvantaged children under the age of 18 with medical hair loss. One can find participating salons at locksoflove.org.

One of the things you get to do when you're an Adventurer or an Adventurer junior counselor, is getting to go ice skating at the Parks Mall with area Adventurers. And if you're really lucky, you get to skate with Uncle Donald (Hines) and cousin Jesse!

We won second place in Artistic Impression at the Christmas Parade. We were aiming at Quick and Ridiculous. I lost weight during the parade...it was so cold my bippy froze riiiight off.

Have a realistically contented 2006, and stock up on duct tape, chocolate, and peanut butter: you'll never know when you'll need them.

Chrissie, Alan, Nikki & Kilory
alan_christine@sbcglobal.net

P.S. Remember when you're shopping: Disaster-Area.org has an associates link to Amazon.com. Purchases made through this link benefit the Wes Stoops Scholarship at Southwestern.

We hope you enjoy your visit.