While attending a staff meeting today, I was reminded of a funny thing that happened on Halloween a few years ago. I used to work at a bank branch. Every so often we were supposed to have robbery drills before work. We'd have to follow all of the procedures as if we were really being robbed and police were informed in advance of the drill so they wouldn't waste their resources on responding to a fake robbery.

We never knew when we were going to get robbed, only that it happened during staff meetings (held prior to opening the branch.) If someone was missing, it didn't usually occur to us that we were having a drill. We just assumed they were out ill.

One year our manager had the brainy idea of holding this on Halloween. Imagine this scenario if you will.

Our normally very serious investment rep got to be the robber that day. He decided to dress as a clown for Halloween. Big polka-dotted costume, huge clown shoes, and a huge blue fro-type of wig, and of course, a big round clown nose.

We were in our staff meeting and we hear a pounding on the door. There's bozo standing there with a rifle (it was a piece of wood carved like a rifle.) We go through the drill and all have a good laugh about how the "robber" is dressed and get back to our staff meeting.

The phone rings and it's the police. They said that there is a hysterical woman in the parking lot where our branch was located. She saw someone dressed like a clown holding a gun, get out of the car and break into the branch. The officer knew that we were having a drill, but wanted to verify that this "clown" was one of our employees. I was laughing so hard that tears were coming out of my eyes. That poor woman, I can't imagine what she must have been thinking!

And people think banking is so serious. Ha...

I got a call from my youngest son (he's 21) last night. The one who had the pen cap surgically removed. After that phone call, I'm wondering if part of his brain was removed too.

The phone call starts innocently enough; the "how are you" and "I'm fine" stuff. "Yeah, work is going well, blah blah blah". Then this; "Mom, I feel really bad about something."

At the speed of light, I'm flashing thoughts in my head; "he hit a dog with his car", "he lost his job", "he got another pen cap stuck up his nose". I was prepared for any of it. I wasn't prepared for the following conversation.

Casey (son #2): Do you know if Cameron (son #1) and Camerong (son#1's girlfriend) are broken up?
Me: Well, Cameron did call me a couple of nights ago and told me that he's thinking about it. But, that's not for me to tell you. You should ask him. Why do you want to know? (thinking, that's why he feels really bad. He's sad that Cameron and Camerong aren't doing well... how sweet!)
Casey: Well something happened between me and Camerong last night.
Me: (thinking uh- oh.... I'm not liking where this is headed...)
Me: What do you mean sweet boy? (yeah, that's what mommy calls him... get over it.)
Casey: Well, without going into detail; alcohol, hot tubs, and Camerong was involved. Oh, and she had her top off. I feel really bad.
Me: Am I to assume that you were involved in this scenario somehow? (still trying to keep Casey innocent in my mind.)
Casey: Yes. We were kissing and stuff. I feel really bad, and I think Cameron is going to beat the crap out of me.
Me: (thinking about how maybe she wasn't so wrong afterall with her initial and subsequent impressions of Camerong)
Me: I think you'd better fess up to your brother.
Casey: I'm just waiting for the right time.
Me: (snickering to herself... good luck in that one, sweetie pie...)

I'm not overly concerned that Cameron is going to be too upset with Casey. They're best friends. Casey happens to have a habit of collecting Cameron's ex-girlfriends. Kinda gross if you ask me. Cameron was telling me a couple of nights ago that he's not sure he wants to be with Camerong anymore and feels really guilty about it. I'm thinking this is a "get out of jail free" card.

I wanted to tell Casey to save the drama for his mama, but......

Tonight we're putting down a substantial amount of earnest money on a house. It took me almost three weeks to get warmed up to the idea because it's, well, scary. It took me longer to get accustomed to the idea than it did to get accustomed to the idea of getting married.

It all just happened to fall together. We weren't planning to do this until next spring, but hubby got bored one day and went to a real estate web site. We found a house that we thought we'd just love and decided that if it was *it*, then we'd do it. We saw it and it wasn't *it*. But the realtor WAS it. He just so happened to have recently sold a lot to a builder that was planning to build a house that sounded very much like what we wanted.

We went home that night and looked at floor plans at an online site, and didn't see anything that really met all of our needs. Just bits from one and pieces from another. The realtor faxed the floor plan to us the next day, and wouldn't you know it... it had EVERYTHING that we wanted. It was bigger than we had planned, but at least now we'll have bedrooms for our guests to stay in since we're going to be out in the boondocks.

We chewed on it for a good two weeks before deciding that yes, we must do this. We will never find anything more perfect for us. Besides the house being perfect, the lot is perfect. Lots of land (i.e.; lots of privacy), but no upkeep to speak of. Very VERY little lawn. The road up to our house (driveway) will be paved. There will be a courtyard turnaround in front of the house (for fire trucks... it's code..), maybe lawn in the middle.. maybe just an English garden. According to the city code, we have to have lots of certain types of plants to go with the salmon stream that is in the nature reserve abutting our home. The plants must attract birds and butterflies. OK by me.. no upkeep, plus the whole nature thing going on... The back of the house will have a small lawn probably... only for parties, but mostly surrounded by natural greenery. I plan to put up bird houses and feeders in the back, and maybe a greenhouse.

I can absolutely visualize us in this house. I can visualize myself planting my gardens in the spring. I can visualize looking off the balcony to the nature reserve next to our house. I can even visualize making some new friends in the neighborhoods next to us. It so happens that the realtor and his wife (whom we've met and like very much) and the builder live in the neighborhood to the left of the house.

Here are the lot and plans, if you're interested.




So, tonight we sign up for our new life.

I was watching baseball (ok, I wasn't really watching, I really dislike sports...) and was reminded of a story about my youngest son. This happened when he was about 7 and playing in little league, which was 14 years ago.

I had taken him to the doctor for yet another infection of some sort. He'd been plagued with sinus, eye and lung infections from the time he was about two. He also had lots of headaches and HORRIBLE, NASTY breath. During this visit, the doctor was looking up his nose and said that he saw something up there. He got some tweezer-like instrument and started tugging on it. It wouldn't budge, plus it really was hurting my son, so he stopped and scheduled surgery for the next day.

I was not prepared for what the doctor would tell me after surgery. My son had a bic pen cap up his nose. Have you seen a bic pen cap? They're at least an inch long! Worse, it looked as if it'd been up his nose for YEARS. There I was, cradling my unconscious little 7 year old in my lap and I started laughing. I laughed so hard that tears were falling down my face. I'm sure the doctor thought I was a nutcase. But do you blame me? What kid has to go under general anesthesia to get a pen cap removed from his nose? MY KID, that's who!

His older brother then remembered the day that said pen cap went up the nose. They went to work with their dad and were messing around. My youngest was probably almost three. He shoved it up his nose so far that he couldn't get it out, and they were both afraid to tell their dad for fear of getting in trouble.

So, the thing worked its way up into his sinus cavity, causing all the infections and bad breath over those 5 years. FIVE YEARS! It took being beaned by a softball in his nose that brought the thing down far enough for the doctor to see it. Interestingly enough, all the infections (and bad breath) stopped immediately once the cap was removed.

The doctor kept that pen cap for his museum of things he's removed from people's orifices, and I kept the memory of the surprised look from my son's doctor as I was laughing hysterically in the recovery room.

This is a very public letter to my brother; the most recent addition to my blog viewers.

I've been thinking about why I was so prompted to call you on Tuesday evening. I told you the weird circumstances that lead up to it, and why sis and I thought *it* happened. I was glad to hear that you were all right. Well, physically anyway.

When you called me Wednesday after reading my blog for the first time, the reason for needing to call you seemed much more clear to me. You sounded so light hearted when we talked on Wednesday; vastly different than the brother I talked to on Tuesday. You told me that you were laughing out loud while reading some of my posts. Perhaps that prompting to call you wasn't any national emergency, but just the fact that I needed to send a little laughter your way.

You've shared with me before that I always know how to make you laugh. I'm so glad. You and "sis" are two people that I'd do anything for. You're my heart. You both are. If you ever feel alone, just know that you're very special to me. You and sis, my first loves,..... my family.

Now... back to my regularly scheduled blogging...