And the cow's in the moon.

Yesterday morning my entire schedule was derailed by a piece of string. Emily was trying to show me some finger magic tricks with a piece of ribbon, and one of the "moves" reminded me of something. . . .loop around both palms, thread onto your middle finger. . . hmmm.

Cat's Cradle. I was sucked back through the continuum of time (insert cinematic rewind dream sequence) to the playground at Apple Valley Elementary School. G once asked me if, after graduating from the primary grades, I moved on to Sweet Valley High. Apparently all the grade schools in his hometown were named after dead presidents, and he thought "Apple Valley" was quite kitsch. I loved to play Cat's Cradle with colorful yarn.

Talk about simple pleasures. I got stuck at the Candlesticks, and so we consulted both the Daring Book for Girls and then googled. We played for so long I ended up stuffing dollar bills in their backpack for the cafeteria because I had neglected to make their sack lunches. I watched her walk to school with a Cat's-in-the-Cradle string around her neck, ready to instruct her playground chums. I think I shed a tear in that brief cheesy history-repeats-itself mommy moment. (If only she had a perm and teddy bear sweater. . . )

Tomorrow: Chinese Jump Roap.

ERB

At last.

I went out for lunch with a dear friend today. The weather is perfect. She and I were the only persons dining on the patio - a crowd of well over 50 - who were not wearing a kelly green cotton cable knit sweater.

There are a few things I have been putting off. They're not the things you would probably guess. (The toilet is already clean and I already cut all the dead stuff off of the perennial ornamental grasses in front of the Cabin.) To begin with, I had procrastinated putting the finishing touches on a baby gift. Ordinarily this is a task I would have completed months in advance. But going out to the sun/craft porch and seeing all of my unfinished and yet uninitiated projects made me sad. So I avoided finishing the gift, or doing anything creative for that matter. Adding insult to subconscious injury was the fact that it was a quick and simple project. I only needed to do a few burpcloths. . . .

and wrap them up with some eco-wipes. My expecting friend knows that she is having a boy. She has a marvelously sophisticated sense of humor. I always aspire to give unusually wrapped packages to people like her.

The second thing I have been avoiding is answering the voicemail. I had not, until 10 minutes ago, listened to our messages since March 8th. There is - I guess - a staccato beeping sound in the dial tone to let me know when messages are in the system. Beeping dialtone? From where I answer the phone two little girls can be heard singing soprano at all times, and I have a clear view of the puppy outside eating the neighbor's siding. I am probably not going to notice a beeping dialtone. Now, if someone could hardwire my toaster to lock up automatically when someone leaves me a voicemail, I would in all likelihood listen to the answering machine a hell of a lot more often.

At last I have finished the package and listened to the messages. I probably will not go out and celebrate by buying a cable knit sweater. Happy St. Patrick's Day.
ERB

Absence

I've largely been absent at Cabin Life for the last two weeks. Every morning I sit down at the keyboard to check the weather, read e-mail, and maybe do a little homework. I log onto blogger and draw a blank. So hold on for a long ride as I cover two agenda items today: 1. EllieRichellie Label Jam results, and 2. Reflection.

First things first: Everyone gets jam. I took the entries to not less than three different audiences - family and strangers alike - and no clear winner could be determined. So, with an unanticipated nod to absolutism, I will use them all at my own discretion, but happily send jam packages to Jessie, Jamie, Mardy, and Kate.

Now for the reflection. I got in the Miscellaneous Baking Stuff drawer this morning to locate walnuts for our banana pancakes, and found this stash of empty wrappers. A little like an alcoholic who awakens from a drunken stupor to find six or eight empty gin bottles on the bathroom floor, I guiltily knew I had eaten all of this chocolate.

I don't usually apply the word "stress" to my life - it's overused and underappreciated. Not only that, but I don't really have anything to be "stressed" about -I am not a combat field nurse, or the mother of eight, or a boardmember at the Federal Reserve. But from time to time I feel the full weight of my chosen station: mom, wife, taxpayer, student, dreamer. That's when I turn to the Green & Black, munching away in the Cabin kitchen like a chain smoker in her car on a lunch break. I don't much feel like blogging on the chocolate days. I don't want to admit that I am thinking about whether or not we're going to buy a house this year and where. Or how much the girls' world will change when I am a full-time graduate student this fall. Or that I am addicted to the book Lords of Finance, but it is making me freak out about long term interest rates and unemployment. Or that Caroline has started growth hormone therapy that costs more annually than a compact car. Or that my husband works so much some weeks that he gets lost on his way home from the office.

I may choose less, but not less-like-Ted-Kazinsky: my Cabin is still in the real world. The real world currently presents this family with a lot of very big decisions. I get into my own head. I think that my silence here is because I am still reconciling my recent real world concerns (weighty, though not necessarily a source of discontent) with a crafty, bloggy Cabin Life persona that I would like to be here.

ERB

Like my magic act?

Isn't that cool. . how I can magically disappear? The Great EllieRichellini!! Watch her disappear into the blogosphere for UP TO ONE WEEK at a time.. . Amazing!!

I have to share the two Label Jam entries I received over the weekend before announcing the winner on Free Pass Friday, which is tomorrow.

From HsuMama. . .

And KatieKate. . .

See you tomorrow!
ERB