45 x 365 #269

269/365 - DM

It's true that you're a gifted linguist. It's also true that you are as annoying as hell. Everything in your life gets blown up to epic proportions. Your insistence on "talking it out" leaves us with little time to get any real work done.


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In an unrelated note, we're off for the grand tour of the Midwest, Snowpacolpse be damned. I won't be posting for a couple of weeks. Have a great holiday season!!

45 x 365 #268

268/365 - JS

You are super friendly, the perfect person in the front of the office, making everyone feel at ease as they walked in. Sadly, you could not file, transfer phone calls without hanging up, and you stole from the organization. You avoided jail, but just barely.

Do This

Psuedostoops is doing an awesome thing on her blog. She's donating 50 cents to an organization, The Women's Treatment Center, for every comment left on this post. Go leave a comment and feel good about yourself for the rest of the day!!

And, if you want to feel really righteous, considering writing a check for a local non-profit in your area today. Year end tax write-offs and everything, but also because it's really needed right now. Two organizations I care about very much are in dire need of funds right now. One is the charter school where I work (the lights are getting turned off next week and we're not sure about the doors staying open) and the other is WATCH, an awesome court monitoring organization here in the Minneapolis area. I won't link to my school (hi! I don't want my blogging identity to be found out!), but I will link to WATCH (their donation page is here). Maybe instead of spending that $25 on stockings, gaudy ornaments, and $5 gift cards for the Secret Santa gift exchange, you could donate that money to a worthy cause. You'll feel so much better about yourself afterward...I promise!

45 x 365 #267

267/365 - WFH

Ours was a relationship built on resentment and hatred. You were in my way, you took away my friend, and you made my life a temporary hell. I was in your way, I took time away from your girlfriend, and I made your life hell.

45 x 365 #266

266/365 - RT

Steaming coffee mug. White, static filled hair. Misbuttoned shirt. Crooked eyetooth. Red pen in pocket. Lanyard trailing out of pants pocket. Clogs no matter what the season! Tenor voice, always with a different accent. Drakkar wafting in the air. Pied Piper of the teenaged set.

The Truth of Cat Ownership

Next week the cat is leaving us. Our friends N and M are coming back to take her home. While we are totally excited to have friends back in the Twin Cities, we are very sad to see her little fluffy face leave our home. She has been an incredibly vital member of our household these last five months, but we know that her "real" parents are indeed her "real" parents.

So, lest I get too depressed that the only pet I'll probably ever have is going away, I made up a list of pros and cons about our pet "ownership" with Dae.

Pro: Fluffy, orange kitty on laps when it is really cold outside!
Con: Fluffy, orange kitty fur all over our house and clothing!

Pro: Fuzzy, orange fluff ball greeting you with a rousing and welcoming meow when you come home from work.
Con: Fuzzy, orange fluff ball yowling at night because you have closed the bedroom door and she really wants attention/to be in your nice, warm bed with you.

Pro: You're never alone in the apartment. Company is always available when needed.
Con: Tripping over cat first thing in the morning when you're trying to get to the bathroom can lead to upsetting falls/hurt paws/hysteria.

Pro: Cat not "making it" when jumping on to chair/table/lap is hysterically funny.
Con: Cleaning out the litter box is totally not funny.

Pro: Conversations had in the cat's voice lead to insightful views on your spouse's innermost thoughts and feelings on the most mundane of activities.
Con: Even though we stopped letting her drink out of the bathroom faucet months ago, she still insists on climbing onto the bathroom counter and barking at us whenever we're in the bathroom.

Pro: The revving motorboat of the cat's purr always makes you smile.
Con: Sometimes it is more fun to play with the cat than to do work, making productivity at home somewhat low.

Pro: Always something to talk about with your spouse.
Con: Always talk about the cat with your spouse so that important things don't get discussed.

Pro: Cat is always cute and photogenic.
Con: Cat doesn't like to be brushed and her fur requires brushing every day. Scratches may result.

Pro: Who needs a hot pad? I've got a vibrating cat!
Con: Cat declares need for fresh water half a dozen times a day. (In her defense, I like my water to be really cold, too, so I am guilty of giving into her on this one.)

Pro: Cat jumping really high to chase Da Bird is amazing to watch. The athleticism in a cat, even one as old and clumsy as Dae, is awesome.
Con: When cat gets sick and stops eating, it is very scary. (She totally eats now. I am almost embarrassed to show her to N and M when they get back. She is. . . a bit chunkier than we N dropped her off.)

Pro: Cat on husband's lap is the most adorable thing to see when you get home.
Con: Hairballs. Nuff said.

Pro: Enjoying a variety of options for the dialect of the cat. I prefer bitchy southern belle, the boy prefers air headed blond.
Con: Cat still jumps on the table. Still.

Pro: Hairstyles of the cat. Mohawk down the back is the best!
Con: Pointy parts of cat may be used when hairstyles are attempted.

Pro: An excuse to go into pet stores. Must buy toys! Litter! Food!!
Con: Must come up with solution for someone to check on kitty when we go out of town.

Pro: Unconditional love from the cat.
Con: Must give cat back!! Sob!!

45 x 365 #265

265/365 - ST

I thought you were going to break. Your second child was diagnosed with PKU and just two months later your healthy older child was diagnosed with epilepsy. You told me, tears in your eyes, how lucky you felt that you could take care of them.

45 x 365 #264

264/365 - RP

Your mother calls it, rather euphemistically and certainly optimistically, a problem with temper. I call it, a bit more honestly and more unkindly, a problem with immaturity. You're too old for your tantrums. Your parents are scared of you; your siblings hate you. Grow up.

Gift Guide for Her (or Me, However You Interpret It)

The promised gift guide for what to get a borderline crazy 30ish woman for Christmas. Namely, me. If I was buying stuff for myself, here's what I'd get.

First, this lovely 7 Bracelet from Twisted Silver. I have been not so secretly coveting this bracelet for months. At $50, it's a bit pricey, but, hey, you do what you have to do for the bangle. I have been stalking this piece for months and it's yet to go on sale, so I'm thinking it might never. So as a Christmas present, this would be divine because I'm never going to pony up that much money.

A cheaper option would be to send me this, the World's Smallest Letter, from Leafcutter Designs. Each letter is only $8! Wax seal and magnifying glass included in the price! A bargain in my mind, but again, it's sort of a crazy mind, so what do I know?
But, enough frivolity, let's talk clothes. I don't know about the rest of the girls in your life, but I lust after Shabby Apple dresses, especially the entire Carousel line. Shabby Apple has dresses with sleeves with no low-plunging v-necks that require more layering than a novitiate on Easter (two of my biggest complaints about most of the dresses I find at malls these days).

This dress, Cotton Candy, I would probably sacrifice my oldest niece for. Okay, maybe not, but it would be a hard decision. At $93 I probably won't be getting it, but see, that's what the Christmas list is all about. Things I would never pay for.
Seriously, NGS? Pink paisley? That's your idea of beauty. Hell yeah. But if you don't like it, what do you think of this one? The Carnival, from the selfsame Carousel line, is also to die for. Don't you think I'd look hot, albeit a bit chunkier than this lady whose legs I would kill to have, in this color?

Enough with that. No one's going to buy you a dress for Christmas. It's cold outside and whatnot. (For the record, today - high of 4 above - I wore a dress with leg warmers. I'm stylin', baby.) So what else?

Maybe a Bicycle Paper Suitcase Set from Pink Loves Brown. Dudes, this was on my list last year. I really want it. $38 and you get a set of 10 stationery, 6 blank notecards, and a paper suitcase in the color of your choice (brown, if anyone cares). The stationery could be personalized, if you're into that kind of thing, but frankly I'm not. Look how pretty! It comes with a bow!!

Well, I'm sick of your independent stores, bitch. I want something I can order from that behemoth called amazon. Fine. I'm interested in the second season of the Gilmore Girls. I have season one and I'd like to add to my collection. ($27.60 at that superstore of the Interwebs.)
That's too much for your budget? Do this girl a favor and consider the soulful crooning of 25 Number Ones from the man with the hair, Conway Twitty. My love for Conway is deep. (There are two lyrics I sing to my husband almost every day - "I've gotta party in my pocket and you know I just got paid" from Bon Jovi's 99 in the Shade and "That's my job/That's what I do/Everything I do I do for you/To keep you here with me/That's my job, you see" from Conway Twitty's That's My Job. I'm so predictable the boy just looks at me when there's an opening for one of those songs. I sing them. That's my job you see.) Oh, yeah, this CD is an awesome $10.38 at that giant place of music and books.

But, see, I spend most of my time trolling independent stores. I couldn't leave some of my bookmarked favorited items from Etsy off this list. First up, this awesome amber safety pin necklace from MysticLilly. All right, fine, it's been sold. But it's pretty and I bet it jingle jangles which is my number one criteria for bracelets. She has tons more in different colors (I like the brown and gold, what can I say?) and they run about $22. Go buy some.

No, you're sick of my requests for bracelets? Well, how about this awesome Owl Bag? It's from Deadworry's shop. I love it and I bet my husband would even ask to borrow it. No, you think the owl is too feminine? Well, maybe. But how cute! And such a handy size. At $25, I should have snatched one up for every woman on my Christmas list. I didn't do that, but I'm going to seriously consider it for next year.
And, last buy not least, a necklace from A Fine Distraction. It's cute with a little acorn and I'm absolutely digging on the copper chain. I think copper and brass are going to be my new obsession. I love the way they aren't really gold or silver and they can be mixed and matched without violating all the crazy rules I have about mixing metallics.


In addition to these fine items, I believe I sent my father an email in October requesting a slow cooker, a Joy of Cooking cookbook, and a set of herbs for our windowsill. What I was thinking about getting herbs to grow in Minnesota in the middle of winter is beyond my understanding, but it was October!! I didn't have a list then!! Shop well my friends!!

45 x 365 #263

263/365 - LP

A sweet girl all grown up into a sullen teenager. How much of the change is attributable to your parents' benign neglect, your intrinsic angst, or suburban environment from hell? Whichever, your aunt says you're a good girl at heart. I sure hope she's right.

Holiday Gift Guide

Last year I wrote a gift guide and it's been pretty popular. I guess people really care about what neurotic types who put a lot of thought into gifts get others for the holidays. This year I'm going to be just a bit more specific about who is getting what from me this year.

First up, the boy. My husband's hobbies are cycling, photography, and playing guitar. He had several things on his wish list this year: a pocket knife, a grey fedora (right), and a gift card to a local bicycle shop because he's getting a custom frame made and he's going to spend approximately a billion dollars tricking his new bike out.

The hat I'm going to get at a store in St. Paul called Heimie's Haberdashery. I'm estimating its cost at about $50, but I'll update that after I've actually purchased it. I am too late to order a knife, but I'd really like to get him a Boker knife. Maybe for his birthday. Inevitably, the boy is also going to get some argyle socks and some tshirts. Don't say I'm not romantic!!! (Most of my present will be in the form of the gift card to the bike shop, though. I think it's what he wants the most.)

Plus, I really want to start our own Christmas traditions, even though we are never "home" during the actual day. I'm going to buy a leather journal and every major event in our lives, I want to write in the journal where we were, what happened, and maybe stick a picture in it. That journal is going under the tree and we'll do our first entry when we open it. Also, I want to get a special ornament for our tree each year. This year I also ordered an ornament from RockCandyVintage that is personalized with our initials on it. I haven't yet gotten it in the mail, but I'm expecting it any day. ($15)


I got a relatively easy pick for my Secret Santa draw at work this year. Last year I had the music teacher and that was absurdly easy. This took just a bit more thought. I have the following gifts for her (one each day): a four pack of Godiva chocolates ($7) I picked up at the Mall of America yesterday (yes, I am crazy), a six pack of notecards I picked up at 75% off when a store was going out of business earlier this yet, a chat pack of conversation starters I picked up at that same store, a pocket mirror I got as a free gift from BeeDazzleGifts when I ordered some cards earlier this year, and some wall art. It's actually similar to the one below, but instead of saying LOVE it says ART. (I work at a performing arts high school - it totally makes sense in context). ($35 at The Afternoon)
My mother has everything on the planet. My sister told me that she had purchased season two of an old television series for her and if I could purchase the third and final season, that would be great. So I did. ($36.49 at amazon)

My sister is a fan of scary books and movies. I went ahead and got her this book at The Afternoon, too. It's an "interactive" mystery solving book. I'm a bit in love with it myself. ($24.95)
My sister is also crafty. I got her a rubber stamp with her name and address on it from RubberStampPress, another etsy shop. I stopped by a craft store and picked up three ink pads to put in the box with it. ($20.95 for this design - the prices range from $19.95 all the way up to $29.95)
I drew my seven month old niece in the kid's draw this year. (Ha ha. It's the first time there's been more than one niece. So it's the first time we've ever done a draw. That's why it's funny.) Anyway, her adjusted age is about four months old, so I just did an amazon search for what the best gifts are for babies her adjusted age, put in my price range, and picked the two top toys (her parents specifically requested toys - they just don't have a lot, I guess).

Voila! The Soothe and Glow Seahorse ($9.99 at amazon, although I paid $14.87 for it last week) gets five stars from reviewers. It does look pretty awesome.
The Baby Einstein Bendy Ball got 4 and a half stars from amazon reviewers. It doesn't look as cool, but the $5.99 price suckered me in (I had a $20 limit for the baby draw.)
In addition, I purchased a book for each of our nieces and nephews.

For the almost three year old girl, I got a hardcover Snowmen at Night by Caralyn Buehner with pictures by Mark Buehner. The pictures are beautiful.

For the just turned two year old boy, I got a softcover of Skippyjon Jones by Judy Schachner. I went with a softcover because chances are pretty good the little guy's just gonna rip the pages.

For the 14 month old boy, I went with Big Building Site, part of a John Deere series by Parachute Press. He lives in Iowa. It's a sturdy board book, but has some fun tabs he can play with. I think it's a good fit. (I do have gift receipts for all of these books in case the parents already have them, of course!)

For all three of the seven month old babies, I just went with little board books. I'm convinced one of the sets of parents doesn't read to their baby, so these books are mostly "please read to them!" hints. I got The Napping House by Audrey Wood and illustrated by Don Wood, The Mitten by Jan Brett, and The Snowy Day by Ezra Jack Keats.

My father is by far the most difficult person on my list. I ended up getting him a watch box from Fossil. Brace yourself because this is a hefty $95 price tag. I just did it because I had no other ideas. The man has no hobbies and he's just kind of a grumpapottamus, so there you have it. It's really awesome and I hope he likes it, but if he doesn't, I'm stealing it and taking it back and using it as my own jewelry box (nope, I'm totally not kidding - if he's not using it by the time we leave, I'm just going to take it back - it's too much money to go unused, or worse yet, destroyed by one of their four legged pets).
There you have it. I also have two very good friends who I shop for and, I might add, have some awesome presents for, but since one of them reads this, I don't want to give it away to her what she's going to be getting!! My shopping is nearly finished!! Whoo hoo!! Tomorrow, if I have time, I'm going to put up a list of things on my own personal wish list!!

45 x 365 #262

262/365 - MP

You're always so nice to me, attentive, interested in my answers to questions. But then I see how you parent, carelessly and sometimes cruelly, and what it's doing to your lovely and sensitive daughters and I wonder how you can possibly be the same person.

45 x 365 #261

261/365 - JM

A slightly pudgy, dark-haired woman wearing ill-fitting clothing who most of us wouldn't take a second look at on the street. It is a shame all those people look beyond you; with your generosity of spirit and knowledge, you are among the best of us.

45 x 365 #260

260/365 - AB

A giant of a man, tall, broad-shouldered, belly poking out over his belt buckle. He speaks nonsense most of the time, used to telling tall tales to his fellow day laborers, so that now we think he's confused about the differences between truth and fiction.

Books! Books! Books!

First up today is The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, a novel by Stieg Larsson. (It says exactly that on the super ugly cover of the book, so I'm kind of being snarky.) I read this book because I was told to by people on the Internet. I would link to those people, but as I search through the archives where I think I saw it, I can't find it. (So, if you see that someone in Minneapolis was looking at your archives for an unusual amount of time, hi! that was me.)

I bought this book and the clerk checking me out at Barnes and Noble was all pumped for me to read. "But it takes a while to get into it," she warned in a sort of frightening way.

A while is an understatement. This clerk at B&N has rarely steered me wrong before. This book IS good, but it takes 200 pages to get there (it's a dense book clocking in at 590 pages). In the end and in retrospect, I don't see what an editor could have cut out, but you have to have dedication to get through to the good part. Plus the book is similar to a lot of what I call "those Russian novels" in that you spend the first 100 pages just trying to figure out some of the Swedish names and colloquialisms. A good read, but you're really going to have to slog through the mire on this one.

Then we have The Good Thief by Hannah Tinti. It sucked me at the bookstore with this blurb on the back:

"An American Dickensian tale with touches of Harry Potterish whimsy..." The New York Times

What the fuck, NYT? Craptastic, that's what this book is. I don't get it. I found myself mostly confused by the setting. What year is it? Is it this world? It seems like this world except for the dead walking giant and the dwarf that lives in the chimney. The premise sounds so promising: orphan missing a hand, mysterious stranger takes him from the monks, con artists, a mousetrap factory!! The writing is good. Some sentences I just wanted to savor, to read and reread, to learn how to construct a sentence with more complexity than the declarative ones I use repeatedly in my own writing.

But the plot? The setting? The underdeveloped characters? Lead to me say that this book is a failure of execution.

This morning I finished Dedication by Emma McLaughlin and Nicola Kraus. I don't really understanding co writing fiction, so I'd be interested in learning more about their writing process. This book is structured so that just about every other chapter takes you back in time to the main character's adolescence and young adulthood while winding back to the present in the other chapters. I have a feeling one of the authors wrote the past chapters and one wrote the present chapters because the chapters written in the past were way more successful and moving. A brief plot summary: long lost jerky love finds girl in the present and hijinks ensue. A fun, light read, although the writing and language is inconsistent at times.

But I saved the best for last. Bestest Friend introduced me to Sarah Dessen's young adult books while we were in Chicago this past summer. I have since devoured the vast majority of the Dessen oeuvre (missing only ones I have on order at our public library). I briefly mentioned dreamland here before as a meh kind of book and while I still agree that book is meh, my flame of love shines deeply for Just Listen. This book? It's the book I brought with me on my recent trip for that awfully sad funeral. It's the book that's by my bedside when I need comfort after waking up in the middle of the night. It's my go to book right now.

That's right. It's young adult fiction. It's a book about a girl growing up. She faces challenges - acquaintance rape, a sister who is sick, and a super bitchy former best friend. But there's this boy. And, frankly, if Owen were a real life boy, I would fight tooth and nail to have him be my boyfriend (blech, forget the detail of how I'm married). I love this book. I love this book. I'm a teeny tiny embarrassed how much I love it, but I can't contain my excitement for it any longer.

(Also good Dessen reads: Along for the Ride and Lock and Key. They deal with very different teen "issues" - divorce and parental neglect/desertion respectively - but I found them both compelling reads. Maybe I am just a sucker for maudlin, over dramatic teen angst. Who cares? I love you, Sarah Dessen!!)

Someday soon I'll write about the Charlaine Harris Aurora Teagarden books. I bet you can hardly wait!!

45 x 365 #259

259/365 - SB

It's hard being the newcomer in a big family, but you really don't get it. Your job is to smile politely and laugh at appropriate moments. Your job is to not hijack the conversation or turn it into a "youfest." Please stop usurping family events.

Things I Just Don't Get

Okay, enough doom and gloom on the top of my page. Let's talk about things I don't understand.

1) I use the same stall in the bathroom at work several times a day. I choose this stall because it's right next to a window, so it's often the first time I see the weather/sun/sky for several hours. The door of the stall also has an awesome graffiti dog drawn on it. The dog takes up the entire door. If it were a real dog, it would be an Irish Wolfhound. Frankly, the graffiti at our school is awesome. So I like this stall. But the thing is that the toilet paper holder thingmajig comes off the wall every time I use it. And each time, I am taken by surprise, jump up, say a certain word that I would make my students do ten push ups if I heard them say in a school bathroom, and get pissed at myself for not remembering that this would happen. What's my deal?

2) People who say they don't like dogs/cats/other people's pets. What? You don't like ALL cats? You've never met my (borrowed) cat. If you met her, you'd like cats. (I personally hate don't really like rabbits, but when someone tells me that they have a pet rabbit, I ask the usual pet-related questions and don't pass judgment. Maybe someday I will meet a rabbit I don't think would be better suited for my risotto instead of pethood. Okay, fine. I do pass judgment. But I am mad at myself for it.)

3) Why the women's Cuddle Duds long underwear pants (the Target brand) have a crotch down to my knees. I mean, seriously. I'm not packing a penis down there, why is there so much extra fabric in them? (Yep. I pulled out the long underwear. It got cold here this week. Brrrr.)

4) The layout of our local Barnes and Noble. I go there weekly. I am not terribly bright, but I'm hardly the dumbest person out there, so how come I can't find the section with the books I want? Ever. Every week I'm trudging to the customer service desk to ask. I'm almost a little embarrassed at this point. Maybe I should switch to a new bookstore? Or just start going to the bookstore without a list, wander about aimlessly and pick books off the shelf?

5) People who don't like parades. I don't get it. Maybe it's my marching band geekiness coming through, but I love parades. I love the music and cheesy floats and the kids sitting on shoulders. I love firetrucks, I love awesome cool cars that idle faster than the parade moves that need to have their brakes on the entire time. I love the candy being thrown. I love the community involved in a large-group activity that doesn't involve chanting or commercing. I love the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. I love stumbling on parades during festivals in small towns during the summer. I love the depravity of a good St. Patrick's Day parade. I love the Holidazzle Parade held in downtown Minneapolis every weekend night in December. People who don't like parades? They are usually not my friends.

Unlit

My life is full of women who can emote on cue. My sister thinks of a sad thought and breaks out into tears. My sister-in-law cries at Hallmark commercials. I work with a woman whose sobbing interludes frequent staff meetings (uncomfortable, that).

But I'm not a emoter like that. I get quiet. I pout. I rage inwardly. Occasionally I will raise my voice, but crying is reserved for times of extreme duress. Extreme duress. (And watching Steel Magnolias, Beaches, and The Notebook. But those hardly count.) My husband has probably seen me cry as many times as he has fingers on one hand.

Yesterday was my first normal day back at work, back on my normal schedule, back to my life. I woke up, goofed around with the cat for a bit, went into work, did that, came home, went into my other job, came home, ate dinner, pretended to work out, watched two episodes of season two of Battlestar Galactica with my husband, curled up on the couch. We cleaned up the kitchen, goofed off with the cat (a large part of our daily routine, I guess), brushed our teeth, and then went to bed. Imagine my surprise when, as soon as I crawled into the sheets, the tears came heavy and hard.

The darkness is back. I look for joy in the little things, but it's a stretch. The mechanics of doing everyday activities are exhausting. Today I didn't even pretend to work out, I just sat down and stared at my computer for an hour instead. My cell phone rang several times and I just looked at it across the room, unwilling to deal with faux cheerfulness, a mask I would feel the need to don. Finishing this post seems like an obstacle I can hardly face. How to get through the rest of the night, get the dishes done, brush my teeth, and get to bed at a time that isn't ridiculously early is an unbearable thought.

It's a combination of everything. A stressful holiday. A super awful death in the family. Three days of no sunshine and grey skies. A constant niggling in the back of my head that I am forgetting something. It is not unbeatable. I will get up tomorrow, I will go to work, I will come home, I will work out (not just pretend), I will return those phone calls, and I will smile. The darkness will not envelop me.

But just for tonight, I'm going to let that darkness come. Because I'm too tired to fight it.

Lessons Learned

I wasn't an easy child. I was scared, I was shy, and I wanted to please everyone, but I had no idea how to begin to please.

Uncle Lenny and Aunt Debbie took me in during the summers and treated me like their very own, with patience and love and so much overwhelming kindness. It was they who took me camping for the very first time, swimming in the ocean for the very first time, and "spotting" for deer for the very first time. It was Uncle Lenny who put a video camera in my hands and laughed uproariously when I filmed 45 minutes of a crab shuffling on the beach and about 30 seconds of our actual family. It was with Uncle Lenny and Aunt Debbie that all the bad things that could happen did - running out of gas on a dark, twisty, mountain road; losing keys in a river while tubing; coasting a car to a stop in the pouring rain in a car wash to find that the air filter of their six year old Dodge Caravan had never been changed; and so many other stories of silliness and forgetfulness that it would make your head spin.

He always laughed, my Uncle Leonard. A memorable, booming laugh, easy to come and easy to go. When the car ran out of gas, he laughed. He laughed, grabbed my hand, and said, "well, I guess I get to go for a walk with the cutest girl in the state right now." Five minutes later, when the car pulled up to take us to the nearest gas station, it wasn't luck. It was because Uncle Lenny knew everyone in the whole damn city and it was, of course, someone he had done business with before.

I would never have tried to use that video camera. But Uncle Lenny insisted. When I demurred, claiming to not know how to do it, he told me that we all have to start with everything somehow. New experiences scared me, but I was reassured right then. We are all tyros when we first start. No one expects perfection the first time out. Uncle Lenny expected me only to do my best and even if that wasn't perfect, it would be just fine with him. And what would we do without that 45 minutes of film of the crab?

They didn't have children of their own. But they had us - their nieces and nephews who adored and loved and cherished them.

Uncle Lenny died two days before Thanksgiving. I've spent the last seven days going from one family function to another, not knowing if I should laugh or cry. On Sunday night, I sat next to Aunt Debbie on a couch, the same couch I spent many a night sleeping on, just one of the many nieces and nephews swarming around the house, desperate to let Aunt Debbie know that we are her children, we aren't going anywhere, and we will be there for her.

I think now of the lessons he taught me, never with a lecture, but only by example. Money is important, but how you spend it is more important. Do you want fancy garbage bags or a trip during the summer? When life hands you lemons, screw the lemonade. What can you do with the lemons themselves? Perfection is overrated. Do your best, do a job you're proud of, and go on a big vacation once a year, twice if you can make it work. Don't be so quick to judge people. They might just surprise you with their kindness and generosity. Laugh often. Laugh so hard it makes it your stomach hurt. Don't ever forget to tell the ones you love that you love them.

I love you, Uncle Lenny.