SIGNS

In honor of our Kelsey coming home for the weekend, I shall relay a story that will illustrate her superior intelligence. It occurred in St. Louis in 1987.

Our family was traveling to my grandparents home in southern Illinois. We were all crammed into a mini van including the all important car seat that also traveled on the place with us. Dad, Mom, Scott, Me and baby Kelsey. She was about 13 months old, not walking and the most alert kid I had ever been exposed too. Seriously. I know, most new parents think their kid is the sharpest tool in the shed, but in our case it was true.

We are speeding down a wide open freeway. Kelsey is gazing out the window and starts pointing and grunting. I didn't understand what she was doing. After about ten seconds, she would stop and be distracted by something else. A little later, she did the very same thing again. What does she want? All of us were puzzled. She, once again, did the same thing. A small light bulb went off in my head. I knew what she wanted. My child could read and she was reading billboards as we went down the Highway.

She knew exactly what she wanted. She saw the "Golden Arches" and "read" the sign.

Can you say Roderick? And by the way, I still think she's brilliant.

TRANSLATION

Scott and I are driving to pick up Hope at school and I tell him "you won't believe it, Hope asked if Drew could spend the night." Now this is shocking because we have a huge day tomorrow in Carlsbad at Grandpa and Nana's 65th wedding anniversary shindig. I can't believe she asked for a friend to sleep over and I am very dramatic about my displeasure.

Scott looks at me, seriously, looks at me and says "she is never allowed to have boys sleep over, ever!"

Wait. What? What are you talking about? You know Drew, Hope's gal pal from Edison. He is still not tracking with me and now is frustrated that I would even think it would be alright to entertain a young man for a sleepover.

Honey, SHE has slept over before. It just doesn't fit our schedule, your mom and dad's celebration and all that entails.

"Wow. I thought Drew was a boy". Uh huh, not on the same wave length.

DUST

Scott helps me around the house a lot and one of his many tasks is dusting the high to reach places in our home. We have two light fixtures that are probably ten feet up so this is his job by default.

Since it is time for spring cleaning he pulls out his necessary equipment. Ladder, vacuum, shoes, glasses. All there and all good to go. The lights are tricky because they are above our stairs. Scott does everything to arrange the ladder so he can climb up, balance and vacuum all at the same time.

This is what he rigged up.




My husband. Maybe he should enter that reality show about inventions.

WHEN I GET HOME

Normally, when I return from a trip, be it short or long, the house looks as if a dog was chasing a cat through it and no one cared. Really. It almost makes me wish I had never left . . . almost.

This time was different. Perhaps the girls are maturing and they pitched in to help dear old Dad. No, that's not it. I think that they were all just gone and leaving dear old Dad to fend for himself. Yeah. That sounds more like it.

Everything was pretty much as I had left it except for the dishes, laundry and bedrooms. The dogs looked as if they may have been walked and fed on some sort of schedule and no one was sick. So much so that I didn't feel the least bit bad about taking the gang out to dinner to celebrate my homecoming.

I caught up on Monday and the week returned to normal. As normal as our house can be. I guess it wasn't that normal because Scott was now in Palm Springs, and you know what that means. Money was flying out of the ATM.

But you know, we're Roderick's. It's what we do.

PATIO PICNIC

I love a good picnic. I really love it when I can pull a prank like no other on my own kids and their cousins. It is so great. My sister is always mortified. Love it!

We were all enjoying the fine Utah weather and decided to eat dinner out on Shelly's patio. She has a beautiful view of the mountains and we wanted to take advantage of the scenery. It was buffet style, so we filled our plates inside and then found a place at the table.

What was unknown was that Scott and I had rigged up a remote controlled sound system that mimicked one passing gas. I kid you not. They actually manufacture these things. Everyone sat down and waited for prayer time. My dad prayed and as the prayer ended Scott hit the remote. The sound was deafening. Everyone looked at me and I apologized profusely for my unexpected release. There were some giggles and some disgusted looks directed towards me.

I had to keep this together and not laugh. A few minutes passed and we played the scene again. Now kids were starting to loose their composure. They started punching each other and claiming how old I was and of course, busting their guts with loud guffaws.

Shelly was not amused. For heaven's sake, we were trying to enjoy a meal. So much the better. I have always loved torturing my sister.

Finally, we gave up our hoax and everyone had a good laugh and a story to share.

Now, we don't need a remote. It happens spontaneously.

BABIES

This evening I had an awesome opportunity that seldom happens to someone my age. My BFF, Sonia, is having a baby boy in about 1 week. We celebrated at Mimi's with balloons, gifts, dinner and cake. So much fun.

I am so excited for them all. I have known Sonia since the MOPS days and now she is going down the baby path again. Can I hear a big cheer? All of us chatted about things that we haven't touched in years. Brings back so many memories of having my babies. Memories like their cry, their smell, their tiny limbs, their little bottoms. So soft, so helpless and so precious. I know I don't get sappy very often but there is something about babies that makes my heart go pitter pat.

I am so happy for Esvaldo and Sonia and the girls. All the Roderick love and prayers are with your sweet family.

MASKS

I understand that we all wear masks of one kind or another. We frequently hide behind those masks. When we fear, when we want to impress, when we are stressed, when we want people to think we have everything together. We feel safe hiding behind our masks . . . unless you are in Palm Springs with a bunch of your BFF's.

We walked into our house. Several of us had been there before and knew what to expect. It was like stepping back into a great memory. We enjoyed the feeling and the eclectic decor of our PS home. We didn't feel the need to inform our BFF's, who had not been there before, about the funky surroundings. Uh oh.

The people who own the property have a slightly off color sense of style. They seem to have a fondness for masks. All kinds of masks. Voodoo, African, South American, Inca, Asian, they are all represented. The greatest concentration, however, is located in the bathrooms, which happens to be a little surprising if you are not prepared for it. Facing a mask while emptying a full bladder is not, as a general rule, comfortable.

It does make for the most hilarious conversations. You can imagine. One of the BFF's made a rash comment about not using the facilities for the whole weekend. That did not happen.

I actually like the masks. I'm thinking of starting my own collection.

FORTUNE COOKIES

Fortune cookies are a favorite of mine. I love to read them. I love to eat them. I would love to bake them if I could find an easy recipe. I love the anticipation at the end of a Chinese meal. Fortune cookies and the bill.

I saved all our fortunes from our Palm Springs P.F. Chang's experience. See if you can match the gal to the fortune. It will not be easy.

"No obstacles will stand in the way of your success this month."
"Treat yourself to a special time this coming weekend."
"You have a natural grace and great consideration of others."
"A wise man will soon enlighten you." I think this one was mine. Imagine that.
"You will be the guest of a gracious host."
"Look with favor upon a bold beginning coming this year."
"Remember three months from this date. Good things are in store for you."
"You will enjoy doing something different this coming weekend."
"Traveling to the east will bring you great rewards."

Match them up bff's.

OLD

I realize I am now 52 and physical changes happen ever day to these ancient bones of mine. I did not, however, expect the unusual event one evening on our recent weekend. It was truly surprising behavior on my part.

We were all getting ready for bed, you know PJ's, bathroom, teeth brushing, snacks, drinks, bed making in the living room. The normal sleepover activity. Mo has an inflatable mattress that she is setting up next to me on the floor while I am making my bed on the most comfortable sofa ever, no kidding. Mo is sitting on her bed chatting with me about our day and I don't know what happened . . . I lost complete control . . . it is happening more and more often.

I bent over the couch, aimed my bottom at Mo and ripped one off . . . loudly. I was mortified and Mo was laughing so hard there was no sound. Holly was across the room and heard the rumble as well and she is shocked and awed and laughing. What could I do?

I apologized for my flatulence and started laughing right along with them. Others started pouring out of bedrooms to see what the ruckus was. It could not be contained.

The word is now out. Not only is Scott known in his circle of friends as being the "shooter of bunnies" but now I too, have made a name for myself.

Oh well, what can I say, we are Roderick's after all.

HANDYMAN

Here's the thing. When Scott goes out of town I truly miss him. Really. But I can get so many projects finished when he leaves. Seriously.

Addison's friend from way back is in college and plans to be a contractor, so I use him for all my little projects. He's great. Dependable. Smart. And most important to the Roderick's, reasonably priced.

Cheyne was at the house today and Shae and Hope started giving him projects after he completed mine. He'll be back tomorrow for a couple more jobs before Scott gets home.

We love you Cheyne and if anyone needs a handyman, give us a jingle and we'll hook you up.

COLLEGE

It happens every three years at our house. The selection of a college where, theoretically, that daughter will attend and eventually earn a degree. The process is long, arduous and typically full of emotion.

Shae's trek has begun and the road is none to smooth. The University of Oregon is her #1 as it is well known for its excellent school of journalism and she is stubborn. In her view she wants the best of nothing. She has tried to play the "no college" card. I am just going to enjoy a gap year and figure out who I am and what I want to do with my life.

Shae takes little responsibility concerning her circumstances as she expects her parents to foot the bill for most of the expenses or at the very least figure out how to fund her continuing education. She is not happy with us at this point, because apparently we make to much moola and do not qualify for many of the student aid programs. Thank you Mr. President. At the time of this writing, we are still searching. Keep watching the blog and facebook for continuous updates.

To her credit, she does have a lot on her plate. 2010 Prom is also fast approaching and Shae has declared she will not be going this year. It is way too "high school" and she is moving on to the college experience. Unless, of course, we rent a helicopter so that she and her date can arrive in high style at the annual event. She is considering taking a class at OCC this summer to get a "jump" on things and leave high school forever.

Then she has graduation and all the pre-grad activity that entails. A dress, invitations, pictures, a place for dinner, guests and the list goes on and on. Tears, tantrums and total melt downs are becoming the norm.

Lord help us. We still have Hope.

UH, RUNNING

Shae and I pull into the garage after dropping Hope off at the soccer field. I hit the remote to close the door, grab my cell, reminding Shae to grab her stuff as well. I get out of the car, ask Shae to turn out the garage light and head for the house. Shae looks at me strangely and asks if I am going to leave the car running. I say, "Shae, Addison just drove up." She says "No, Mom, I'm pretty sure your car is still running."

That's right. I left the car running, parked in the garage, and was going in the house not even thinking twice about it.

So, I think the girls may have me committed soon.

COLLECTIONS

We all collect something. Everyone does. Be it school papers our kids have made, tea cups, PEZ, silver, shoes, pins, books, etc. etc. Anything goes when it comes to our collections.

Holly, Chantelle and Kim now collect Starbucks cards. Phyllis collects vintage table cloths. Sue collects spoons. AnneMarie collects Willow Tree angels. Cherylynn collects robes (yea, it's an odd collection . . . she'll have to fill you in on the history behind it). Monique collects cheesy salt & pepper shakers for her modular home in Havasu. Me, PEZ and Starbucks cards.

Ebay is the place to shop for collections. I am convinced that you can find anything and everything on Ebay. I found Scott's Vespa on Ebay. It is truly a shoppers paradise.

It was fun knowing what all my bff's collect. All their personal collections suit them. It will make birthdays, Christmas and special days so much more interesting to shop for, right. Now we all know each other's weaknesses.

I must quit blogging now. I'm bidding on a new card.

OUR DOG KIM

We are all sitting in the living room of the big, desert house that we rented for the weekend. We had a marvelous dinner at P.F. Chang's, you know, the kind with lots of carbs. We are discussing various contemporary topics spiced with our own brand of humor. I have a visual on Kim and she is softly and quietly slipping off to dreamland. She abruptly startles awake, stands up and walks to the slider to gently close it. She is met with several cries of resistance and reluctantly opens it back up and walks over by me.

Now here's where the fun begins. I watch Kim turn in a circle looking at the floor. You've seen it done many times by the family dog. They survey the area where they plan to sleep by walking around and checking it out, a circular pattern. After having completed her inspection, she lays down and assumes the fetal position, sighs and drifts back off.

We all continue conversing until, once again, Kim gets up, takes a walk around the room and plops down in another area. I am telling the truth. She even put in her own opinion now and again lending some color to our repartee. I don't make this stuff up.

What happens in Palm Springs will never stay in Palm Springs.

EATING

I tell you what. You can not let 9 bffs loose on a town without some fall out. Seriously. No one is safe.

We stopped to have lunch before heading home. Nine is a large group and the wait for a big table was long so we opted for two tables back to back. People surrounding us do not realize we are all friends. So let the party begin.

Chantelle and AnneMarie are trying to decide what to share meals, shakes, fries, (they always want to share) whatever. Monique wants more ketchup (she always wants more ketchup). Kim is throwing spit wads table to table. Phyllis is shooting straw paper torpedos (she has horrible aim and over shoots into the next booth). Sue is standing on the booth hanging a clothed moon at people entering the restaurant (who would have thought). Holly is shrieking at the server that her burger is still mooing. Cherylynn is tripping people with her foot as they walk past. It is chaos.

People are scrambling from any table near us. Customers are pleading with the hostess to seat them anywhere that is not near us. Babies are screaming in terror. $50.00 bills are being tossed at servers with the instructions "just keep those women away at all costs".

Me, I sit in quiet humility and silently pray for the souls of my dear friends.

Disclaimer: The afore mentioned can neither be confirmed nor denied.

THE DRIVE

Cherylynn and I were the designated drivers this year for our little girl friends weekend in Palm Springs. WOW. That turned out to be an interesting road trip for me. So many drivers and only one steering mechanism.

I am well acquainted with driving in and out of traffic, loud voices inside the car, stuff on the road, freeways, side streets, dirt roads. All of it. Some of my friends are not, which brings me to the many opinions surrounding me in the Highlander for the 2 hour ride.

"Cindy, brake lights."
"She may have missed the turn, she's going 85 miles an hour."
"Cindy, make a U-turn."
"Can you turn down the A/C?"
"Cindy, I can't believe you like Aerosmith."
"What street are we looking for."
"BRAKE."
"I keep sliding around because she takes the turns so fast."
"Cindy, get in the carpool lane."
"Can we get around the traffic."

I'm going to chat with CH and see what went on in her automobile. Surely her passengers rode her like mine rode me. Right? I can't be that horrible of a driver. My kids have learned to sit back, plug in and no commentary until we get out of the car.

I don't think I'll drive next year.

BFF WEEKEND

April 23,24,25, 2010. This is it. One weekend I look forward to annually. This is it. The weekend that I have no responsibilities but to myself. This is it. A weekend that I can really "cut loose". This is it. Eating, shopping, laughing and spiritual renewal. THIS IS IT.

Every year, we pick a weekend in the spring. Just me and my BFF's. Sometimes I can't make it, sometimes they don't make it, but it is always planned and somebody always goes. This year we head over to Palm Springs. We rent a house with all the amenities and just relax. We sometimes cook, often go out, do lots of damage to our personal spending plans and we always laugh. Always.

There was the year that Monique punked Cherylynn with a vomit trick. Or how about the year that we all watched "What Lies Beneath", all except Phyllis because her face was buried in a pillow. Who can forget the year we set out to walk all the way around Lake Arrowhead. And the year(s) we have missed our exits because we were all so engrossed in conversations.

Lots of spiritual and life sharing moments, some tears, tons of belly laughing and on occasion, altering our relationships with each other.

I do not know how to I would survive without my BBF's because next to Scott and my spiritual convictions, they are my sanity in an uncertain world. That being said let the festivities begin.

Now, who's going to end up on my blog when I get home.

LOGIC

My nephew was probably about three when he first showed signs of logic. It is funny how different little boys are from little girls. This is and was very interesting to me. I got excited when the girls matched their outfits properly. I don't even remember them ever using logic.

RJ was using the bathroom and watching himself empty his bladder. He is having his own conversation, my dad standing there and listening in on it.

"Pee is yellow." Pause. "Mommy likes yellow." Pause. "Mommy likes pee."

I said he used logic. I didn't say he was a savant.

BLACK FRIDAY

One of the Roderick girls favorite holidays has got to be Black Friday. Everything about that day makes us all giddy with enthusiasm for the hunt. We have been known to get up before Starbucks opens. I can understand your surprise. It boggles the mind.

Thanksgiving 2009 was spent with our sweet Kelsey up in wild and wonderful Washington. Forks, Washington was behind us and we were ready to rise for a downtown Seattle Black Friday extravaganza, beginning with a bus ride to the Rack. I can not tell you how much damage we did there. Suffice it to say it was extreme.

Onward to our favorite Nordstrom, the flagship store, in Roderick-ese, the mothership. We stopped to refuel at the coffee bar just inside the door. We all looked for each other because there was a huge crowd picketing out in front of our hallowed establishment and we needed to get a Roderick head count.

Indeed, we were all there and were greatly disturbed. The unruly crowd was from PETA and had a problem with the fur that was being sold in our beloved store. They carried very disturbing signs and tried to guilt us into leaving our "happiest place on earth". We weren't budging. We would not be bullied. We had shoes to buy and clothes to charge. Still, we are not so hard hearted as to not feel sad for them and the animals they are seeking to protect. We did our shopping in under two hours.

We also did not purchase anything with fur.

THE RATS BENEATH

We lived in Medford, Oregon. We lived near a field. We had four little girls. We had a rat infestation. Not pretty.

I swear I could hear them in our duct work every night when I would put the girls to bed. It was very unnerving although Scott assured me that if they were indeed in the duct work they would certainly not be able to enter into the house by that route. I was not buying it. I wanted them gone yesterday.

Scott finally agreed to go under the house to try and figure out how they were getting into the duct work in the first place. No basements in Oregon. Just a three foot crawl space that was accessible through the master bedroom closet. I moved my shoes, held the trap door open and sent Scott down under. He was talking to me and I was trying to see around him without setting foot down in the dank beyond.

Scott handed me the flashlight to hold for him while he crawled around and explored a bit. "I can't see anything that would indicate any rats are getting into the house" he said. "I think you are hearing things" he said again, just to make sure I was listening. That comment gave me the opening I needed and I said to him while sitting on the floor in the closet "how about the dead rat that is laying right by your hand? Is that enough proof?"

Skeletal rat remains will always get a big boo-yah!

YOGA

I have never experienced yoga before . . . until three weeks ago. I am really enjoying it. Shae, Kim, Sam and I attend a class on the beach every Saturday morning. I have done pilates in the past. But this is different. Not so much strength building as the focus is on relaxation and stretching.

I am learning that in the stretch it is possible for bodily functions to, shall we say, relax and release. I have heard it said that in yoga there are intestinal gas release poses. It has been known to be a "noisy" form of physical activity.

Last week, Shae and I are sitting next to each other and there are several suspect noises occurring around us. Feet sticking to mats, leaves crunching, people grunting. That's how it is. I am learning to tune it out, but apparently, Shae is intensely listening with all pistons firing.

As soon as class is over, "Mom, did you pass gas?" No I did not. "Mom, are you sure?" Yes, I am sure. I would know when my body releases caustic fumes. "Mom, are you positive you didn't shoot a bunny?" Shae, I did not and do not plan to, fluff in yoga class.

Kim and Sam are now chiming in with their opinions about people and that "blue haze" that emanates from their behinds during yoga. I have decided it is not going to happen to me. I simply will not let it. I am not so old that I do not have control over that sort of emission.

I have just set myself up for destruction.

WINDOWS

I went shopping at IKEA the other day, which is always a dangerous activity, and ran across some new curtains for the front window that had to be purchased. I finally got around this morning to putting them up. This turned out to be a comedy of grand proportions and in some cultures, beyond belief.

Addison is standing on the carpet handing me the curtains on the rod and I am standing on the ladder pushing the spring loaded rod into place. No, not just on the ladder, but on the top step of the ladder, the one that says "do not stand here" in bold letters.

The curtains snapped into place without a hitch and I was starting my downward dissent. I made it as far as the third step from the bottom and lost my balance. As I was plummeting towards earth, Adds grabbed my leg with one arm and held the ladder with the other. I swear that kid has super hero strength. She had me dangling by one leg in mid air inches above certain bone breakage.

As I gently floated to floor I remembered one important factoid. I was still in my very conservative night shirt and robe. However, I was commando. And for several moments was completely splayed out in front of the window. Those poor neighbors walking their dogs, peeping through closed curtains, driving by. There was certain viewage of me and all my glory.

Addison and I laughed so hard, we now have accomplished our 8 minute abs workout for today.

SPRING

Oh my gosh, it hit me today. The spring nesting/cleaning urge. You know what I mean. It happens to all of us who have been pregnant and maybe those who have not. I can only speak from the pregnancy side. Just before my due dates on all the girls I went through this time where I couldn't get things clean or organized fast enough. I was a white glove fiend.

I became that fiend today only on a different level. Just being busy doing all kinds of odds and ends that need to be done. Let me share with you what I did today.

Got up at 7:00a and went to the job I adore at the church. Worked until 12:00 noon with all the cutest little goobers ever. Came home and fixed a quick lunch for the family and proceed to help Shae with her tea. Made tea sandwiches, set the tables and then took Hope to small group. Came back and took the dogs on a 1 hour walk with Scott, grabbing a cup of coffee while resting the little pooches for a minute. Came back home and checked on the meat loaf I had made for dinner. Ran to pick up Hope from small group. Proceeded to sweep the patio and rearranged patio furniture to prepare for the coming rain. In between all these activities I am doing loads of laundry and throwing dishes in the dishwasher and shaking rugs and placing them in strategic positions around the house. Gave puppies their regular weekly spa/bath treatment and then fed the family. Showered and tried to watch 2012 with Scott, but it stressed me out and I couldn't finish, so am now blogging.

These are the big things I accomplished today, lots of jots and tittles in between.

I am praying that I am not pregnant again. Just kidding. Not pregant . . . no uterus . . . just a burst of spring energy.

RAMPAGE

Sometimes at the Roderick house someone may lose control. They freak out. They are not thinking rationally. This happened this weekend.

Scott was the freakee. Scared the girls to death. He set down several edicts that they were not expecting from the father that they think is the best. One, they are responsible for the dogs, not their mother and father. They are responsible for their personal property. Not their mother and father. They are responsible for asking for permission to add to their personal social life. There mother and father give it or do not. Of course, all these new guidelines are "ridiculous in their young way of thinking. To bad, done deal, live with it. They were not amused.

Then I get a frantic text. Did you hide my ring again? You see Scott takes his wedding ring off to sleep and frequently forgets to put it back on in the morning. Goes off without it. I do not appreciate this lack of respect for me, so occasionally I hide it, just to remind him that he would miss that little gold reminder if he did lose it.

I did not hide it this time. It was missing and he was on the rampage trying to find his stinking ring. He did find it, but the rampage was burned in all our minds.

Scotts stress levels are usually manifested with pulling the sides of his hair, showing of the China face, if you are unfamiliar with this face, ask Phyllis, she knows it as well as I do, and the ever popular pacing back and forth and ranting and raving verbally. It really is a sight to see, but I refrain from hilarity because it makes him even more crazy.

Anyway, the rampage ended without incident and the evening was spent watching a movie together on our laptop because the girls had dibs on the big TV in the living room.

I wonder what he'd do if I hid his glasses?

PARTY

It is the time of year when the girls want to start throwing parties, supervised parties.

Shae has a tea party tomorrow with all the delicate finesse of high tea in London. Scones with jam and Devonshire cream, tea sandwiches of chicken salad, egg salad and a peanut butter and honey open faced no crust. Loose leaf Earl Grey and a multi-leaf bold with cream and sugar to tasted. Petit fours round out the afternoon. She has about 20 BFFS coming at 4:00p. The Roderick hen house will be all a flutter.

We will also be looking at some sort of graduation soiree in June for our 2010 girl, Shae. Both sets of grandparents and Kelsey will be down for that auspicious event.

Addison wants us to finish the fireplace and get a new flat screen before the World Cup. She wants to throw a party and watch the USA work it's razzle dazzle. We may finish it and have a 3:00am party since they are in South Africa the time slots are crazy. Could be fun. Breakfast at the Roderick's. We will see if the spending plan lends itself to World Cup pressure.

Hope always wants some kind of party. One will never know what goes on underneath all that blonde hair.

HAIR

Scott and I have a system. A saving system. It probably wouldn't work for everyone, but for us it is a creative way to save funds and enjoy each others company at the same time.

I cut Scott's hair. I have no specific training in this area. I went to Walmart, bought clippers and just started cutting. That is not to say that is has always looked fabulous. Not in the least. One time I was distracted and shaved off a sideburn. He wore a baseball cap for a week. But he trusted, really trusted, me to try again and I have not let him down. His hair usually looks pretty darn good if I do say so myself.

Scott does the highlights in my hair. I put on the old cap and he pulls the strands through while watching TV. He has never let me down. There are times when he gets a little rough on the scalp, but hey, there is always a little pain associated with great beauty. Am I right? I have my hair cut professionally, but the additions are performed by Scott.

The girls won't let us near their hair.

HAVASU

Love it. Did not want to leave. More relaxation than I have had in a long time. Great time to spend with special friends. Many funny antics that will never be repeated and never forgotten. So thrilled having all the girls with us that are still living at home and missed having my girl Kelsey along for the ride. She will make it sometime. Monique has promised me.

These are the kinds of memories I tuck away in the corners of my heart and I bring them out when I am feeling just a little down. These are the friends who I can count on no matter how I have behaved in the past. They get me and the family I have raised and am raising. These are the friends who are a Jesus journey with me. I know I can count on these friends no matter what the circumstance is. The are the friends who I adore.

The Roderick family has many memories etched on our hearts and look forward to creating so many more.

Love to you all - when are we going back?

THE PANTY TREE

Hmm . . . a panty tree. Interesting.

We are on the Lake, enjoying a wonderful, albeit windy, day. The waves are throwing the boat around with the greatest enthusiasm this side of Christmas. I am staring off into the desert when I suddenly spy a tree with objects dangling from it that are completely out of place. Jake, one of the kids with us, says "Oh yeah, that's a panty tree." Disturbing statement considering trees normally do not grow panties and the person telling me about it is a teenage boy. We strategically cruise by the tree.

Next day we are again out on the lake, minus said teenage boy, and I am sharing with the girls that I would like to drive by the panty tree and sling shot a pair of my own into the tree. Of course, the children are mortified. Monique, however, is all about getting me to the tree. We arrive to the utter disappointment of the panty tree turning into a junk tree. No panties to be seen. So sad.

Thanks, Jake, for your candid information on the plant life at the lake.

BUG STORM

Imagine driving on the 40 from Needles to Barstow. It is not hard. There is nothing there. No, I mean it. NO THING!

We are driving along listening to C.S. Lewis' book on tape "The Screwtape Letters" which by the way, is very good. We are engrossed, minding our own business, when we hit a bug storm. It sounds like rain slamming on our windshield. It only lasted for a second, but the remains told us it really occurred . That's right. Bug guts, everywhere. We couldn't get to Barstow quick enough. Scott was driving while looking through the guts.

Maybe they should rename the city Bugstow.

LUDLOW CAFE'

OK. I admit we should have known better. It's not like we don't have the experiences to learn from. There are like a million. Roderick's just enjoy adventure. Yeah, that's all I got.

We had just connected with the 40 in Barstow and were headed towards Needles. A tiny little town named Ludlow. Sounds quaint, historic and perhaps the only cafe for miles. It would be really fantastic to try it out. We were hungry and needed a short walk. So we pulled in.

Our first clue should have been all the truckers that were filling up both tanks, tummies and fuel. We followed and joined them in the fine dining establishment. We ordered and waited for our culinary journey to begin. The trucker sitting in the booth across from us was utterly engrossed in his roast beef, mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans, salad, roll and soda. He kept burping to keep us apprised of his satisfaction. That would have been minutely acceptable, but the passing of human gas was not. I was turning green.

Our food finally arrived and I tried to keep myself engrossed, heck, it was all I could do to bring my utensils to my mouth. Too many memories, it all tasted the same, it seemed like I had been here before. Horror of horrors. I had, only it was a different tiny town. Forks, Washington. Same tasteless morsels, same pie, same forks.

I ran to the bathroom and then out the door. We couldn't get out of Ludlow fast enough.

GOSSIP GIRL

Gossip Girl here with some outrageous moments on a recent trip to Lake Havasu. Of course, no evidence will be found on which to base these comments. Only time will tell if there is another invitation to the spring break mecca.

Several week day cruisers were seen using the Havasu beach as a place of perfection for relieving themselves. Also spotted, a rare white moon that remarkably resembled the celestial mass in the night sky.

When a joyful couple arrived, the rather spartan accommodations were shocking. Uh oh, they didn't sign up for the white trash special. Still, the darling duo was spotted enjoying themselves in the desert trailer with rock, cement and cacti lawn.

Napkins in a disposable aluminum loaf pan, pink pig salt & pepper shakers and a beautiful "Rachel" original hanging on the wall. Where else would you find this assortment of various items? That's right, that lovely Lake Havasu haze house. Hmm, how will our band of cougars, hotties and shotties ever top this experience? You would be so surprised.

My,my, someone from HB was spotted tossing back flavored beers while watching television in their PJ's. What is this world coming too? That's for me to know and you to try and guess.

Caught in the act, who was seen dining out with chocolate dribble on her shirt? I'll never tell but she was dropped off by an Ebbtide boat. No word on who the puffy man driving was but GG will keep a wary eye out.

Someone in the Havasu City area was seen extreme potato baking. Wow, are those people not aware that a moment on the lips is a lifetime on the hips. Be careful, summer is to close to take chances.

Oh, by the way, the "Rachel" original was a gorgeous paper plate turkey. Estimated value, priceless.

All for now, keep you ears unclogged, your eyes blurry free and your nose buggarless . . . xoxo Gossip Girl

EARTHQUAKE

An earthquake on Easter. What a unique way to celebrate Jesus' resurrection. We went to our friends, the Coulson's, for an Easter lunch. It was great. Scott and I are usually beat after Easter weekend and the last thing we want to do is go home and fix lunch. Shae baked cupcakes the day before and off we went right after church.

We all had just sat down to a wonderful meal and I started feeling dizzy and sick to my stomach. It hit us all the same way. We looked up and saw the lights swinging and the grandfather clock clanging and knew it was a quake. Several people jumped up to check the kids. One guy who works for Edison was on the phone checking in with the company. Another guy is a firefighter for Long Beach and he was in front of the TV and on the also phone. The kids are in the back yard listening to the neighbors pool sloshing.

I didn't even miss a beat. I kept on eating.

A TREEHOUSE EASTER

The "PEEP Kabobs" were a huge hit in the Treehouse tonight. Here's the recipe.

2 PEEPS of your choice and color
1 Easter circus peanut soft chew
3 spiced gumdrops

Place on bamboo skewer in order of preference. Once skewered, cut off bamboo tip and let the eating begin.
CAUTION: Habit forming and very sticky.

Some kids saved theirs to show Mom and Dad. Some kids didn't care for them. Some kids couldn't eat them fast enough. And most important, all kids heard the story of Jesus conquering the grave.

My apologies to parents, but it is a candy weekend! HAPPY EASTER!

STREET CLEANING

The morning began as any other morning would at the Roderick house. Hope and Shae had left for school. Addison was up and getting ready for her day. Scott and I had our steaming hot latte and were sitting down to enjoy a little "Good Morning America". Everything changed in a blink of an eye.

Shae walked in and said all they were doing in all her classes was watching movies. She had much better things to do than to watch movies so she came home to go shopping (I know, Roderick). Addison and she were upstairs chatting away as Scott heard that faint sound of dread. The street cleaners were approaching. It was Friday.

This sound used to send pangs of terror through our veins. Recently, not so much. We had learned after several expensive lessons, to park in the drive way. Always park in the drive way. Scott, being the Mrs. Cravitts that he is, stared out the window to see who on our street was going to be written up with a parking violation. Shae's steel grey Nissan was parked . . . on the street.

He screams into action. Yelling at Shae "KEYS!" as he slides lithely across the tile on an area rug, catching Shae's keys perfectly as she throws them from the second floor. While still catching keys and sliding, he opens the front door and hits the pavement running.

He is a streak across the front lawn and makes it to the car just as the sweeper turns on our street. He pulls the car into the driveway and waves at the ticket man. He has tasted victory this Good Friday. He is our hero.

Me, I just keep sipping my latte.