Day 32

So, she's not going to testify.  I feel . . . I don't know . . . disappointed.  I wanted -- like the crazy lady back in week one -- to see what someone who could kill her own child sounded like.  I thought it would be helpful to watch her myself and see what I thought.  Now, I just have to rely on the unreliable testimony of Brother, Mom, Dad and Dad's mistress (who, frankly, I found to be the most believable of all).

No, it's no good, I tell you.

What am I going to do with myself now that The Trial is coming to an end?

Read a book?
Care for my children?
Paint my toe nails red, white and blue for the holiday?

Sigh.

I'm sure I'll think of something.

Go Outside!

Day 31:  Holy twists and turns, Batman! What a day. Is no one telling the truth?  Tomorrow is the day she gets on the stand . . . or not. Grrrrr!!!!  I have things to do, places to go tomorrow.  I'm counting on you to keep track of the action for me.

Well, I do believe summer may actually have arrived here in West Lake Woebegone.  The air conditioning ran all day.  The boys started fighting, and I sent them outside!  Okay, I'll admit the weather has been so iffy, I'd forgotten I could do that until my sister said she had sent her children outside.

As you may remember s'daughter Shelby is working at a state park this summer as she has for the past five or six summers.  Our out-of-state friends may not be aware that the Minnesota legislature and our governor have come to a budget stalemate, and the government will be shutting down on Friday if they cannot reach an agreement.  This means that Thursday night Shelby will have the unglamorous job of kicking the campers out and -- literally -- shutting the water and power off and locking the bathrooms.  Happy families on vacation, put that picnic back in the car!  You are no longer welcome here!  No, I don't envy her.

The honeymooners are home and, as far as we know, it is so far, so good.  I feel certain that no news is good news in this case.

A Poem for Tuesday

Friends and loved ones, something is a-blowin' in the wind.  No not figuratively.  Something is literally blowing in the wind and aggravating my sinuses. Boo. Hiss.  I had to take to my bed yesterday when there was only forensic evidence on The Trial.  It was dull.

I think we'd better have two poems today.  They're short.  One is for our blogger-friend Jeremy J who purchased milk in the wrong color container.  Well, he thought it was right, but it contained the wrong milk.  Well, it was the right milk, but . . . maybe you had to be there.  Let's just say, it never would have happened if he had a milkman.

The Milkman
Harriet Lovejoy


Trot, trot, trot upon the street.
Listen to the horses' iron-shod feet
Bringing milk  for me and you!
If there were no milkmen,
Oh! What would we do!
Farms are sometimes far from town and city, too.

Okay, I've become a fan of Harriet, but I sort of feel like she just gave up on that last line.

Here's one for our reader-friend Arizona Audrey who is wondering why she lives in Arizona in the summer.  Her cry had a tone I think you hear from me in January . . . and February . . . and March . . . and sometimes into April. Hang in there, AzAud, remember in just a few short months you will still be hanging out by the pool whilst I go back to the basement to dig out those old friends my wool sweaters . . . and socks . . . and boots . . . and hats . . .

Summer's Invitation
Leland B. Jacobs


Summer in a pleasant mood
At the school door smiling stood.
Smiling there she seemed to say,
"Come, it's time for rest and play;
Time for swimming and baseball;
Time to heed my cheery call
Off to hills and meadows free,
Off to woodland camp, or sea;
Time for hobbies specially planned
For vacation's wonderland;
Time for circus and parade;
Picnic time in park and glade."
In her pleasant restful way,
Summer beckons all today.

Day 27

Okay, so yesterday Casey Anthony's mom Cindy got on the stand and said she was the one who who looked up the word "chloroform" on the Internet.  She was worried, she testified, about the substances in hand sanitizer and also concerned about something the dog ate so she also looked up "chlorophyll."

So, all right.  She, as you know, is a home health care nurse but did not understand what chloroform is or that the dog would probably not die from chlorophyll.  Remind me not to need home health care in Florida. (Also please let me never have to answer for all the bizarre things I look up on the computer -- like parasites and child labor laws.)

Who besides me thinks she's lying?

It really is an interesting question.  What would you do to save your child from the death penalty?  Would you lie on the witness stand?  Would you think you had already lost your grandchild and what would be the use of losing your child as well?  Or would you find justice for your grandchild even if it meant your child would face the electric chair . . . or whatever it is they use in Florida?

I am going to do everything in my power as a parent to make sure I never find out.

Here's my next problem.  Casey was a major freaky liar.  Didn't anyone in her family notice this before now?  Why isn't anyone asking this question -- Did Casey always lie like this?  Or is this new?  Were you worried about her?  Did she taunt small animals?  I suppose some FBI person did somewhere along the line.  It probably isn't useful to anyone's case, but it is certainly something I would like to know.

We shall add it to our list of questions when we get to heaven:

Was JFK killed by a lone gunman?
Are Marilyn Monroe, Elvis and Princess Diana still alive?
Why do people who don't want children have them while people who really want them don't?
Was Casey Anthony a sociopath or just garden variety crazy?

Writer's Block Wednesday

Blah, blah, blah . . .

*Is it possible to have cabin fever in June?  It's 63 degrees today.  What the stink?  I am tempted to turn the heat on.  I have in June.  Oh yes, I have, but now I am angry and I feel like I am not going to give in to the weather.  But just whom -- of the two of us -- do I think is going to win this battle?  If I just throw my chin out the weather will relent and climb into the 70s?  It's this sort of weather pattern that gives Minnesota a bad name.

* Because of the unseasonable weather we are going to the movies today.  If there were any money in the vacation fund, I would pack up the boys and drive down to Florida.  No, seriously.  A Northern gal like me is not normally allowed to go into the southern states this time of year.  Too hot.  Too humid.  But I am cold and so pale I look like Night of the Living Dead Mommy.

* The dog has ripped up a night time Pull Up.  Yuck.  It's not just batting you know.  It's some sort of gel stuff -- now spread all over the carpet in the hall.  I've already vacuumed twice this month.  Good heavens.  There's going to be some sort of cleanliness record set here. HA!!

A Poem for Tuesday

It's raining again today.  Long ago a dear friend's not so dear (now) ex-wife said, "Why do live here?  It's not that great in the summer either?!" Normally, I would disagree. The hopeful compromise of living through Minnesota winter is that we have beautiful summers.  This summer . . . not so much.  Here's a little rain poem:

Rain Song
Dorothy W. Reilly


Flowers are blowing
   In the breeze.
Wind is bending
   All the trees.
Sun is hiding,
   This cool day.
Clouds are gathering
   On the way.
Rain is coming
   Soon and long.
Nature's singing
   A rain song.

Standing in the rice

I was 24 when I married Brent and became a stepmother.  I'd been living as a party bunny in the city with my friends. My life changed over night.

Jeremy was 8.  I didn't think I was going to make it -- not because he was a bad kid.  He wasn't.  It's just that I didn't really know any children and he was an 8-year-old boy.

Jeremy probably thought he wasn't going to make it with me either.

But he did.  And so did I.

We sort of grew up together, now that I think about it. I sorta, mostly, kinda got over myself.

And he grew up into the kind of adult who would make any parent proud, step or not.

He certainly makes this s'mother proud to call him her s'son.

Danger: Stand Back

DAY 19:  The prosecution rested this morning, and the defense will begin tomorrow.  To my way of thinking that defense team is going to have to move fast and talk fast.  They are going to argue that Casey was molested by her father and that is why she is a big, fat liar.  Now either she was and that is very sad, or she is a big, big, big fat liar and she's making that up too.  Sadder yet.  This whole thing is so sad, I am almost sorry I got involved. 

Monday was a really emotional day for me and I thought, "Great, I will just cry my little eyes today and then I will be done."  And so I was, but yesterday I was accident prone.  If I could pinch it, poke it, squash it, stab it, trip over it, I did.

For example, I was trying to get the ice cream maker bowl out of the deep freezer.  It was at the way bottom next to a forgotten frozen turkey and instead of taking everything out, I tried to pull and tug it free.  I was pinching my fingers.  I was breaking fingernails I've grown out for the wedding.  I still couldn't get it out.  Finally I gave a really big pull; the bowl popped out; and I smacked myself on the bridge of the nose with the large frozen bowl.

Ow.

By the end of the day I was covered in pink Hello Kitty band aids that Preschool D picked out at the store but won't use.

To be honest, I am a little nervous about what today has in store for me.

Otherwise, everything is going fine.

HA!

A Poem for Tuesday

DAY 18:  Okay, I wanted to give her a chance, but Saturday we saw a photo of stickers in her room that match the sticker found on Caylee's duct tape.  To me the sticker is one of the more condemning pieces of circumstantial evidence, but she kept the rest of the stickers?!  What was she going to do with them?  Mark dates with her boyfriend on the calendar?  No matter how you look at this, she is not well.

Poems Children Enjoy is low on wedding poetry, go figure.  Here's one of my favorite parts of Song of Solomon:

Song of Solomon 8: 6-7
⁶ Place me like a seal over your heart, 
   like a seal on your arm; 
for love is as strong as death, 
   its jealousy unyielding as the grave. 
It burns like blazing fire, 
   like a mighty flame. 
⁷ Many waters cannot quench love; 
   rivers cannot sweep it away. 
If one were to give 
   all the wealth of one’s house for love, 
   it would be utterly scorned.

Wedding Week!

DAY 17:  Thank goodness for my elaborate system of TV, live streaming video and XM radio.  Otherwise, I would be forced to stand in this line and we all know I would not be able to take the Florida humidity this time of year.

Lots of happy news here this week. First of all, my computer dried out and turned back on.  Way to go computer and thank you, thank you to all who did a virtual laying on of hands on my computer!  It seems no worse for wear.  In fact, it's hooking up to the home network faster.  Go figure.

Secondly -- and really more importantly -- it's Wedding Week! at our house.  My s'son Jeremy will be marrying Rachel (formerly know to you as Cute As A Button or CAAB) this weekend.  Lots of excitement around the homestead this week as friends and family come and go.  I probably should have made more of an effort to clean.

Oh, well.

We went to shower for Jerchel (you know, Jeremy + Rachel = Jerchel).  I made the unfortunate mistake of signing the card from "Dad and S'mother."  This is funny to you and me, but was a bit lost on some of the shower guests.  What, after all, is a s'mother? Combine this with the fact that the gift card was shaped like a little house attached with an actual key that opens nothing, and you can see I made a number of mistakes at that event.

Hopefully, I have learned a few lessons.  First and foremost -- and why I don't understand this by now I do NOT know -- there are lots of times when I find myself hi-lar-i-ous when no one else does. Timing is everything.  Preschooler D and my wedding project for the day is to go buy some plain paper with a straight forward card which I will sign "Dad and Lisa."  Why do I need to make it any harder than that?

Soggy

Friends and loved ones, Preschooler D has dropped an entire glass of water on my computer.  This was bad for the computer.  Very bad.  How bad, I do not yet know.  Worse than when Baby D took the scissors to the screen leaving it with long diagonal scratches.  I have unplugged it, mopped up the water and am laying hands on it (shout out to my evangelical friends).

Most of my pictures are backed up. The only big loss will be my Christmas list.

BUT as we know, live streaming video from CNN was an essential part of my nonstop trial coverage.  Especially so now that my cable has gone out.  (frown face)

Perhaps it is a sign.

No, no -- not as long as I have an XM signal.  It's all just as well since we are getting to the autopsy photos.

In the meantime, as my Grandpa Malmberg used to say, "Expect me when you see me."

Or read me, I guess, as the case may be.

Summer Trauma

DAY 13:  Yesterday the state presented its fifth witness who said the car smelled like dead body.  This witness was a cadaver dog.  Everybody and his dog say it smelled like dead body.  This makes me think of that phrase, "If it walks like a duck . . ." Yuck.

It was the second day of summer break at home yesterday and poor Colin is just dying.  Brent and I have declared that he may only have so many hours of screen time per day.  If I told you how many, you'd be aghast and say it was too much.  No doubt it is, but, of course, it's not enough for Colin.  There's been great unhappiness the past two days as we get used to the idea that we can't just sit like a vegetable all day.

In a show of support, I have been trying to severely cut back my computer time as well.  It's one of those parenting moments where you wonder who is really being punished.  One of those moments when -- as a stay at home mom -- I want to shout, "Fine!  Sit in your underwear all day eating Cheetos and watching Price is Right.What do I care?"

Then I get a vision of 30 year old Colin sitting on the couch eating Cheetos and watching TPIR.  That makes me stick to my guns.

A Poem for Tuesday

DAY 12: "If the odor smells like dead body, you must find her . . . guilty.  No. Try again.  If it's decomposing, she must . . . face the death penalty.  No, try again.  If it stinks, she gets life.  Huh.  I am having trouble finishing something like 'If it doesn't fit, you must acquit.'"

Okay, the high today is 90. The high tomorrow is 63.  What is with the weather in my state?!

Vacation
Eddie W. Wilson

Vacation's full of jolly things
Like butterflies with yellow wings
And flowers that nod with every breeze,
While squirrels bark from tall oak trees;
But I am sure you cannot guess
What gives me greatest happiness.
It's this:  I like the grass so sweet
That cools and tickles my bare fee.

I couldn't so I didn't

DAY 11: (Sound of treadmill whirring) Open the cans! Open the cans! (thump, thump, thump)The jury wants to smell the odor analysis. (pant, pant, pant) How else are they going to determine if the smell of garbage is different from the smell of decomposing body?!

I had trouble signing in last week, (I still am) so I wasn't able to tell you not to look for me because we were going out of town. It's probably better security-wise. Normally I tell you to go ahead and steal my non-HD TV, but as you know I have a very elaborate system set up right now to watch trial coverage.

We went to the Wisconsin Dells which is about a five hour drive from where we live. It was a promised reward trip for Colin for sticking out Awana for nine years and getting his Timothy award. He'd been looking forward to it all year.

As you may or may not know, The Dells are "America's Waterpark Capital." There's a water park in every hotel and around every corner. It was supposed to be nice one day and rainy the next, so we spent just a couple of hours at the indoor water park and then went to do our outdoor activities. We rode on the duck boats. We went minigolfing.  We had a great day.

It was a good thing we had such a fun day, too because around midnight Colin started throwing up. Aw!  I know.  It was so sad. 24 hours of stomach upset.  Brent and I took turns taking Daniel around the Dells while Colin watched every movie the hotel had. So very sad.  I have to say, though, that Colin took it really well, and he has been promised a make up day of some sort. 

Brent and I agreed, as well, that even though we felt really awful for Colin, it was relaxing to just sit around with him and do nothing. I'm not sure if that's a reflection of how good we are at being optimistic, or how stressed out we are that sitting in a hotel room with a sick kid seems restful.