come on now, won’t you come back home

Or, How To Throw A Funeral In 10 Easy Steps.

1. Find a dead Some One.  Try to find a dead Some One You Love, as this leads to having the funeral land in the laps of some other folks you love, as well as partially in your lap.  This may be painful.  This may, in fact, be really shitty.  Whatever.  There’s a lot of business around death.  Somebody’s got to deal.
2. Handle the red tape.  What, you thought there was just a pine box and some ashes to ashes shit?  Nope.  Ha ha on you!  From inter-state shipping to archaic, homophobic bullshit, you – or some one you love – will have to deal with regulations that turn no ear to love.  Remember: somebody’s got to deal.
3. Remember shit.  When you’re in the thick of it, remember shit.  Those stories about __________________?  And the ____________?  Fill in the blank.  Those motherfuckers are priceless.
4. Call in the troops.  You’ll want a nice bottle of George Dickle. Or some carry-out bagels and fresh coffee. And somebody’s got to go get them and bring them to you.  So pick up the phone.  May you count your friends as your family and your family as your friends and may they all come riding up when you put out the call. You’ll remind yourself that your Dearly Departed was good at this sort of thing.
5. Call in the troops again.  This one is the All Call. It’s death, y’all. People will come.  They’ll show up in dark suits.  They’ll bring food.  They’ll make the Bible palatable to atheists.  They’ll drive you and yours around and listen to history they have no interest in, while seeming interested.  They’ll call you for no reason.  They’ll laugh at inappropriate shit and you’ll be glad.  You call; they’ll come.
6. Bear Pall.  Really, do we have to say anything else?  Just do it.  Folks have carried your weight before and will again.  Return the favor and be proud you were asked along for the ride.
7. Food.  The living like to eat, and you know your Dearly Departed did, too.  So plan your After Party accordingly.  Did your Dearly Departed love oysters?  Have some. (Be sure to find some poor soul who knows how to shuck them.)  Or maybe the favored food of The Deceased was any sort of dessert?  Then make a cake.  Or three.  Don’t let the dog eat the cake.
8. Drinks.  Have them.  Toast en masse and in small groups.  Drinks win at funerals.  Circling with a wine bottle makes you look like good host and allows you to check in with lots of guests.  Yes, this is yet *another* lesson from your Beloved Deceased.
9. Good lord, do not forget the pictures.  The old ones you dig out of the box at the top of the closet and then ones that about a million people are taking right now.  You’ll be glad to have them. Or, at least you’ll be glad to have some of them.
10. Keep talking.  Those folks you love, the living and the dead, are around so long as you keep talking about them.  Heaven or no heaven, they’re still here.  Call your friends your family and your family your friends and keep them all close by.

 

i can’t get this image to show up, or why am i so stupid about this shit

Here, have a link instead:  what it’s like here these days.

My internet comes and goes at will.  Now, I’m all for freedom, but please, internet, at least stick to your curfew and be home after dark.

Other things:

• I heart colons.  The punctuation kind, although I am also grateful for the services provided by the one I carry with me all the time.
• The heat has broken, thank you baby Jesus.
• I had  dream while I took my nap this afternoon that the gf came back early from her (stupid) camping trip and snuck (sneaked?) up behind me and I knew it was her by how her hands felt in mine and the smell of her neck.  Then the dream got sort of weird, but when has anyone ever talked about a dream *not* being weird?
• On account of some staffing shake-ups at my school, I am sort of running tomorrow night’s parent meeting (yes, the one you’ll remember from last year where I did absolutly nothing.).  HA!  Hahahaha.  This ought to be good.
• Yes, school is starting.  I almost embrace it.  In large part because I have not one but two returning students and I’ll make them take care of everything.  CHO-girl and I will sit back and chillax.  They’ll be 3 soon!  They’ll be fine!
• Sometimes I wish I had the wearwithall to go fix all the inconsistancies in my blog.  Sometimes.
• I’m off to the Valley to have bolgogi with The Cutest Family of the Valley.
• Perseids  tomorrow.
• I also heart StarDate.

Lunch:  leftover boxed mac and cheese with sabzi my best roommate made last night, with an afternoon snack of coffee (!) and bread and butter with jam from my mama.

 

lunches

Just to keep up the momentum:

Tuesday – rather bland minestrone made by the teenage roommate – I dressed it up with chard and Bragg’s.

Wednesday – chips and chile (you say salsa, I say chile) and then some Korean brand ramen with egg when the gf came home for lunch.

Log your lunch, please.

 

how about a list

(just so we know this is not a blog only about my peeps)

In no particular order:

1. there are one and one half days of school left.  Thank fucking god.  I don’t blog about work, but this year has sucked.
2. the peeps spend most days outside, which is great, because they are messy as shit.  For real.  But I heart them.
3. no camp for me this summer (teaching, that is).  I have a fab new babysitting charge – let’s call her…..  ah, something.  I’ll come up with something.
4. ttc shit is totally overwhelming and hence paralyzing.  What to do next?  Can’t think about it, can’t decide, can’t deal.  Woo!
5. recent fab visit from my white grandma involving tea at my house – twice!  Woo for real!
6. general blah > general not blah.  This bites.
7. j says I’m not blogging enough.  Who am I to argue with her?
8. the kitten, who were once so tiny, are now 1 and very big.  I also heart them.  The boy one likes to lay around “guarding” the peeps when they are outside.
9. The New Girl is being…. well, herself.  We’ll see how all that goes, as I can’t really be much of anything but myself, and those mesh less than well recently (see #6 above).
10. house and yard are, as per usual, more work than I want to deal with.  Lame.  Dirty and untidy do nothing to make me feel good, and yet they are so hard to send packing.
11. I have a new doula client, which causes me to remember that I really, really like birth work.
12. LB is very good at keeping up with folks, for which I am grateful.
13. my csa started and the neighbors are going to roast a whole pig in my driveway.

What’s new with you?

 

now with video

Food crafting!  Woo and Hoo!

Here.

(aka look what I learned to do at the IVP “conference” this weekend)

 

woo and motherfucking hoo

Honest, y’all.  I didn’t think I’d see this in my lifetime.  I thought I’d have to wait until my children had children (and we all know how long that would be).  But no.  In the space of less than 2 generaltions – from my grandfather making noise about who could vote when he saw injustice at the polls,  to me, standing in line with all my neighbors this morning as the sun came up – we, people who matter and who care, steped up and made some change.  Virginia, land of my heart, did right and we’ll soon have a president of whom we can all be proud.

 

If I have to see another blissfully-ignorant, straight, fertile pregnant woman and then hear people gush about how “gorgeous” she looks, I will stab myself in the eye.  Both eyes, maybe.  Just so you know.

 

open letter to the IVP

Dear The IVP,

I heart you.  Every damn one of you.  I felt you gathering behind me as I drove to my wanding this afternoon.  All in the tiny back seat with your pockets full of those emoticons we love to hate – ready to pull out a smile or a wink or even that one with the whip at a moment’s notice.

There you were, clustered around the head of the exam table, craning your necks to see the screen when you first heard the RE say “hmm…. good!” under his breath.

I could nearly see you turning cartwheels in the parking lot as I walked to the car afterwards – you’ll not hold back on hope and joy just because something *might* go south.  I trust you to hold all my enthusiasm safe for me for just another couple weeks.

Thanks, y’all.

love, starrhillgirl

 

oh, happy day

Once upon a time, a long time ago (well, really not that long), LB was born.  It is her birthday today.  At last year’s birthday, I had a bunch to say – it’s all still true.  She’s the best there is.  Hold your friends close, as the kids say.

Let’s sing!

Happy Birthday to you!

Happy Birthday to you!

Happy Birthday, dear LB,

Happy Birthday to you!

Go give her some birthday love.  Just a couple x’s and o’s in her comments. Come on, you know you want to.  She loves you, too.

 

sort of an award, more of a meme

Crap.  The fine, fine ladies over at Reproducing Genius nominated me for an award (They like me!  They think I’m funny!  I’d have a beer with them, too!) and I am just now getting it together to follow up with  my own.

But see my award?

So god damn late, as per usual.  Welcome to Starrhill, where there is no time.  Maybe crap was the wrong way to start this post….

Anyway.  I’ve now waited so long to do this, many of the people I love have been nominated already.  Crap.  (Good lord, I said it again.  What’s with the potty mouth these days?)

Let’s do my local girls first, ‘kay?

• cho-girl, natch, although she hasn’t posted all summer long.  Ahem.
• Elsie, of Dianthus, because she can get more done in the pre-noon hours than anyone else in the whole world.
• the Crazytown kids, because honestly I don’t think anyone loves Virginia as much as LB and I.
• Wistar, who is a) funny and b) a famous blogger. Yes, I know her and yes, you can touch me.

And some internet folks:

• Bri at Unwellness,  because she was my blog cherry and because every time she comments here I get all squeal-y, like a kid in a candy shop.  Plus, fucking cute kid.
• the injector, who is honestly one of my heroes.  Honestly.  Be radical and kind like she is and we’ll all be winners.  Do it.  (And she has sunglasses just like me!  We are twins!)
• Qweird Utah.  Funny as shit.  And she knows Chicory IRL, so I want to touch her.  Not inappropriately.  I swear!

Oneofhismoms was right, this is totally a meme and I’ve fucked it up by nominating folks who are amazingly unlikely to nominate anyone else (which is what they are supposed to do).  But hey, I love them anyway.  And you will, too.  I swear.