books are better than boys

I like bicycles, beer, and books.
Some other things I like.

contact me: dommelr (at) yahoo (dot) com

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excellent weekend, pt 1.*

Friday night:

Nails painted.**
Dinner and a movie (True Grit) with a good friend. 

Go to bed at a reasonable hour. Getting eight hours of sleep is so fun! And cool!

Saturday Morning: 

Get up early and go for a run. It’s snowing and that’s pretty. Most of the city is still sleeping.

Shower. Make coffee.

Make pancakes from “just add water” pancake mix. Add vanilla extract and oatmeal. It makes them fancy and extra-good.

Prepare one egg. The first time I’ve successfully made one over easy. Hurrah! I forgot to photograph it, I was so excited. This is what it looked like before.

Sit down to breakfast with a good book.

After breakfast, wash the dishes (because I’m a responsible adult). While cleaning up find out that the littlest, Dommel decided to show his precious face today at 10:41am. Can’t wait to meet you, Emry Jack Josiah!

And all of this before noon on Saturday. 

____________________________________________
*I am predicting that the second half the the weekend will be just as good.

**Someone asked where the nail polish is from. I got it from Charlotte Russe, but I’m not sure what the color is called, and I can’t find it on their website anymore.

Posted in life weekend rsd coffee yum running family books | 8 notes
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January, 1986.  I remember asking my mom why she cried all the time.  And why her face was so red. That little one; she’s twenty-five now.  Time flies, doesn’t it.

January, 1986.  I remember asking my mom why she cried all the time.  And why her face was so red.

That little one; she’s twenty-five now.  Time flies, doesn’t it.

Posted in gpoyw family rsd history of my heart siblings | 9 notes
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The Ethnic Sandwich Shop

(and other things about Nebraska)

I passed this place when I went running on Friday morning and had to come back to check it out - what ethnic sandwiches did they offer?  Bánh mì, falafel, jibaritos? 

No.

The ‘ethnic’ sandwiches they are referring to, I assume, are the Italian sausage, French dip, Polish sausage, and Irish corned beef. 

Additionally, french dressing is called Dorthy Lynch.

Other things of note:

  • Nobody walks.  Anywhere.  Ever.
  • You’re automatically cool and sophisticated if you come from a big city, like Chicago.  People will ask for advice, recommendations, and your phone number.
  • There is much love for the Cornhuskers.  I watched the game on Saturday and I thought my little bro might have a heart attack, he was so amped up.
  • Apparently many people mistake nearly thirty year old women for high school students. (Two different people mentioned, apropos of nothing, that they thought I was in high school.)
  • Not about Nebraska, but sometimes you can spend five days with your family and you’re surprised that it’s quite enjoyable (because it’s generally unbearable after just two hours).  And no one gets into any fights at all, and everyone is on their best behavior, and you realize that sometimes you actually like spending time with them.
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Hanging out in Nebraska with this squirt all weekend.  

Hanging out in Nebraska with this squirt all weekend.  

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Avoid providing material for the drama that is always stretched tight between parents and children; it uses up much of the children’s strength and wastes the love of the elders, which acts and warms even if it doesn’t comprehend. Don’t ask for advice from them and don’t expect any understanding; but believe in a love that is being stored up for you like an inheritance, and have faith that in this love there is strength and blessing so large that you can travel as far as you wish without having to step outside it.
—

Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

I rode the train (to the bus) to work this morning, juggling an over-sized tote bag and some rolly luggage because I am leaving straight from work to Nebraska to spend a few days with my family.  I snagged a seat on the blue line (during the morning rush!) and pulled out this book and read the above quote.

Life, sometimes less than subtly, will tell you exactly what you need to hear.

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Family photo -1982.

Family photo -1982.

Posted in gpoyw rsd family history of my heart | 5 notes
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People I don’t see nearly enough: part 6 My family never went to the beach or Disney World* for vacation. We always went camping. As a kid, I would have told you I hated it. All of my friends got to go ‘cool’ places, take an airplane ride, stay in hotels, etc and I all got was a two hour drive to the same campground every year. And I had to sleep on the ground, in a tent, with my siblings, and no tv (which is basically torture for a twelve-year-old). But the truth is; I loved it. Yes, I did sometimes wish that my parents would whisk us away to a beach front hotel, but the camping trips were fun. We got to build fires, and then cook over them. My sister, brother and I would go fishing with lines tied to sticks using leftovers from the previous night’s dinner. Hot dogs and corn always made good bait. And if I caught a fish I would pull in the line and make my older, and much braver sister, take the fish off of the hook and throw it back in the water. We would hike to “Devil’s Den”. I remember the first time my parents let us go without them and I was terrified that we would get lost, or one of us would sprain and ankle or get stuck between two of the huge rocks. (I’ve always been a worrier. You’ve heard about my nickname – mother safety – right?) We’d make friends with other kids (well mostly my sister did, I was terribly shy, and I would just tag along with her). There was always a hayride on Saturday, and the camp had a small store, and my mom would give us each a quarter every day to buy penny candy. But my favorite part, was before we went to bed each night my mom would read to the four of us from the “Chronicles of Narnia”. She would put down the quilt she was working on (and is still working on, she swears it will be my wedding present, if I ever decided to get married) and pull out the book and read. And we were silent and completely engrossed within seconds. I can still bring to mind the world of Narnia that I had in my head as a child. Those nights are some of the best memories I have from my childhood. And today I’m missing my family a bit.  When I see them, they generally drive me mad within an hour or two, but I love them.  So much. image via *I eventually did make it to Disney World at the age of fifteen, on a church youth group trip. But that’s a story for another day.

People I don’t see nearly enough: part 6

My family never went to the beach or Disney World* for vacation. We always went camping. As a kid, I would have told you I hated it. All of my friends got to go ‘cool’ places, take an airplane ride, stay in hotels, etc and I all got was a two hour drive to the same campground every year. And I had to sleep on the ground, in a tent, with my siblings, and no tv (which is basically torture for a twelve-year-old).

But the truth is; I loved it. Yes, I did sometimes wish that my parents would whisk us away to a beach front hotel, but the camping trips were fun. We got to build fires, and then cook over them. My sister, brother and I would go fishing with lines tied to sticks using leftovers from the previous night’s dinner. Hot dogs and corn always made good bait. And if I caught a fish I would pull in the line and make my older, and much braver sister, take the fish off of the hook and throw it back in the water. We would hike to “Devil’s Den”. I remember the first time my parents let us go without them and I was terrified that we would get lost, or one of us would sprain and ankle or get stuck between two of the huge rocks. (I’ve always been a worrier. You’ve heard about my nickname – mother safety – right?)

We’d make friends with other kids (well mostly my sister did, I was terribly shy, and I would just tag along with her). There was always a hayride on Saturday, and the camp had a small store, and my mom would give us each a quarter every day to buy penny candy.

But my favorite part, was before we went to bed each night my mom would read to the four of us from the “Chronicles of Narnia”. She would put down the quilt she was working on (and is still working on, she swears it will be my wedding present, if I ever decided to get married) and pull out the book and read. And we were silent and completely engrossed within seconds. I can still bring to mind the world of Narnia that I had in my head as a child. Those nights are some of the best memories I have from my childhood.

And today I’m missing my family a bit.  When I see them, they generally drive me mad within an hour or two, but I love them.  So much.

image via

*I eventually did make it to Disney World at the age of fifteen, on a church youth group trip. But that’s a story for another day.

Posted in camping family nostalgia people i don't see nearly enough history of my heart | 5 notes
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