All that glitters has to be, well diamonds right?

I have no milk for my coffee this morning, argh...

Wonderful Memorial Day weekend, just beautiful weather, spending time with family, it doesn't get any better than that, except of course, scratching off a $250 million scratch ticket, that would be a toss up.

We drove up to Herkimer New York by way of Canastota, New York to drop off a hitch hiking uncle and to visit grandma. 10 hours later, we arrive at the KOA to pitch our tent in the dark. First night was spent shivering in the tent with blankets over head. A quick trip to the local downtown Herkimer Walmart Saturday afternoon straightened us right out. Mom also joined us Saturday afternoon, driving over from Mass, bringing gifts of her, now famous outside of our innercircle of family and friends, "Boston" baked beans and chili. No matter who you meet or how long you know them, you mention that you are from Massachusetts and they automatically associate you with Boston. Which is no complaint of mine, love that town.

There were 2 highlights, besides the family time, one of which involved a lazy river and a black inner tube. We were dropped off a couple of miles ahead of our campsite, with the idea that we would float by and everyone could take our picture. There was 4 of us, me, hubby, 2 sophomores in high school. One of which would have a panic attack if we somehow managed to detach from one another. Well it started off nice, the water was a chilling um, 10 below freezing, but the sun was out. It wasn't white knuckle rapids but smooth sailing. All of a sudden we hear a crackle, look over and the top of a tree falls to the ground. Crazy. Continue on, oh look, a beaver house. Great. Aren't they vicious? Don't float to close. Panic boy starts freaking out. The 30 minute lazy river float turned into an hour, where the hell is the campsite, to a hour and a half, where is that freakin bridge we drove over to get here to the 2 hour sun setting panic point, someone get us out of here. Our rescue party came right at that 2 hour mark, I had stopped shivering at that point. Wait, isn't that when hypothermia sets in?

Second highlight was across the street from the campground- The Herkimer Diamond Mines. For a mere $7 you are supplied with the necessary equipment to harvest these jewels. So with our plastic bags and hammers, chisels could be purchased separately for $15-20, we set out for our diamonds. It wasn't a particularly warm day but after 10 minutes of the sun beating down while you kneel on sharp jagged rocks, pounding away at only the most "porous" rocks that the experts suggest into the granules from which they once came, the sweat does indeed start pouring. 5 minutes go by, oh fun, I could do this for hours, 15 minutes go by, damn, where are these freakin diamonds, 30 minutes go by, I have 4 or 5 good size chunks of earth with multiple shimmering indentations. I suggest to hubby that we can take these specimens home, purchase some chisels at Home Depot and extract them. Look over at mom, hammering away, wiping her forward. Sissie had already fallen and cut her leg. Diamond mining is no joke, no wonder they carry such a price tag.

A few more minutes go by and an angel appears out of the haze holding a diamond. "Here ya go." In the palm of her hand was a sparkling wonder, probably about a quarter of a karat. "So that's what we are looking for," I say. "You can have it," she quipped. "I'm Brendaya." She is a 4 year veteran of this very mine, her father was excavating in the adjacent mine, was named after her mother Brenda, they have 2 red/rusty colored horses, one named lady, she plays softball, her sister plays as well, they pitch both fast and slow, she has 3 scars on her forehead, one on her shin, a couple more on her knee, her sister has a good size one above her eye. She then explains to me the secret to finding the diamonds. Sift through the loose gravel and you'll find a ton. Though I didn't find the 2 karat flawless gem I was seeking, I was able to scoop up some nice specs. So it was time to go, at my dismay, and I started planning out another mining excursion around the next day's activities when I overhear a conversation about quartz. Dreams of sugar plums and gumdrops dashed instantly, comparable to the feeling a child experiences when they learn from their first grade comrades that there really isn't a Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy is merely dad putting quarters under your pillow while you sleep, when Dorothy wearily utters, "I don't think that we are in Kansas anymore Toto." The freakin Herkimer diamonds were quartz. Fraud I tell ya, Fraud.

Home is Where the Heart is

Towards the end of my pregnancy and during maternity leave, I have been reflecting upon the past chapters of my life and pondering of what my life novel will consist. Hence the decision to scribble such random thoughts down in the form of a blog. Oh they will be random and they will be many...

As I was cleaning up after a wonderful Veal Parmesan dinner, that I made, thank you very much, the past came back to me, almost like a haunting. As I sat at the table with my brother, sister, sister-in-law, niece, nephew, husband and daughter in my lap, I began to think about a conversation that we were having before dinner. My brother was remembering a dish that my mother used to make called sukiyaki. (Thank you spell check, I had attempted with a phonetically challenged modification of "suekeyahkey.") I pictured all of us at the table in Pittsfield, Mass.; mom, dad, brother and sister dumping soy sauce on our dinner. More than likely, it was probably a late dinner, after work, games and practices, we all sat at the table, dad asking each one of us how our day was and what was going on at school. Sukiyaki was a welcomed break from some meat and boiled potato ensemble. "Mom, can we have mashed potatoes tonight?" "Oh honey, you can mash them at your plate." "Ahh mom!"

Tonight, was a rare occurrence at our house, well apartment, as we are limited in space and seating capacity, but it was comforting, it was like I was at home, but only for a second. Since my sister has moved down here to my brother's house, we have been gathering together for Sunday dinner over there. Which of course is a blessing that we are all together down here, 3 siblings, one fresh out of college, working for a non-profit in DC, one married with 2 kids and building a second home on Lake Louisa, and of course me a newlywed with a 4 month baby girl. But this arrangement, sadly, will soon be coming to an end, for my sister is moving back up to Boston at the end of the summer and my husband and I are leaving in October/November, whenever we get our orders.

I left Massachusetts 4 years ago in January. How I wanted to leave that freezing hell. Getting up at 5 am, scraping the frozen windshield of my Monte Carlo, speeding to work with no heat, I told myself that it was going to be the last winter. However, one more went by and I packed up my new-to-me silver Jetta and got out of town, cruising on the Turnpike, down on 91, to the NJ Turnpike and then the Beltway. I decided that I would live here for about 2 years or so, apply to the FBI and become a profiler and travel all over the place. I did apply to the FBI, but opted not to retest, I did do some traveling... I moved twice with my brother and his family, I lived with them for 2 years, then I moved into a townhouse with 2 great girls and a strange Lehigh frat boy, and then 2 times after that with my soon to be husband. I am getting to my point right now... I haven't felt at home, like home in Massachusetts home, until tonight for a second, when everyone was gathered at our table, in our apartment.

I feel like I am always waiting for the next move. For example, currently, my socks and underwear are stored in bins. It is really a space issue, if we had more than a one bedroom, I would be able to spread out my possessions. For all intents and purposes, I have never really "unpacked" since I left for college. Then I packed my things in clothes baskets, now I pack my belongings in plastic bins. My sister just invested in some and joked, "Remember Erin's bins?" It's true though, I haven't unpacked. I've just bought more each time I move. And now that I have married a marine, we will be moving a guaranteed 4 more times until his retirement. So that means more bins, bins for him, bins for me, bins for the baby, bins for our other future babies!

So as we all huddled and sat around our small kitchen table eating from pasta filled plates and devouring an entire Carvel ice cream cake, celebrating my husband's birhtday, I decided not to worry about the future or the past, live for the moment and eat up another piece of that cake, because home is where the heart is and the ice cream was melting.

Are we there yet?

Here it is folks, my very first blog. Let me first give a shout out to my husband... Happy Birthday honey! I love you!!! And of course Carrie Underwood! We knew you would be the next American Idol! (Like she is going to be reading this...)

Okay, so the last time I wrote my thoughts down, my diary was stolen from my hiding spot and pages were photocopied. Yup, they were given back. So I figured, let's let the entire world read this one. I have a lot on my mind these days and I'm sure my husband is starting to tune me out and I need to vent...

Actually my reasoning for this blog was to chronicalize (is that a word) the chaotic life of a working mother which was already chaotic before the baby... So offer up suggestions or laugh and cry with me through this new endeavor called motherhood. I'm sure that's not all I'm going to talk about.

The past 4 months have been amazing, I can only imagine what's in store. Let the journey begin...