What. The. Hell.

I have never cried so hard for so long in my life. I sobbed through the entire thing.

I realize I just don’t like animated movies. I don’t like most cartoons. Noted exceptions: X-Men (the original), Gargoyles and Spiderman. I have always felt nausea seeing Sesame Street. Anime kills my head, though I love the end of the first episode of Inuyasha. (The girls love that show and I’ve seen more of it than I’d ever planned.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QrDURPJ-OTQ

But I’ve only cried at one other cartoon movie. I walked in at the part in The Iron Giant when he’s flying through the air and says, “I’m Superman!” Insta-tears.

So Craig and his brother and his wife want to watch Up. I am not enthused. Animated. Ugh.

I missed the beginning and come in as he is kissing his wife and she’s adjusting his tie. I see his dark blond hair and glasses and squared jaw and declare, “He looks just like my brother!”

Then a few flashes of ties, their hair turns gray, they take one last walk up a hill, then she’s laying in bed with an IV and fluid pole and my brother in law laughs because their money jar is still half-full. As he explains to me, I know and feel so sick.

They never fulfilled one of their dreams and now they are old and she is dying. Sob. Tears. 10 seconds flat.

The old man wakes up in her side of the bed, the other half flat and undisturbed. He sits in his short, squarish chair which is inches away from her high-backed, winged Victorian. He spends all his time in a house surrounded by memories of her while construction crews want to take it away. He pulls out photo albums and through the movie he slowly loses all of it. The chairs. The house. The money jar. And while gaining their dream, it’s forever tarnished by the sad reality of a man they had idolized, who has become the villain.

Oh. My. God. Seriously? Saddest movie ever.

This was our tree. Everyone loves it when they see it because there are so many lights it glows from the inside out. The only problem is everyone hates putting it up, except me. I just can’t do it anymore. And by everyone, I mean my lovely dh and my daughters. The daughters think it’s funny I said when Christmas comes down, they turn into raving bitches.

I’m glad they find it funny because I was teasing when I said it. But you know how things that are true hurt worse? Am I a really horrible mother? I was raised with people who love, love, love setting up Christmas. But my family doesn’t. I didn’t teach them right, or something. They love sitting among the after-effects, watching movies among the glow of multi-colored lights. But the simple thought of putting the tree together, and it’s just the tree they assure me, is enough to send them into Bitchland on the one way train, The Bitch Express.

Wow. It’s sad. And it’s made me a litter sadder each year. So, this year, we are trying something new. Craig and I bought a living tree. We will plant it in the yard come this spring. It smells like pine, which I’ve been searching for just the right candle, incense, Bath & Body spray and sent everyone into allergy fits for.

Which is why this is the first year we’ve had a real tree. I’ve always heard of the mess and how they die and they can be so expensive and the allergies and blah, blah, blah. I grew up with fake trees so having one didn’t bother me.

But we are all excited about this newer, smaller, pine smelling, living tree. With the parallel bars in the living room, we needed smaller. And Craig and I are going to do our best with the lights to make it glow. And we’re working hard to learn how to grow things.

The best thing has to be the excitement they feel now at the thought of putting up Christmas. Me, I’m cautiously hopeful. I loved our tree. I hate change. But at least I have this picture. And the living room smells like real pine.

This has been quite the month so far. Graduation Day, Graduation/18th b-days and now Father’s Day.  While Craig was gone fishing and camping with his dad and brothers, our girls weeded the garden, mowed, weed-eated, straightened out the mess in the attic and got us that much closer to planting our peppermint plants and this new plant that is strange and round and has spiky petals.

A cleome. 

He saw it at his mom’s and really wanted one. So she got it.

To mine and all the other dads out there, Happy Father’s Day!

My daughter informs me emo guys are the hottest. Scary. Not because they aren’t hot (dramatic looking with the hair dye, makeup and piercings), but because emo apparently combines goth looks with depression and cutting. Cutting. Seriously. Do these kids even realize the kind of diseases they can give themselves? Maybe along with Aids classes they should give kids a talk about things closer to home. Depression and the self-damaging things it can cause, like cutting.

10642 / 110,000 (0.097%)

I love all those stories! The picnic, Bruce Springsteen concert, kissing all those troopers! LOL Had to be fun. Yesterday, Craig made waffles for breakfast and chicken fajitas for dinner. Yum. In between, we visited a few antiques stores that we’d always wanted to look around in. Several were more junk or just old junk with a few cool items. However, the one that was our favorite, was full of old furniture.

Bed sets with headboard and footboard and dressers. Vanities with large mirrors. Gentleman’s drawer sets with two low drawers, a long mirror and a hat box. But I fell in love with the steamer trunks and hope chests. I cracked him up because if it was a box, I had to open it. Same with drawers. lol

But they had the most gorgeous old fashioned writing tables that flipped closed at an angle and opened to reveal sectional pieces and small drawers. One of the tables had a glassed in bookcase for a back drop and when the lid started to open, to long pieces of wood would slide out to support the table part and slide back when the lid closed. Gorgeous.

Then there was this Chinese apothecary chest. About 3 feet tall and 3 feet wide and one foot thick, it had around a hundred small drawers. There were 2 slots per drawer and on the outside it each drawer was marked with Chinese symbols. If we’d had Craig’s cell phone, we definitely would have taken pics.

Then there were the books. We fell in love. Unfortunately, they were mixed in with obviously new ones, like some of Dr. Phil’s, but there was a 1915 printing of Return to Tarzan by Zane Grey. Two of those and one in really good shape. Little kids beginning reading primers. Cloth-bound hardbacks with no copyright date in them. Longfellow, the Song of Hiawatha and many more.

There was a 1939 yearbook from close to Spokane with letters and an invitation to the 50th reunion inside. The outside binding was made of metal and it would have been so wonderful If I was writing a historical set in that time period. And there was this pretty lavender, decorated book called Princess.

I love that store. And I found out how fascinated by older books Craig is. Trust me, his love of books is a big change and definite growth since high school. It was awesome knowing we could share it. Too bad my wheelchair wouldn’t get me into the old bookstore around the corner. Too many steps.

But I think we need to learn a lot about old books before we start collecting any. Like, what does it mean if it doesn’t have a copyright? What if there is a leathery paper binding? Lots to learn. lol

What is your favorite hobby?

Also, chosen by number of years married, the 3 winners of a free copy of Betrayed are:

Alexis Morgan - 34 years

Vicky Burkholder - 35 years

Katherine Allred - 41 years

All of you ladies are an absolute inspiration. So are you, Ann Roth. Over 20 is huge.

Ladies, please contact me at: JLH@JamieLeighHansen.com for your prizes.

Thank you all for celebrating our anniversary with us.