Girls' Night Out in Ansteorra

It takes at least four hours to go buy some dowel rods and washers in Ansteorra. Really.

I guess I should explain. "Ansteorra" is the name of the SCA Kingdom (fictitious of course) that includes Texas and Oklahoma. Within our Kingdom we are organized into Baronies, Shires and Cantons. The Barony of Stargate is Houston (get it? Astronauts, etc.) The Barony of Namron is Norman, Oklahoma (which spelled backwards is Namron). My favorite name is the Shire of Dragonsfire Tor (near Stephenville/Glen Rose and a nuclear power plant). Here in Dallas we are the Barony of the Steppes (I guess because it's flat) and Fort Worth is the Barony of Elfsea (I don't know why they get this cool name. Maybe someone will write and explain it to me). It's a lot easier to find themed gift items for prize baskets and largess if your name is "Elfsea" (the symbol is the shell) vs. The Steppes (our symbol is the oak tree and our motto is something along the lines of from little acorns mighty oaks grow). In fact, the Barony of the Steppes awards an acorn as a service award and if you have done lots and lots of cool stuff for the Barony, they may make you a member of the Order of the Oak.

I don't know about you but I'm lucky to get a few shoots to grow when I plant an acorn. I haven't gotten a real oak tree out of one yet. About the only use I have had for acorns in recent years is to mount them on felt, draw faces on them and call them Girl Scout Swaps. As in, "Happy Fall to All!" SWAPS are Small Whatchamacallits Affectionately Pinned, and the girls make them and trade them in Scouts these days. The boys make them too but they are usually gross and have to do with bugs and green slime.

If you pick the acorns up off the ground when they are too green, they shrink up when they dry and the "hat" comes off so that all that is left is the little face glued to a scrap of felt. And there's nothing sadder than a bald acorn swap that has lost its's hat!! Happy Fall indeed.


So, back to the four hour trip to the hardware store. This all started when I asked one of the SCA ladies to teach a small spinning class to children and possibly adults at the January Populace in the Park meeting that was last Sunday. She decided to teach spinning, and Duncan (excuse me, that's my husband Robert's SCA name) agreed to make ths spindles. He's a woodworker when he's not an Oracle DBA. We started this process on Tuesday becuase I just had a feeling that making a spindle would have a lot of steps and need to be accomplished over several days, and I was right. Besides, my husband is extremely meticulous and I knew he would want them to be the best spindles you ever saw, so best not to start on Saturday and have to pull an all nighter. There's already enough of that around here as it is.

"The Girls" (who are not really girls, but mature ladies) called Tuesday afternoon that they were on their way and were kidnapping me to go to the hardware store, and they showed up around 4 pm. Now let me explain the SAHM (Stay at Home Mom) typical and ideal schedule: Up at 6 am or earlier. Do stuff around house like starting laundry, unloading dishwasher, making coffee. Husband gets up at 6:30 and has coffee and showers. SAHM makes breakfast for kids (some would do it for the husband too but I usually let him get his own--he's a big boy after all). Get kids up, yell at kids about something. Usually the state of their room or their morning pokiness. Kids come downstairs. Yell at kids about something. Usually not being ready for school or having their stuff packed up. Get kids' lunches made, stuff ready for school, papers signed, etc. (if not done the night before). Feed kids. Husband comes in to take kids to school (driving kids to school with 1000 other parents because it's too cold for them to ride their bikes and there is no bus service). Kids need to be at school by 7:50. School is five minutes away. Due to traffic jam Husband and kids must leave on or about 7:30 or earlier to avoid the rush and a line of 1000 parents.

My morning continues. Yell at kids to get coats on. Husband yells at kids too. Husband takes kids to school (then husband goes to work unless husband works at home like mine. If husband is already in Seattle or something for the week, SAHM of course will be taking kids to work and picking husband up at the airport to save on parking).

SAHMs who are younger and cuter and hipper than I am then go to the Gym and to Starbucks. Then they go shopping or have lunch with girlfirends and gripe about kids/husband/the price of designer handbags while their cleaning lady is working on the house. Shopping may be shopping for clothes, designer accents for the perfect home, or the armpit of shopping: groceries. However, I no longer have a cleaning lady or a yard boy. That would be my husband, the old white yard guy. We are the only people on the block that have a non-hispanic yard guy except for the asian family across the street, but they like to garden and grow vegetables in the backyard. We also are one of the few families on the street without a pool so I don't have to meet with the pool guy (since a pool is a hole in your yard into which you throw money). I also don't have to meet with the decorators or the contractors because the truth of it is that I haven't changed the walls, painted, or updated the wallpaper anywhere since we moved in and our "income level changed," as they say. Oh, I had big plans once but now "decorating" consists of saying, "what can I put over that carpet stain so it won't be so obvious?"

So I usually (1) keep doing laundry; (2) decide to start cleaning out a drawer or something and then stop halfway through, distracted by something else and leaving the mess out for a week. I'm supposed to have breakfast, shower, and go run errands at this point should errands be required, eating lunch by myself on the run or trying to make do with a snack at the Starbucks at Target or Kroger or the Dunkin Donuts at WallyWorld. If I don't have much money I can't run many errands because errand running requires money (going to bank, post office, to mail packages, to pick up dry cleaning, to go and buy some arcane item for school like colored marshmallows, etc).

So what I usually do is go check my email and (1)blog; (2) play computer games like Webkinz and waste time; (3) email my friends and check my Facebook account; (4) read about celebrities on the Internet; (4) research obscure SCA topics on the Web and in Stephan's Florilegium; (5) email teachers/Destination Imagination team, doing school and kid business, checking kids' grades so I have something to yell about when they get home, (6) bid or add to my Ebay watch list; (7) put stuff in shopping bags at favorite stores that I know I'll never buy, (8) check book prices on line at Amazon and Barnes and Noble, etc. I wish I could tell you that I am writing the Great American Novel but I've just been planning to write it for the last ten years.

Other things I do: think about scrapbooking and walk past table but don't actually sit down and do it. Run laundry through dryer twice and then try to hang it up inside so it dries the rest of the way (not allowed to do this outside because of HOA rules, and dryer is not working so well these days). Some days I am putting something away or getting something out or moving something around or cleaning things, so I do the heavy stuff in the morning and then take a shower before the girls are scheduled to come home. Being a SAHM is actually a fairly physical job sometimes. Cleaned out the girls' closet upstairs last week. Working on consignment for February sale. Put away Christmas decorations a few weeks ago (well, except for what's still upstairs in the hall--I am missing a box lid and I don't know where it is).

Anyway, the day passes much too quickly. Where did all that time go? I never sat down once or watched any tv unless I was folding laundry. I eat lunch, and want to take a nap but don't usually. Then I pick up kids from school at 2:50 or persuade my husband to do it because I am still in pjs and need a shower. Get in shower. Kids come home.

Then my day REALLY begins. It is time to look at the kids' folders, get them to start on their homework, make sure I am doing something useful so they don't goof off, check email again for afternoon messages, get dressed if not dressed already, dry hair if not dry already, cook dinner starting around 5 to 5:30, feed family, clean up dinner (or persuade husband to cook, clean up or both). Collapse and watch tv with kids and husband if he is not paged or on a call and kids don't have any more homework. Fall asleep during tv show. Can't wake up all the way. Go up to bed to see kids or just blow it off and let husband get them in bed (especially if I have been up half the night on the Internet with eczema bothering me).

So when "the Girls" picked me up at 4, we were going to the hardware store and then possibly to get something to eat. I told my husband to go on and start dinner without me if I wasn't back by 5:30. I didn't know at that time that I was going to be gone over 4 hours during the busiest time of the day, and neither did he, so he got a little annoyed about it! "The Girls" are single and between jobs at present so they don't realize that this is the busiest time of my day either, and that the errands and such usually get done before 2:50, not after.

Of course, were I a younger and hipper and richer mom. I would be running my kids to activities and sports practices all afternoon and sometimes in the evening after dinner, but my kids are more limited than most in their activites. They have Girl Scouts, which is on the street, and they have Destination Imagination, which is in our house, and at present they have no sports or music lessons although this is always subject to change (youth boffer they do have but it is Sunday afternoons. Amelia is in Drama Club and Miranda is on the Jump Rope Team but these are free and meet Thursday afternoons after school, so they are just picked up late).

So I go to Lowe's with "the Girls." Not a traditional Mom stop! By this time it's about 5 since we spent some time talking with my husband about the spindle requirements. One of the ladies is donating some wooden disks from her father's old woodworking supplies so we need dowel rods and washers to make the spindle heavier, and some cup hooks (all in all about $15 worth of materials). Well, we take our time at Lowe's. We look at the bathroom fixtures. We get John or Bill or whoever (he's cute!) to to take us to Steve who helps us troubleshoot what type of cup hooks and dowel rods and washers we need. We have Steve help us pick out the best dowel rods that are straight (easier said than done, by the way. When I got home my husband told me the best thing to do is to try to roll them on the floor). Lowe's was as dead as a poisoned rat. By the way, I saw a large rodent--almost a ROUS or Rodent of Unusual Size--run into the sewer drain outside Lowe's as we were leaving. Ick.)

An exterminator once told me that if your neighborhood has squirrels you also have rats. Squirrels are just rats with tails, in other words. I don't think their Squirrelly Excellencies of the Steppes would be pleased with that (their personal symbol is the squirrel who of course gathers the acorns, get it?) Baron Duncan had a new tunic for Twelfth Night and I took Miranda up to the front to see the machine embroidery on the squirrels, not realizing that His Excellency's tunic would have such large--acorns--right on the lower front, strategically placed! I suppose I should have said, "Your Excellency! What nice big Acorns you have" but I just couldn't do it with a straight face in front of my 11 year old, and I didn't want to have to explain myself.

Folks, this is the time to go to Lowe's--on the way home from work or during dinner. We got the red carpet treatment. "The Girls" show a real spindle to people working at Lowe's and they think it's cool, or they pretend to at least. At the register I sort of try to persuade one of them to hurry up and pay for the merchandise and she says, "it's not like there's a line" and then she turns around and realizes that about three people have come in to do returns while we have been standing there showing off the spindle and yes, there is now a line of irate people who don't give two hoops about spindles.

Then one of them mentions that she needs to get some money and a few things from the store, so I take them to the Gucci WallyWorld across the street. Now, I have written about the Gucci WallyWorld before but we decided to take a partial tour. The girls are impressed by the WallyWorld. They've never seen one with a park out front (seriously, there's a large tree out front that has been preserved and it's a kind of park, with benches for eating lunch and everything). We pick out the personal items that one needs and we look at the sewing and crafts items, and some of the food items, and we browse electronics and look at movies, Skipe cards, and other interesting items. I want to browse camping but they dissuade me. The one gets money and gets in line to buy her things. I talk with the other after a trip to the restroom.

At this point they are hungry. I should have called my husband by now but I am having a lot of fun and not really thinking about it. After all, I told him to start dinner if I wasn't home by 5:30. Wasn't that essentially a tacit admission that I wasn't GOING to be home by 5:30??? In the Legal World we call that an Admission Against Interest.

I talk them into one of my favorite restaurants, the northern branch of a burger chain called Snuffers. The original branch is on Lower Greenville near SMU, and my law buddies used to go there to drink and eat cheddar fries. It had a wooden floor and was the kind of place that frat boys and sorority girls would go eat, but in those days I was in my 20s and not very far removed from those college and law school days (as were my law buddies). This Snuffer's is more sanitized, more corporate, more for young affluent families and their children, more of a sports bar with big screen tvs everywhere, for people who are shopping for overpriced designer clothing. They have the best hamburgers and cheddar fries in the world. Seriously, I went all the way to Stillwater OK to eat at Eskimo Joes (four hours each way)--well, I guess I was really there for Red Tape (King's Round Table)--and Eskimo Joe's couldn't touch Snuffers' curly fries. I was disappointed.

So we have a great meal at Snuffers. I have to be a little pushy with one of "the Girls" (I'm getting really sick of referring to these ladies as girls. "The girls" is usally how I refer to the real girls, my twin girls who are 11). One of the Ladies (see, that'a a little better) is diabetic and eats very few carbs so she mostly eats meat, protein and vegetables, making eating out a challenge. She really wants to go to Taco Bueno but I realize it is getting late and I don't even know where a Taco Bueno is, but not close to where we are. I finally tell her that if she will just try Snuffer's, she never has to go there again, and she can pick the place the next time (she is trying to get me to go to Appleby's and I hate Applieby's, plus I only have $20 and I'm buying dinner for the other Lady as well since she is ferrying us around using her gas). The diabetic lady gets a taco salad without the shell or tortilla strips and seems satisfied. The other lady and I split a huge burger and an order of curly fries and we are stuffed. A pretty decent meal for about $10 a person, including my beer. Well, I can't very well go to Snuffers without having a beer, now can I? So I hoist a beer in memory to those good old legal days with Dave and Tim hanging out at the SMU Snuffers and griping about the Jones Day partners.

(I can tell you that one time, Dave and Tim and I went to Snuffers for lunch and we just stayed there for the rest of the afternoon. After we drank way more than we should have we drove over to my townhouse about 4 pm and sat in the back yard and planned out the law practice that we were going to start together. It was going to be a litigation boutique practice and we were going to kick some legal butt and be millionaires by age 35. Tim went to Harvard Law and Dave went to SMU and had some local contacts, and I went to Virginia Law, so we had some serious brain power there in that back yard, even if we had been killing brain cells all afternoon. It was a lovely spring day and the yellow asian jasmine was in bloom on the fence. We finally started sobering up --probably the thought of those $20,000 per year malpractice premiums did it, and this was in 1988. We did keep the planning up for a few weeks and tried to put together a business plan, but of course we didn't really have the funding to go out on our own. Dave later did for a while but then went back to a lawfirm environment, in house, then back again to a law firm, and after all, that was the day he told me that he couldn't live on less than $90,000 a year (remember, this was 1988). Tim and I moved on to smaller firms, then I to in house practice at JCPenney. Tim's wife left him when he had an affair with a stripper and nearly married her--after she took him for a ride both literally and figuratively, he met a nice girl and remarried. Dave, who was already married, hence the need for the $90,000 a year, had twin boys and named them both after himself--one was David Henry which was his first and middle name and one was Alexander, which was his Catholic Baptism name. Dave probably made lots of money because he was a real go-getter, and I don't know whether he still has his first wife or has "upgraded" to a younger model, and now I am a SAHM who likes to tour WallyWorld in her spare time. Sigh.)

OK, back to reality now. The girls decided after WalleyWorld to go to Starbucks (now it's starting to be more like a mom outing!) So we got Starbucks, even though we just ate, and I finally called my husband. He's wondering where I am and so are the kids. He thought I would be gone about an hour or so and now it's almost 9 pm. I go back in and somehow it gets mentioned that Barnes and Noble is still open and just around the corner (actually it was across from Snuffers). One of the Ladies wants to go there but I persuade them to come out another day to try the local B & N, a lovely store where I can spend a lot of time. I really don't need to be out much later because even with the Starbucks caffeine I am about ready to turn into a pumpkin. I have been up since 4 am after all.

So we Wayward Wenches return to the homefront and the other girls (the 11 year olds) are in bed. The husband looks at the materials that it has taken us more than 4 hours to bring him and seems satisfied, so all is well. But next time I think I need to phone home a little earlier or provide a better time frame for him!!!

Pleasant Valley Mom (feeling like a Starbucks run about now, but unfortunately Pleasant Valley does not have an all night Starbucks)