Me7of11

2010-07-30T07:05:00.001-07:00

I stopped at the grocery store on my way to work this morning. I needed a banana to eat with my oatmeal. The first thing I noticed was the smell of fresh bread. Who doesn't love the smell of fresh bread? It lifts your spirit and warms the soul...it just makes me feel yummy.

The second thing I noticed was the mold growing on the peaches. I was tempted to grab them and throw them away myself. Bad fruit makes me sad.

I look up and see a man in a green shirt. His hair is very long and matted. He has a full beard and is filthy. He reminds me of a stereotypical caveman.

I pick a banana, turn to leave, and find myself walking behind the caveman...his jeans have NO seat. I think this is very sad. He HAS to know that his ass is hanging out, yet it is obviously the least of his worries.

I pay 19 cents for my banana and leave the store. I drive to the far end of the parking lot and pull up to a gas pump. My little car is going to start coughing if I don't get some fuel in it. As I empty the trash from the little pocket on my door, I notice this man is at the pumps next to me. He's picking through the trash and seems to have found a container with some kind of food. He begins to pick at the food. I have one dollar and 81 cents cash on me and for a moment I consider how many bananas I could buy with $1.81. A well dressed woman walks across the parking lot and shoves money in this mans hand, then turns and walks away. He stands there and stares at it. What is he thinking? Is he calculating what he can buy with the money? Is he suddenly struck with the state of his affairs and wondering how he got to this point? Maybe he's high on drugs and the money is speaking to him.

I throw away my trash, swipe my credit card and begin pumping fuel into my car. As the fuel pumps, I walk up to this man and reach out my hand with the $1.81. He just stares at it. I reach up with my second hand and touch his shoulder, "Go get some food." I tell him. He looks up at me. "It's okay," I tell him, "go buy yourself some fruit." I wish I had more money to give him, but at the same time, I don't think it would matter. I think that if I gave this man $10,000, he would give it to someone else.

He takes my money and I walk back to my car. My tank is full. As I close up my gas tank I watch the man walk to the cashier booth. He takes the one penny (it's a shiny one) and places it into the drawer, then walks away.

I wonder, was the penny insignificant or was it an offering of some kind?

2010-06-01T09:23:00.000-07:00

Last night, I finally made good on that 2-year-old threat to move my alarm clock across the room. Then at 5:10 this morning, my husband was very conveniently returning from the bathroom at the exact time the alarm clock went off. "Hey, Babe. Be a saint and push that snooze button for me, would ya?" Unfortunately, when the alarm sounded again at 5:19, he was snug as a bug in bed with me. UGH!

But I did it. I dragged my happy ass out of bed and I stayed up! I have always said that the hardest part of my day is the part when I have to get out of bed. Once I'm up, I'm up. I brushed my teeth, pulled on a t-shirt and shorts, laced up my sneakers and was out on the trail by 5:32.

I love being outside at the crack of dawn. It's a fresh day, and the possibilities are endless. Everything feels crisp and clean and in Colorado, even August mornings are brisk. And the trail I walk is right across the street from me. The area is full of wildlife. I always see deer and today, I saw a big ole fat raccoon. Sometimes I see coyote, fox, rabbits, and there are hundreds of birds. I'm also amazed at how busy the trail is at 5:30 in the morning. It's quite obvious that I am not the only one who enjoys this time of day.

So anyway--I got in two miles. Now, let's see if I can keep it up. My goal is to average 7,500 steps a day. That may not sound like much, but if you consider that I sit on my butt for 9-hours a day, 7,500 steps is a LOT!

Long time no write

2010-05-26T14:49:00.000-07:00

Wow...It's been awhile since I blogged, huh? My first reaction is to claim that not much has happened, but we all know that's not true.

My husband lost his job in March 2009 and we have since decided to start our own business. It's named, "Mark Made It". Mark (my husband) builds bird houses, bird feeders, bird baths, and butterfly houses. We have a Web site (www.Markmadeit.com) and are at the Parker Farmers Market part-time this summer.

So this bird thing has really started to consume us. I have a crabapple tree outside of my kitchen window. Its a beautiful tree and we filled the tree with whimsical nick knacks and a variety of bird feeders. We've started sitting at the kitchen table longer and longer every night to watch the birds. Then, after a few weeks and a couple hundred arguments over what type of bird is feeding, we bought a couple bird books.

I can honestly say that since March, bird watching from my kitchen table has all but consumed the entire family. We have a pair of binoculars, two bird books, a camera and tripod on the table at ALL times. We almost wet out pants the first day we saw a grosbeak. Then a few days later, I swear I saw an oriole. Seriously--that window gets more attention than the television.

So, anyway. Go check out my Web site and order a feeder. Meanwhile, I'll think of something funny to write about.

...a snip it from my mind...

2009-01-14T08:37:00.000-08:00

My husband has his grandfather's kitchen table and buffet. He's has it in storage for years. He finally decided to get rid of it, so he packed it all up and hauled it to a furniture consignment shop. The owner of the shop cleaned the hell out of this furniture. It didn't even look the like the same stuff. It was amazing. So the furniture sat in the shop for 3 plus months and didn't sell, so we brought it home and stashed it in the garage until we could figure out what to do with it.

This furniture is really pretty. The buffet is in good shape, but the table is fragile. I mean, it's a hundred years old and it wasn't the sturdiest table to begin with. So anyway, we completely fell in love with the polished up pieces and shortly after getting the Christmas decorations down, we decided to re-arrange the front room so we could accommodate it. The plan was that we would get rid of the book case and move the couch to where the book case was. We'd set the table under the front window and keep a picture puzzle on it all the time. The buffet would replace the hutch.

I emptied the dang-blasted six-foot book case (that was packed to full capacity) and hutch (where I kept everything that I didn't know where to keep), hauled the "old" stuff to the garage, swept, moped and dusted, then we hauled the "new" stuff in. It didn't fit. Not even close. I mean, we measured everything before we moved it, and it fit, but it didn't "fit"...know what I mean? The wood was too dark, the table stuck out into the room too far, the balance was all wrong...it just didn't work. It looked like crap.

We hemmed and hawed and bickered, then hauled the "new" stuff BACK into the garage and the "old" stuff BACK inside. I busted my butt all afternoon, cleaning and moving and I have nothing to show for it. We did end up moving the couch and the chairs around a little bit, so it does look different, but it isn't what I expected. And those dust monsters that resided under the couch have been evicted. And my floors are moped. And my hutch and bookcase are clean. Aside from that...

But let me tell you something, people. I scored BIG brownie points. How many women would re-arrange her main room (which is 1/3 of my entire house) to accommodate her husband's grandfather's cheap, old furniture? Unfortunately, these days, my brownie points are worth about as much as a Zimbabwe dollar. (For those of you who may not know, earlier this week Zimbabwe released a new 50 BILLION dollar note--it's worth $1.25USD.)

Meanwhile, I have a substantial pile of "stuff" next to my bed that needs a home.

Where does all this "stuff" come from? And why do I have so much of it? I just don't know what to do with it! Do I keep it, do I throw it out? What if I throw it away, but then find out that I need it?

Side A: NO! No. I don't need it. "When in doubt, throw it out!" That's what I always say! Why do I need a 10-year-old map of Washington DC? If I go to Washington DC, I'll get a new map. Dang-blasted things are free for crying out loud.

Side B: But it's a souvenir from our two-week, cross country road trip. I could put it in a scrap book along with the 8 rolls of 36-exposure film that we got double prints of. And those pictures are stored in those boxes along with every other picture I ever took over the last 14 years.

Side A: Okay, then fine...keep the map. But what the hell are you going to DO with it?!?!

Side B: You're right. I'll throw it away.

Side A: NO! WAIT--you could decoupage the back of that bookcase with it!

Scared Stiff

2009-01-13T13:42:00.000-08:00

I work in a suite (office) with only one other woman. The suite (office) across the hall from us is also very small (4 people at maximum capacity, but throughout the day to share food, borrow coffee creamer, or just to chat--whatever. So, late Friday afternoon, my friend Sharon comes into the suite. I can't see the door to my suite from my office, but I know it's her because no one ever comes into our office except the girls across the hall. When I sit at my desk, there is a very large window into the suite on my left and a window to the outside on my right. So I don't get up from my seat, but I turn to look out my window into the suite. Sharon is standing RIGHT at the window wearing a stupid paper old-lady mask.

Now folks, let me tell you, I was all arms, legs, and lungs. You'd have thought someone plugged my ass in. She scared me so badly that I screamed so loud, that I scared her so badly, that she screamed. Then I started laughing. We laughed until we cried. When it was all over and our heart rates returned to normal, I congratulated her with a, "THAT WAS AWESOME!!!"

That incident is definitely rated in the top 5 of my all time greatest scares. My only regret is that we didn't catch it on video.

Happy New Year!

2009-01-05T12:50:00.000-08:00

Psst...is it over yet? Whew--that was a close one! There for a while, I wasn't sure I was going to make it out live. On one hand, it seems like October was just yesterday. On the other hand, it feels like two years has past (at warp speed) since October.I'm just glad it's over. Don't get me wrong--it was fun. Crazy, but fun.

And now it's January 2009. I'm ready for 2009. I only have one new year's resolution: "Be happy."

That's the short answer. The long version includes:
I am going to be a better wife and mother.
I'm going to get in shape (I only gained 3 pounds over the holidays!) and I'm taking my daughter with me (she needs to get in shape, too). And we're going to have fun doing it.
I'm going to give more (time and talent as well as money) to charity.
I'm going to go to church regularly.

And I'm going to learn Fair Isle.

I have a pair of socks I need to finish (the ones I started in October). I stepped on the bag and broke the needles. I ordered more needles and got word that they shipped today. Aside from that, the only project I have going right now is a dress-up shawl for my daughter and a victory scarf for my sister (she deployed today with Air Force).

So...wish me luck and I'll keep you posted.

OMG--speaking of keeping you posted...I need to update you on the child whose mother was in jail. Mom got out of jail. I met her just after Thanksgiving. She gave me a HUGE hug, looked me in the eye and said, "I can't thank you enough for taking care of my baby while I was gone. She talked about you every time she came to visit and I just can't tell you how much you meant to her." I told her it was no problem, that her daughter, "...is a delightful child and we enjoy having her." This child has been to our house several times over the last month and I've chatted with her mother on as many occasions. I still have not gotten up the courage to ask about her rap sheet. Until I do, that child will have to play at my house.

Holiday Fun

2008-12-15T13:09:00.001-08:00

OMG--has it really been 7 weeks since I posted? Wow...

I think you knew I went to Phoenix for business. I left late Sunday afternoon. Monday morning my dad called. My aunt (who lives in Denver) is dying and my mom and dad are coming to Denver. Can they stay with me. "Sure!" I tell him, "Except that I'm in Phoenix." I owe my husband BIG time for that one. Not only did he host my folks while I was gone, but he had to give them our bed because our spare bed furniture was in the garage. I got back to Denver Friday night and my folks were around through the weekend. It is always so good to have them. I just love it.

November just flew by. I don't know what happened to November. I do know that Thanksgiving Day was a pajama day at my house. We watched movies and napped and ate turkey all day. It was GREAT! So great, in fact, that we stayed in our pajamas practically all weekend. And like icing on the cake, the weather was even crappy, so I didn't feel guilty about it!

So December is almost gone. My co-worker just hollered "Christmas is NEXT WEEK!" I choked on my tea. I always think I'm ready, but I'm never really ready.

Saturday was the carriage parade in Parker. It was an incredibly beautiful day with highs near 60, so I planned to take my daughter. I called V's mom and asked if V could come with us. Meanwhile D came over to play, then L. They both wanted to go, too! How do I get myself into these situations?

Oh well--we got an excellent, sunny spot to watch the parade with the wind at our backs...POI-FECT! Only I soon realized it was maybe too perfect...like not-even-on-the-parade-route-perfect.

So we moved to a spot in front of the speakers. While we waited for the parade to start, the girls entertained themselves (and all those around us) by dancing jigs...

The parade was full of horses of all shapes and sizes, but our favorite were the miniatures. This little fella's name is "Tiny". We love "Tiny" so much, in fact, that we got into a fight over who "called" Tiny first.

And then there was "Buster". Buster is anything but tiny! Can you see that Buster has antlers on his head?
Well, of course he wore antlers...he was pulling none other than the big guy himself! The girls were SO excited because, "Did you see that? Mrs. Clause WAVED to ME!" "I know, I know" another one screamed, "She waved to ME, TOO!"

I agreed to treat the girls to ice cream, so on our way to the ice cream parlor, we found a saddle and a step stool next to the horse statue. How could I say no?? Each girl got to climb aboard for her picture. This little one is mine.

And then we stopped to pet the reindeer.

By the time we got ice cream, I was totally over it all. The girls wined and complained the whole time, "How come I got my ice cream last?" "Why does M get to hold your hand?" "I wanted to sit on the top step!" "How come SHE got a bowl and a spoon?" Over and over and over they cried, "That's not fair!"

I always say "I'm never doing THAT again!" But I will. I always do.

Miscellaneous

2008-10-14T14:09:00.000-07:00

(Deep sigh) Is it Friday yet?

Saturday was cold and wet in Denver. So was Sunday. And Monday. Tuesday started out nice enough (cold, but sunny), but now it's yucky again. This weather just makes me want to curl up in a soft, dark, quiet place.

I've been testing out some lace patterns. I think I mentioned that I found a website that suggested I begin knitting lace washcloths. The first one was feather and fan and it turned out nicely. Well, except for the fact that three quarters of the way through, I knit one row twice and it reversed the pattern. It still looks nice and really--it's a washcloth.

Based on my success at the feather and fan, I opted to skip "level two" and dive into the snowflake pattern. I knit the 5th row six times before I got it right. I'm still only 10 rows into it, but I'm not sure I like it. I figure I need to repeat at least three times before I judge.

Meanwhile, I dropped by the library last night and picked up a book about lace, one about cables (hats and scarves), one about knitting two socks at a time, and a couple cookbooks.

I'm still dieting. It sucks, but it's working. I topped out at 184 at the end of August and have managed to whittle myself down to 172. It has not been easy--under any stretch of the imagination. I get up at 4:45AM so I can workout for 40 minutes before work. In case any of you were wondering...it is REALLY dark at 4:45AM...and cold. Cold and dark.

I've started eating more whole grains. More specifically, flax seed meal. I add it to my oatmeal and it's dee-lish! It says you can use it to replace eggs in recipes. I decided to try it out last weekend by replacing one of the three eggs in a muffin recipe. I soaked the flax meal as instructed, then cracked the other two eggs into the batter, then realized that the recipe only called for two eggs. Oh well--we'll try again this weekend.

I also bought some wheat germ and wheat bulgur. You're supposed to be able to replace 25% of flour in a recipe with wheat germ. That's why I bought it, but I haven't tried it yet. My dad used to put wheat germ on damn-near everything he ate. It tastes great on cold cereal, yogurt, peanut butter sandwiches, blah, blah, blah. As for the bulgur--It's one of the main ingredients in the cabbage rolls I'm making for dinner tonight. Don't tell my husband.

FOs and WIPs

2008-10-08T10:26:00.001-07:00

Okay--the fact that I started these in April, I think, only makes this FO that much sweeter. I just finished these beauties on Monday. I'm not sure if they fit my daughter's feet anymore, but I wasn't ambitious enough to make them any larger than I did. Behold my first ever pair of socks! I also crocheted a hat and blanket for my stepson's mother, who is expecting a baby in November. I started this project in August and finished it the day of the baby shower (September 13).

And I crocheted this hat in August for the baby's Christmas gift--matching boots to follow.
This furry stuff on the hat was a joke. I couldn't see squat, so I just kinda made it up and put "stitches" where I thought they should be. To the non-crocheter/knitter, it looks fantastic. People who know...know it's jacked up. Fortunately, I'm a "good enough" kind of person and I think it's great.

I'm working on this scarf for my daughter. I think it's too wide, but am not bothered by it enough to rip it out. I think it will be just fine. I also expect to make her a hat to match.

Meanwhile, I'm working on the traveling scarves as they arrive. I have to say, these scarves are starting to look pretty crazy! It's getting more and more challenging to find colors to "match".

I expect to cast on a pair of socks for my mother, but am nervous about getting them finished in time for Christmas. At the speed I knit, I'll be lucky to get those socks finished by Christmas 2009. So I thought maybe I'd knit her a lacy shawl instead. Based on the reaction this statement has gotten from some experienced knitters, that ain't gonna happen either.

I'm slow and I'm really very green (meaning inexperienced). The only thing I have going for me is that I'm fearless...and I'm a "good enough" kind of person. I don't care if I screw up, it's not like anything will be ruined...Just take it out, right? What could go wrong? But my mom is a life-long knitter, so I want her gift to be perfect. I think I can do it. I've got 2 and a half months...I think I can do it.

Please Advise

2008-09-30T09:05:00.000-07:00

My daughter has become good friends with a child we’ll call A. A is delightful, well mannered little girl with a vivid imagination. She is well dressed, clean, and healthy little girl. On Sunday, we took this child on a hike with us. Her father sent her over with a hoodie (in case it got cold), a bottle of water, an apple, and a banana all carefully placed in a backpack. A also handed me a piece of paper with her father’s cell phone number, “in case of an emergency.”

Sounds responsible, yes? I certainly thought so. Which is why I was so surprised to hear my daughter’s answer to my question, “Are A’s mother and father home?” My daughter tells me that A “…doesn’t have a mother. Her mother is in jail.”

WTF?!? JAIL??? “What (in my head: in the *$@%*&$@ name of all that is good and holy) is her mother in jail for? My daughter tells me she doesn’t know, “She (A) doesn’t like to talk about it because it makes her sad.”

Wow. My daughter’s friend’s mother is in jail. That makes me uncomfortable.

Fast forward two days. I’m walking my daughter to school this morning and she says, “A is excited because her brother got out of jail yesterday.”

I screamed so loud, only the dogs could hear it: BROTHER????? Then in a normal tone I say to my child, “I didn’t know A had a brother.” My child tells me, “Yup…and he just got out of jail.” Then, before I could regain my senses, she continues, “You know what is weird?” I’m thinking I could write a book on weird right now, but decide to humor her. “What’s weird?” She tells me, “A’s mom is in jail and J’s (I haven’t met “J”, but apparently he is A’s next door neighbor.) dad is in jail.

O-M-G--WHAT KIND OF NEIGHBORHOOD AN I LIVING IN?!?!

Folks—I could go on about this for a really long time, but let’s cut to the chase…Do I have a right to know why A’s mom is in jail? Can I just walk down there and ask Dad, “Why is Mom in jail?” And what about Brother? I’m even more concerned about Brother because he’s OUT!” Is he living with them?

Help me. What do I say? What do I do?

Parenting 101

2008-09-23T13:21:00.000-07:00

My daughter has not been feeling well (she has a cold). When she isn't happy, she makes DAMN sure everyone around her is as unhappy as she is. I swear, it was about the longest weekend of my life. She gave me a hard time from the minute she woke up Saturday morning, to the minute she fell asleep Sunday night.

I finally got her into the bath tub at 7:30 Sunday night. This is good news for me because bath time means we are only 3 steps away from bed time. She wasn't even in the tub for 5 minutes before the door bell rings. My daughter hears the door bell and yells from the tub, "WHO IS IT?" I told her, "Veronica and Devon."

My daughter starts to scream and cry, "I WANTED TO PLAY WITH THEM!!" Never mind that she's been playing with them since 11AM. Never mind Devon JUST left our house not 20 minutes earlier. My child starts thrashing and screaming and carrying on. I had to pull her out of the tub because #1, she was flooding my bathroom, #2, she's going to drown, and #3, it was Sunday night and I had had ENOUGH!

I wish I had video taped it. As angry as I was with her, I can't help but see the humor in it (NOW--after the fact). You know how slippery kids are when they're wet, right? My daughter weighs 75 pounds and she did NOT want to get out of the tub ('cause she KNEW she was in trouble). It was like wrestling a 300-pound tuna out of the tub and up two flights of stairs. Consider too that the bathroom floor is wet and I am barefoot. Now just close your eyes and use your imagination.

Uh huh...That little confrontation damn-near killed me.

Lesson learned: Next time, just drain the tub.

6 Random things

2008-09-18T09:12:00.001-07:00

Ruth tagged me with the "6 Random Things" meme.

Here are the rules:
1. Link to the person who tagged you.
2. Post the rules on your blog.
3. Write six random things about yourself.
4. Tag six people at the end of your post.
5. Let each person know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.
6. Let the tagger know your entry is up.

Alright, here we go...

1. I prefer to drink lukewarm water (as opposed to cold). If I'm at a restaurant, I order water without ice. At the water cooler, I top off every refill with a splash of scalding hot water.

2. I've had the same cell phone for two years and I still don't know the number.

3. My sneezes come out like machine gun fire. The most I've ever sneezed in one "fit" is 13, but my average 5-7.

4. I LOVE to mix up my food. I stir my corn into my mashed potatoes, then dip my pork chops into it. I crumble pastries and add them to my cereal. I mix potato salad with baked beans and spoon it onto my hamburgers. I rip up grilled cheese sandwiches and float them in my tomato soup. I even line my peanut butter sandwiches with potato chips. In fact, I had a fajita salad for lunch to day. First thing I did was dump the black beans on top, then added a couple heaping spoonfuls of salsa and a dollop of sour cream. Then I stirred it all up. I LOVE to mix up my food!

5. I don't wear antiperspirant. I think there is too much unknown about what that stuff does to a person. And besides, it's just not natural to stop your body from sweating. However, for the sake of those around me (including myself!), I DO wear deodorant.

6. I can't stand to have my hands wet. I HATE to have my hands wet. I can't stay in the swimming pool for more than 15 minutes before I start to panic.

Now, the rules say that I'm supposed to "tag" six people, but I'm going to skip that part. However, if you choose to play along, let me know.

Ouch!

2008-09-12T08:06:00.000-07:00

My daughter fell out of bed Wednesday night. She sleeps in a regular twin bed, so it wasn't that bad of a fall...not like falling out of the top bunk of a triple bunk bed (and I would know). Thursday morning, we told her what happened and she had no recollection of it at all. But we had proof... OUCH!! That had to hurt. How can she not remember it?

It started raining about 7:30 last night and it hasn't stopped. It's the really nice, soft rain that makes you want to stay up all night and listen. Today is very gray and wet. It's the kind of day that makes me want to stay in bed with a book. I just (last night) finished Seven Days to the Sea: An Epic Novel of the Exodus by Rebecca Kohn. I don't think I liked it. Ms. Kohn made Yehveh (God) a very angry and unforgiving God. Moses was not "blessed", but rather punished by being chosen, almost to the point where one might consider it torture. It is unfortunate that she made Him so aweful, but the real story was about the relationship between Moses' sister (Miryam) and his wife (Tzipporah). That aspect of the story was really very lovely.

Up next, Mirror Mirror by Gregory Maguire. I've read several of Gregory Maguire's books: Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister is the story of Cinderella as told by one of the wicked stepsisters and Wicked is the story of the Wicked Witch of the West from the Wizard of Oz. (I also read Son of a Witch, but that one just confused me.) Mirror Mirror is, of course, the story of Snow White. I'm excited to get started on the book. Gregory Maguire is, in my opinion, a brilliant author.

I'm one of THEM!

2008-09-05T10:02:00.000-07:00

OMG--I did it. Last night, at 11:32 PM, I crossed the line. I became one of "THEM"...one of "those moms". The kind of mom that stirs the pot...throws fuel on the fire. The kind of mom whose name makes teachers and principals moan and twitch. And I didn't even know what I was doing until I was done.

I emailed the principal of my daughter's elementary school at 11:32 PM to demand an investigation of another mother's actions. (I can't believe I'm saying this out loud.) It gets worse...I emailed the mother of whom I am demanding an investigation at 6:28AM and asked that she explain her actions. Then I forwarded her reply to the principal. At 9:50AM, the principal called me at work and said, "I am in receipt of all three of your emails."

I'm a trouble maker...a snitch...a whistle blower...I'm a--a--a--a tattle tale.

Here's what happened. The PTO meeting ends and four of us moms pull to the side and are scrambling to finalize some last minute details regarding the Fall Festival before one mom leaves town. The offender is standing at the edge of our circle saying, "Call me before you buy candy. I have gift cards. Make sure you call me first. You can use my gift cards. I have gift cards that you can use to buy the candy. Make sure you call me. Promise you'll call me." After several minutes of this, we recognized that the offender is not falling for the "ignore her and she'll go away" tactic, so I turn to her and say, "What gift cards? What are you talking about?"

Offender: "I have gift cards at Wal-Mart that you can use to buy candy and stuff."
Me: "Where did you get the gift card?"
Offender: "I asked for it. I go to stores and give them a letter asking for donations and they give me gift cards. It's what I do, Rachel. I raise money."

I turned away and continued to ignore her. The woman would not leave us alone. In fact, she walking out with us.

I was so fired up after I got home that I couldn't sleep. The more I thought about it, the more it bothered me. Under whose authority was this woman soliciting funds? Who is keeping tabs on her? How much money has she collected on "behalf of" the school? And what is she spending the money on? Does the principal of the school even know what she's doing? So I fire off an email to the principal and ask, in short, "WTF?"

At 6:30 this morning, I'm just as upset as I was last night, so I fire off another email, this time I send the email to the offender and cc the principal. I ask the offender, on whose behalf is she collecting the money (school or school organization)? I ask for a copy of the letter used, for a list of organizations from whom offender has solicited funds, a list of who has donated, how much was donated, for what purpose were the funds solicited, and what has been purchased with the funds? I tell her that what I want to see is a checks and balance system. I want to know that someone (besides the offender) is monitoring those efforts. Then I say, "I'm concerned that there are are ethical and legal ramifications to what you are doing." Ka-POW-yow!

Okay, in all fairness, I really don't think this lady would do anything unethical with the money she collects on behalf of the school. But at this point, I'm not sure that she could prove that she hasn't. And I just can't believe that no one is monitoring her! You can't just go willy-nilly around town asking for donations to an organization without that organization's blessing. The school is responsible for every penny this woman collects and NO ONE IS WATCHING HER!!

...at least not until now. Like I said at the top, I threw fuel on the fire. I was told by the principal that he had a meeting with Ms. Offender in his office in 10 minutes. He is going to "reign her in" and get a full account of all activities up to this point, and will monitor her moving forward.

Yes, my friends, we can chalk this up as another victory for Team Justice. My work here is done.

You know what the ugliest part about it all is? By retelling this story, I've become one of the gossip moms, too. Every time I tell the story, I contribute to the "drama" of PTO. I further strengthen the perception that PTO is a bunch of gossipy, catty, moms. THAT's the part that makes me the most uncomfortable. The entire time I type this up, I have this mental image of a glass house haunting me. I think this little episode will force me to take a closer look at myself, at what I say and how I behave.

Umm...FOOD

2008-08-29T13:03:00.000-07:00

I took this idea from Rocks Waves Beach. I think of myself as an adventurous eater. There are few things I don't like and I've never been offered a food I won't try, so I was surprised at how poorly I "scored" on this exercise.

The list is from Very Good Taste on the 100 foods any self respecting omnivore should try at least once. Like to play along?
1) Copy this list into your blog or journal, including these instructions.
2) Bold all the items you’ve eaten.
3) Cross out any items that you would never consider eating.
4) Optional extra: Post a comment here athttp://www.verygoodtaste.co.uk/ linking to your results. The VGT Omnivore’s Hundred:
(note that items with an * indicate foods that I had to look up.)
1. Venison
2. Nettle tea (no, but my daughter got "stung" by nettles once)
3. Huevos rancheros
4. Steak tartare
5. Crocodile
6. Black pudding* (at first, I thought it meant chocolate-it means 'blood' pudding)
7. Cheese fondue
8. Carp
9. Borscht
10. Baba ghanoush* (but based on what I read, I think I'd like it!)
11. Calamari
12. Pho
13. PB&J sandwich
14. Aloo gobi *
15. Hot dog from a street cart
16. Epoisses
17. Black truffle
18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes
19. Steamed pork buns * (but based on what I read, I think I'd like it!)
20. Pistachio ice cream
21. Heirloom tomatoes
22. Fresh wild berries
23. Foie gras
24. Rice and beans
25. Brawn, or head cheese (I would probably have a hard time eating this if I knew what it was)
26. Raw Scotch bonnet pepper
27. Dulce de leche* (but based on what I read, I think I'd like it!)
28. Oysters
29. Baklava
30. Bagna cauda * (but based on what I read, I think I'd like it!)
31. Wasabi peas (LOVE 'EM!!)
32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl
33. Salted lassi*
34. Sauerkraut
35. Root beer float
36. Cognac with a fat cigar
37. Clotted cream tea * (but based on what I read, I think I'd like it!)
38. Vodka jelly/Jell-O
39. Gumbo
40. Oxtail
41. Curried goat
42. Whole insects (I really think I'd have a hard time with this.)
43. Phaal*
44. Goat’s milk (but I like goat cheese)
45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth £60/$120 or more (oh, baby!)
46. Fugu*
47. Chicken Tikka Masala * (but based on what I read, I think I'd like it!)
48. Eel
49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut
50. Sea urchin
51. Prickly pear
52. Umeboshi *
53. Abalone
54. Paneer * (based on the amount of Indian food I eat, surely I've eaten this, but I can't be positive)
55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal
56. Spaetzle
57. Dirty gin martini
58. Beer above 8% ABV
59. Poutine *
60. Carob chips
61. S’mores
62. Sweetbreads
63. Kaolin* (I looked this up and it's clay. Do you think it means those clay pancakes that people in really poor countries eat when they don't have food?)
64. Currywurst
65. Durian * (um--based on what I read, I'm not sure I could get passed the smell)
66. Frogs’ legs
67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake
68. Haggis
69. Fried plantain
70. Chitterlings, or andouillette * (ewwwwww!!!)
71. Gazpacho
72. Caviar and blini
73. Louche absinthe (I just read an article about this in the paper a few weeks ago and it's apparently making a come back.)
74. Gjetost, or brunost * (sounds good!)
75. Roadkill (Whether I ever eat it would depend on what it was and how long ago it was killed)
76. Baijiu *
77. Hostess Fruit Pie
78. Snail
79. Lapsang souchong *
80. Bellini * (sounds fantastic!!)
81. Tom yum (or as I like to call it, "Tom yum yum yum")
82. Eggs Benedict
83. Pocky *
84. Tasting menu at a 3-Michelin-star restaurant.
85. Kobe beef
86. Hare
87. Goulash
88. Flowers
89. Horse (I just don't see it ever happening)
90. Criollo chocolate
91. Spam
92. Soft shell crab
93. Rose harissa *
94. Catfish
95. Mole poblano
96. Bagel and lox
97. Lobster Thermidor * (sounds fantastic!!)
98. Polenta
99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee
100. Snake

Pranksters raise pranksters

2008-08-06T12:47:00.000-07:00

I love a good prank and this prank was GOOD!

My brother leaves for work just about the same time the sun comes up. So, night before last, after he went to bed, his 17-year-old son, J and a few of J's buddies brought "Buffalo Billy" over and got him all sat up in the passenger seat of my brother's van.

Rumor has it Ol' Buffalo Billy startled my brother right good. My brother is a good sport and this is what he had to say about it:

"My first instinct was to protect the family. I dove head first into the van, couple quick chops to its neck to stun him, then drug him out in the yard where I could really go to work on him. Actually, he gave me a pretty good start. Doctor said the burns from the coffee I spilled on my hand should heal nicely with little to no scarring. I gotta admit, I got a little teary when I found out J**** was behind it. Makes a Dad proud to see his son pull one off like that!"

I couldn't agree with you more, bro...I couldn't agree with you more.

My daughter scared me the other day. I went to daycare to pick her up and she was in the bathroom. I hid against the wall and was going to scare her when she came out of the bathroom. Little did I know, she knew I was there and she was on the other side of the wall waiting to scare me. She poked her little head around the corner and very softly said, "Boo".

I almost wet my pants. I screamed out loud and did what I like to call my hallelujah dance--I fall to my knees with my arms waving in the air. I do this dance more than I care to admit, but on this particular day, I did the dance in front of about 30 elementary school children, half a dozen parents and teachers, including the childcare director--who was on the phone.

She got me GOOD! I was so proud.

Oh no she din-nt!

2008-07-30T08:17:00.000-07:00

I home today with a new plumber. This one comes very highly recommended by a man that my husband has worked with for a dozen years. He just showed up a few minutes ago and I like him already.

So the plumber is down in the crawl space dinkering around with the hot water heater. I make myself comfortable on the couch and cozy up with my traveling scarf. As I start to knit, my needles keep snagging on the yarn...what the hell? I can't knit. The damn yarn keeps sticking--yes, sticking--to the bamboo needles. Upon closer inspection, it appears that someone--I assume it was a 6-and-three-quarters-year-old girl, but I'm just guessing--tried to "sharpen" my bamboo knitting needles with the pencil sharpener.

I'm not real sure how I feel about that yet. I must admit that I am ever so slightly amused. (Think eensy weensy teeny tiny amusement.)

Anyone else had their needles sharpened for them?

Home repairs

2008-07-28T10:42:00.000-07:00

I can't believe I didn't tell you about my Independence Day water woes. Long story short, my "PRV" went out. For those of you not hip on your plumbing lingo...PRV is a pressure release valve. It controls the amount of water pressure in your home. Normal home water pressure is 40. Code maximum is 70. The water pressure in my house on July 4 was 170. It was the same pressure as one would find on the fire hydrant that sits in my front yard. That kind of pressure can blow all the pipes in your house. Fortunately, we learned what a PRV was BEFORE the pipes blew and it "only" cost us $400.

Saturday morning my husband, through chattering teeth, reports that we have no hot water. Normally, this wouldn't be such a big deal. I mean, as far as home improvements go, a new water heater isn't THAT big of a deal...what are they? $300 maybe $400? I tell my husband, "You installed a new 220-volt outlet, you can install a water heater."

Our water heater is in the crawl space and it can't be more than 3 feet tall. Guess what...apparently they don't make 3-foot, 40-gallon gas water heaters anymore. What I want to know is, "WHY THE HELL NOT?!?!" Suddenly our $400 new water heater has turned into a potentially $3,000 ordeal (looks like we might have to go tankless). We've got a guy coming over today to see what can be done.

On a side note, my husband and I are both fortunate in that we have shower facilities in our office buildings. So this morning, we got up and packed gym bags with soap, shampoo, wash cloths, rubber flip flops, deodorant, blah blah blah. I found out this morning that my office building doesn't have hot water either.

I guess I should be thankful that it's July and not January. I should also be thankful that we have the money saved to take care of it. The down side to spending all that money on a new water heater is that it's one of those home repairs that we won't really notice. It's not like getting new windows or new carpet or new appliances. Oh well---hold me in good thoughts and I'll keep you posted.

Recipe--YUM!

2008-07-23T09:40:00.000-07:00

So, Udi the Sandwich maker is a bit of a legend around here. The guy makes the most incredible sandwiches--I personally think they are sprinkled with magic dust or crack cocaine or something. But ANYWAY...the Denver Post (with Udi's permission) published his recipe for Orange Balsamic Vinaigrette. It is to die for! I served it on a spinach and grilled salmon salad and since I was home, I licked my plate. Udi also recommends it over chicken and mango.

(Makes 6 cups)
2 cups frozen orange juice concentrate (do not dilute), thawed
1/2 cup red wine vinegar
3/4 cup balsamic vinegar
1/2 tablespoon garlic powder
1 teaspoon sea salt
1/4 cup (scant) sugar
1/2 cup Dijon mustard
2 1/2 cups canola oil
In blender, combine all ingredients expect for the oil; blend well. On lowest speed, slowly add the oil while blending to emulsify. Refrigerate until ready to serve.

Strings and Books

2008-07-22T09:54:00.000-07:00

Howdy. Have you guys checked out Ruth's Massive DeStash yet? Do that, then come back.

And I am excited to be included in Sophanne's traveling scarf project. I'm almost ready to pass my first section along...Ain't it purdy?

I've been struggling with my summer reading. I grabbed a couple of NPR picks and wasn't impressed with either one. I couldn't even get through the first 30 pages of the first one (Too Close to the Sun). It is a biography of Denys Finch Hitton (the guy Robert Redford played in Out of Africa). The story was painfully slow. The second book from NPR's pick list was The Thin Place. I finished that one, but it was really weird. I'm still not even sure what the book was about.

I've been thinking about reacquainting myself with some classic Greek mythology. I put a hold on a book from my local library and stopped in last night to pick it up. It was a kids book. I was in a terrible hurry, so I ditched the kid book and grabbed Homer's Iliad instead. Holy crap. What the hell was I thinking? I'll be lucky if I make it through the introduction!! Maybe that kid book wasn't such a bad idea after all.

What are you reading? Got any good suggestions for me?

It really does take a village to raise a child.

2008-07-14T10:12:00.000-07:00

Over the last 6 years, my family has become the neighborhood house sitters. And that’s cool with me. I have no problem watering your plants, picking up your paper, collecting mail, feeding and walking dogs, shoveling snow, or mowing lawns. We always have keys to at least 2 of our neighbor’s houses hanging in our garage and have watched up to 4 houses at a time. I really don’t mind. In fact, I’m honored that they all trust us.

My husband and I want to start teaching our daughter about money, so we recently announced our retirement from the house sitting business. However, our six-(almost 7) year-old daughter is more than happy to take over the family business…for a small fee. She charges fifty cents a day (a dollar a day if you leave the dog at home).

Her first customers were out of town for 7 days. This lady has the most incredible wave petunias I have ever seen and they require watering twice a day when it’s hot. My daughter got up early every day so she could take in the newspaper and water the plants before school. After school, she watered again and carried in the mail. On trash day, she dragged TWO trash cans and TWO recycle bins to the curb, then toted them back later that afternoon. The child did an outstanding job and was rewarded with TEN dollars…more than twice her fee.

Thursday, B and J went out of town again. And they (B and J) had been watching J and J’s house. So now, my daughter needed to water B and J’s flowers AND J and J’s flowers. J and J would be home on Sunday.

This morning, J and J saw my daughter watering the flowers at B and J’s house and came over with a thank you card. When my daughter opened the thank you card, there was a $20 in it. I really wish I had known that was coming. I never would have allowed it.

I’m sure that B and J told J and J that my daughter would be taking over watering the plants for a couple days and that my daughter is earning money for Disney World. I’m sure that J and J thought that was cute and wanted to help my daughter earn money. Maybe $20 wasn’t that big of a deal to them. But it defeats the purpose of our money lesson.

How can my child learn the value of the dollar when she gets $20 for splashing water on a couple plants for a few days? Even the $10 that she got a few weeks ago is too much. They only owed her $3.50. Five dollars would have been acceptable, but $10 is too much.

I this is a great example of why “It takes a village to raise a child”. I need my “village” to help me teach my daughter about earning money. Money is not free—you have to work for it. And sometimes that work is hard, dirty, smelly (Mike Rowe), and sometimes we’d rather go play with our friends. But if you don’t work, you can’t have that cute little stuffed polar bear from Kohls.

Catch up

2008-07-09T15:01:00.001-07:00

I found THIS on the outside of my office window today.

Crazy bug was 7 stories up and missing a leg! After I downloaded the picture, I found two months worth of snapshots on the camera--most of them had completely slipped my mind. Like this one...

We went to Fort Collins back in May to meet my sister-in-law. She and her husband were about to move from Wyoming to Tennessee, so we met them "half-way" at a city owned and operated park called "The Farm". Very very cool place...highly recommended. They have chickens, ducks, pigs, cows, horses, sheep, and goats. We spent $2 on a bag of oats and let my daughter feed the animals. She was petting one goat and a second one snuck up and ripped that bag of oats right out of her hand. Fortunately, she thought it was hilarious and laughed until her face turned blue.

I also found these pictures:

This year's Parker Country Festival was on Father's Day weekend. I think it was the 23 or 28th year and it just keeps getting better. They block of "downtown" and set up a carnival (rides, food, games, arts, crafts, beer, and bands). It is SO much fun. And this year, my daughter's girl scout troop was invited to participate in the parade. They were "Scouts on Scooters". What a blast. My daughter is the one sporting the "firecracker hat"!

What a nice surprise...finding all those pictures.

Truth Hurts

2008-07-08T12:09:00.000-07:00

I’m sure I’ve mentioned that I work in a very small office (two people, including me). I usually wear jeans or even shorts to work, but Monday we had a visitor from corporate, so I had to dress up. I wasn’t sure if that visitor was going to be in our office today, too, so I figured I'd better dress up again, just in case.

My “dress-up” wardrobe is almost non-existent. I dug out a really cute 8-year-old sundress to wear on Monday. This morning, I was digging through my closet and could only find one other outfit that fit me—and it is tight! I said to my husband, “I look like a stuffed sausage!” My husband (being the well-trained husband that he is) replied, “No you don’t, hun, you look nice.” At which point my daughter chimes in, “Well—yeah, mom, you kinda do look like a stuffed sausage.”

I’ve never met a 6-year-old who lies about the way you look, so I squeezed into a girdle and committed to a day of discomfort. It’s 1:00 and my face is turning blue.

No...corporate didn't show up. My coworker is in jeans.

Priorities

2008-07-02T12:11:00.001-07:00

It's been a long time since I've posted because I really don't have anything to talk about. Same shit, different day. But then today, on the way to work I heard a news story that threw me over the edge. I have to express my disgust...

The "news" was that a syndicated radio talk show host's contract was renewed for $400 million dollars. FOUR. HUNDRED. MILLION. DOLLARS. I immediately turned to my husband (we car pool now) and asked, "What the hell is WRONG with us?" FOUR? HUNDRED? MILLION? DOLLARS?

What kind of society is willing to pay a pompous jackass $400 million dollars to flap his trap and piss people off when there are millions in our country going hungry? We have citizens that can't afford to pay for life-saving medications and thousands of schools that are literally falling down while student share outdated text books. Our military personnel are fighting a war while their spouses stand in line for food stamps. And this son-of-a-bitch is making $400 million dollars. NO ONE, I don't care who you are, NO one needs $400 million dollars. Not even over an entire lifetime.

And this is only one example. Don't even get me started on the "stars" (sports, movie, or otherwise).

It makes me sad.

Newton's Law

2008-06-24T07:33:00.000-07:00

Newton's third law of motion states: "To every action there is an equal and opposite reaction." I find this statement proves true every time its tested. And it is curiously similar to the law of karma, yes?

All this nonsense has to do with the fact that I got a new bra. And may I say, "Holy crap...I feel like a new woman!" I'm walking taller and I feel beautiful. But I can't smile.

Same day I get my new bra (yesterday), I get a piece of lettuce stuck under my gum. Of course it's a piece of red-tipped lettuce and it's the red tip that got stuck. I tried to dig it out last night and managed only to push it down deeper. I mean to tell you that I have never seen anything like this in my life. This lettuce is WAY under my gum...front and center (of course). It looks disgusting and it's starting to swell. I'm afraid I'll need some DDS intervention on this one.

Today is my eight year wedding anniversary. We aren't exchanging gifts this year because we've booked a Disney World vacation for August. I know that it's sweltering hot and miserable, but with my daughter on year-round school, our options were limited. AND we'll be there for my daughter's 7th birthday. I'm so excited I can't stand it. We leave in 52 days.

Is it just me?

2008-06-11T13:06:00.000-07:00

Seems lately that every time I turn around, I find a super hot guy.

A month ago I asked building management to install a fire alarm strobe light in my office (because we didn’t have one and we missed the last two fire drills). Yesterday this incredibly sexy man comes to my office to do the work. My office has this supervisor window, so I can see the entire office from my desk (I remind you that there are only two of us in this office and I supervise no-one). The guy is up on his ladder RIGHT outside my window A-L-L day. And he is OH-MY-GOD hot.

Today, ANOTHER hot guy shows up to work on my AC. Are you kidding me? This one is even better looking than the one yesterday. Where do these men come from and where can I get one?

And you’ve heard about my neighbors, yes? No? Well let me tell you…they are Greek gods. These 20-something brothers are about 6-foot, 4-inches tall with 6-pack abs, blond hair and blue eyes. They like to mow the grass with their shirts off. As a matter of fact--I like them to mow the lawn with their shirts off, too. I call them the “hot neighbors”. They probably call me the “creepy neighbor.” I’m damn-near old enough to be these boys’ mother.

I was reading a book with my daughter a couple nights ago about the importance of taking care of your skin (keep it clean, wear sunscreen, use lotion, blah blah blah). We got to the part in the book where they talk about why people’s hair color is different and why older people have gray hair. My daughter says to me, “Well, you’re old and your hair isn’t gray.” It was late and I was tired so despite the three thousand rebuttals that flooded my brain, I opted to leave that one alone.

Q is for Quiet--please!

2008-05-20T15:21:00.000-07:00

The only times in my life that I have ever had trouble sleeping was late in my pregnancy and the first few weeks after I quit smoking. Aside from that—not a problem. I can sleep through a hurricane and, in fact, I have—Hurricane Hugo in September 1989. I can not imagine how frustrating it must be for people (my husband) who suffer insomnia. HOWEVER—waking ME up at 2:30 in the morning to tell me that you can’t sleep isn’t going to help you OR me. And don’t wake me up to tell me that you’re sick unless there is something I can do to help you. Like, “I’m sick, could you please get me a cold rag.” Or “I’m sick, would you get me a bucket.” Or even, “I’m sick, will you please call 9-1-1.” Don’t wake me up and say, “By the way…I’m sick.” What the hell are you telling me for?

Now that I’ve met that damn alphabet requirement, I have something important I want to say... WARNING--It’s a sales pitch.

As a BzzAgent, I get to sample products for free in exchange for spreading the word about said products. A few weeks ago, they sent me a sample of “Aveeno Positively Ageless lifting and firming night cream”…OH-MY-GOD! This stuff is incredible! Seriously, I noticed a difference immediately. The lotion smells great, it absorbs quickly, and leaves no greasy residue. Within a week, my skin was noticeably smoother. I’m not saying I had fewer wrinkles (I’m only 35), just that my skin was smoother. I checked out the entire line of facial products and none of them cost more than $20. AND…if you go to the Aveeno Website, you can sign up for a free sample and coupon.

My sales pitch sounds so corny. I wish you all knew me better so that you knew how serious I am. Some of you will figure, “What the hell” and you’ll go buy it. Then you’ll be all, “Dag—That Rachel girl was spot on!” Uh huh…just wait. You’ll see.

P is for Piss on the Alphabet!

2008-05-19T13:44:00.000-07:00

I am SO over this alphabet crap.

Last weekend (May 9 to be exact) I went with my daughter's Brownie Scout troop to the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo in Colorado Springs. It was VERY cool. They let you feed the giraffes. No shit--check it out...

My daughter is in the green sweatshirt. She's laughing so hard because the giraffes kept sticking their tongues out. Those tongues are SO long...and dripping slobber. Yuck!

How cool is that? These two shots were taken inside at night. The outside display is huge and has this elevated bridge so you can walk through the enclosure. The giraffes walk right up to you and let you pet them. It is SO SO SO cool. If you ever find yourself in the neighborhood, remember--Cheyenne Mountain Zoo in Colorado Springs. Don't forget your camera.

What else...Oh--Mother's Day. My daughter was super excited to fix me frozen waffles, a bowl of Cheerios, and fresh squeezed OJ for breakfast. She fixed the whole meal all by herself (I cut the oranges in half so she could squeeze them)--even poured the milk. It was one of the best meals I've ever eaten. She also presented me with a hand painted pot holder. It was the perfect gift from the perfect child on a perfect day.

That's all I have for today. Except that Ruth tagged me.

The rules of the game get posted at the beginning. Each player answers the questions about themselves. At the end of the post, the player then tags 5-6 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know they’ve been tagged and asking them to read your blog.Let the person who tagged you know when you’ve posted your answer.

1) What was I doing 10 years ago?
I was doing administrative work as a permanent employee of a temporary staffing agency, living in sin with my boyfriend (now husband) and his (then) 10-year-old son.

2) What are 5 things on my to-do list for today (not in any particular order):
Write the strengths and recommendations for the PIPs section of a technical report, post this blog, cook dinner, finish potting my flowers, put daughter to bed.

3) Snacks I enjoy:
almond stuffed dried apricots and wasabi peas, but as I write this, I'm munching on a bag of cherries.

4) Things I would do if I were a billionaire:
Host an expense paid family reunion on a Caribbean island (I have a HUGE family and it would cost damn-near a billion dollars to pull it off!)

5) Places I have lived:
Charlotte, NC; Fort Worth, TX; Huston, TX; Gastonia, NC; Wilmington, NC; Aurora, CO; Englewood, CO; and Parker, CO

6) Jobs I have had:
Target, fabric/craft store, waitress, bartender, receptionist, admin assistant

7) 6 peeps I wanna know more about:
I don’t know very many bloggers and most of those I do know have already participated, so I extend an invite to anyone else who wants to play.

O is for OH. MY. GOODNESS.

2008-05-16T07:25:00.000-07:00

How many times have you read or been told that if you peel a banana from the bottom, you won't get those strings? Well, you know what? I call bullshit! I eat a banana every day and this week, I went against my gut instinct and made a special point of peeling my bananas from the bottom. Guess what...STRINGS!

You know what I heard on the news this morning? "We all know that carrying around a few extra pounds is bad for our health, but a recent study shows that being obese can also contribute to global warming." The local CBS affiliate went on to report that more fuel is needed to transport people who are overweight, people who are overweight eat more, and people who are overweight walk less. And that all three of these factors are contributing to global warming. My coffee almost came out of my nose. Are you shittin' me? I think someone just crossed a line.

I'm all for doing my part to reduce global warming. I reduce, reuse, AND I recycle. Know what I did on Mother's Day? I mounted baskets on my and my daughter's bicycles so we have something in which to carry our goods when we pedal to the farmers market. I use cloth rags instead of paper towels. I wear my jeans two, three, sometimes even FOUR days before I wash them AND I wash all my laundry in cold water. I even rinse out my cardboard ice cream containers and put them in the recycle bin with my cereal boxes and newspapers.

So, Mr. CBS Affiliate, don't you DARE give me crap about my few extra pounds. Enough is enough!

(I should have saved this for "R is for Rampage!")

N is for Nature.

2008-05-02T08:05:00.000-07:00

This post would also be appropriately named, The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly. But I’m locked into this damn alphabet thing and determined to see it to the end. So I’m going with “N is for Nature”.

Look here…
This is the trail I walk my daughter to school on. We often see wildlife and no matter how often we see it, we always get excited. The coolest thing we ever saw was a fox…with dinner (squirrel? rabbit?) hanging from it’s mouth. It was running straight towards us, then crossed the street 10 yards before it ran between our legs. We just stopped and starred at it. Sometimes we see snakes, ducks, squirrels, rollie pollies, worms (especially after a good rain), beetles, grasshoppers, and always lots of birds.

Our favorite thing to spot is these…
I know the picture sucks. It was 8PM and I was on my way home from the HOA meeting last night. There were cars behind me, so I had to shoot fast. You should be able to see three deer, but there were 8 of them on the side of the road last night. There are a couple pretty healthy herds that live in Parker. The most we’ve ever counted in one gathering is 23. I have lived in my house for 6 years and I still get SO excited when I see these deer. I just love them!

As for the bad and the ugly…THIS, my friends, is what a couple of squirrels will do to your home, if left unattended:
Those bastards must die. Not really—we’re going to use live traps and sink ‘em in the river…I mean feed ‘em to the coyotes…I mean SET THEM FREE!! …in the woods. Set them free in the woods, WAY out in the country where they have big squirrel cities and all the nuts they ever wanted. Gourmet nuts, even. And they have big squirrel carnivals and parties every Saturday night. It’s a great place…these little rascals are gonna love it!

M is for Miscellaneous

2008-04-29T08:30:00.000-07:00

This weekend, my husband and I dug up our front yard (we moved existing and added a few new sprinkler heads). I woke up Monday morning with every joint in my body screaming. He says, “Well, I’m not sore.” I replied, “apparently you didn’t work as hard as I did.” My knuckles hurt when I bend my fingers. My ankles hurt, my toes hurt (would you believe I stomped my own foot?), my elbows, my knees, my hips...even my ears hurt (Note: ears need sunscreen too)!

We also spent the weekend waging war on the squirrel(s) living in the walls of our house. If you wonder how I know its squirrels, I encourage you to read Attack Critters. (It's an amusing story.) Those little bastards have chewed a hole 3 inches high by 8 inches long in the side of my house. Do you know how much it costs to get a “Critter Control” company out? Five HUNDRED dollars. I give my husband a week. One week from today he’ll not only want to pay the $500, he’ll be ready to sell his soul to the devil in exchange for the extermination of those critters.

Saturday night, I let my daughter give me a French manicure. I took a couple pictures of it, but you couldn’t see anything in the pictures. Bless her heart, the little gal did the best she could, but I have to say that my cat could have done as good a job—only she wouldn’t have put as much love into it.

I screwed up last week when I said the sock class was “tomorrow” (wrong Tuesday). The class is “today”. I’m really very excited. Know what else I’m excited about? THIS I emailed the link to Ruth with the subject line, “I’ll drive”. Of course she’s going with me.
And no kids allowed!! (Well...my kids and Ruth's kids aren't allowed, but you could take yours if you wanted.)

L is for LOOK!!!

2008-04-22T14:40:00.000-07:00

IT'S A HAT! Hell yeah, I made it! My very first knitted hat eh-ver. Can you see the cables? Damn skippy I did cables! I'm lucky to still have both eyes. Isn't it lovely? I might burst with joy.

And since we're looking...I thought I'd throw out this picture taken earlier today from my office window. Remember when I said that if it weren't snowing, you could see the mountains? Told ya so.
And then there's my daughter high upon a mountain in Boulder a couple weeks ago.

We went on a hike with one of my sisters. It became apparent immediately that (1) My daughter is out of shape and (2) my sister doesn't have children. My daughter whined and cried the entire afternoon, "my legs hurt" and "I'm tired" and "can we rest?" The little thing is lucky her Auntie didn't throw her off the side of the mountain!

And by the way--it really wasn't cold enough to justify the winter parka. She insisted on wearing that coat, but would have been fine with wind breaker.

K is for...

2008-04-21T13:53:00.000-07:00

I haven’t blogged in what…a week?!?! ‘cause I’m all hung up on this stupid alphabet. The obvious answer for K is knit, but I had just posted the picture of the hat I am working on, and sadly, I’m not much further along than I was when I took that picture. But as I’m typing my to-hell-with-the-alphabet post, I remember that Ruth signed us up for a sock knitting class I guess they’re going to teach us how to knit two socks at a time. This oughta be good seein’ as I don’t even know how to decrease or increase yet. That teacher’s go her work cut out for her!

Hell, I don’t even have yarn yet and I guess Monday is to yarn stores what Sunday is to liquor stores. I found that out last week after I made my daughter ride her bicycle to the yarn store with me BEFORE dinner. Have I mentioned that the yarn store (like everything else in Parker) is downhill…as in the way home is always UP hill. It took us 4 minutes to get there and 45 minutes to get home.

This little sock experiment is pretty symbolic of how I approach life. I have little fear of failure. I just set sail and figure it out as I go along. Sometimes my ship sinks, but mostly I manage to get myself to shore. Here’s hoping I make it to shore this time! Regardless of where my boat lands, I’ll have a great story to tell!

J is for Jeopardous

2008-04-10T10:25:00.001-07:00

I was all ready to give up on the alphabet thing, then a quick search of the thesaurus gave me the word, "jeopardous". This a perfect word to describe my would-be commute this morning. Fortunately, my husband took mercy on me and drove me to work in his truck. Why was the commute jeopardous? Are you serious? Have you looked outside lately? See for yourself just how jeopardous it is...Okay. So that picture isn't really a good example of the jeopardous driving conditions, however, it IS a good example of just how YUCK it is today. If it were a nice day, this top picture would be a fantastic view of the Rocky Mountains. Seriously. But it's not nice. It's snowing like mad in Denver Metro. Just look at the parking lot...damn near empty. I guess these people must all be "working from home". Must be nice.

The good news is that instead of risking my life driving my squirrelly car in these jeopardous conditions, I got to KNIT! It was so cool. The other good news is that thanks to my daughter, I have a lovely reminder that all will work out in the end...

I is for Initiation

2008-04-07T14:10:00.000-07:00

Well, ladies...I was officially initiated into the knitting world on Friday. Not only did I have FRONT row seats to hear the almighty Stephanie Pearl McPhee... Check it out...there were more than 200 hundred people who came to hear her.
I have to be honest and say that my first thought was, "Wow...she has a really deep voice!" I can add that I found some comfort in that because I have a deep voice. I laughed so hard. I like what she had to say, but wished it had been less scripted. She is so funny, it would have been fun to just listen to her go. This is me with the Queen Bee herself...

Everyone was fantastic! I kept cracking up at all the ooooohhhh and aaahhhh uttered while petting all the various projects, "May I touch it? ...ooohhhhh that is sooooooooo NICE!" Ruth and I arrived at 3:00 for the 7:30 signing and were number 6 and 7 in line. The place filled up really quickly and I was grateful that Ruth thought to bring chairs!

Afterwards a group of us went to dinner, then another group joined us. The night was loud and rowdy and full of mutual admiration and respect. I was honored to spend my afternoon and evening surrounded by so many wonderful women.

...I also learned to knit in the round with double points...and there are cables in this!

Holy Schnikies is right! I'm lucky I still have both eyes (but the project is still young). The first few rows were so awful, I almost cried. I kept thinking, "how can anyone think this is fun?" It was just awful. But I'm sticking with it. I owe it to myself to give it an earnest attempt and I can honestly say that it is getting easier. I knit continental style (with the yarn in my left hand), so that purl stitch is a booger for me. I haven't figure out a way that works for me yet, but I'm getting closer.

And how about all these pictures? I can hardly believe it's me!

H is for Humor

2008-04-03T07:15:00.000-07:00

I don't think I could make it to lunch time without a bit of humor. One of my husband's most endearing qualities is his outstanding sense of humor. And my daughter is quite a card herself. So naturally we wanted to celebrate April Fools Day with couple of good, old fashioned pranks.

I wake my daughter up every weekday with a cup of warm pink (strawberry) milk. She drinks her milk while I sing the "Good morning to you" song. On April 1, I woke my daughter with a cup of warm BLUE milk. I guess it was a little too early in the morning, because she didn't think it was funny...Until I said, "APRIL FOOLS!" She immediately started plotting a prank on Daddy!

We put her 36-inch doll in her bed and fluffed the covers to make it look like it was my daughter, then she hid behind the bedroom door and called for Daddy to come cuddle with her. Daddy climbed into her bed and snuggled up to her doll, then said, "What...what the? Hey...this isn't...!" At which point, my daughter leaps from behind the bedroom door and screams, "APRIL FOOLS!"

Daddy is a really good sport.

But the most fun prank came later that night, my daughter helped me make "cupcakes" for dinner.These are meatloaf muffins with mashed potato frosting. Of course my husband new he wasn't eating a cupcake, but he totally played into it. I thought my daughter was going to wet her pants when she saw the look on his face after he took the first bite. She laughed so hard, I was afraid she'd choke! It was a good day.

Ruth is always really good for a laugh. She has this great big laugh, and she throws head back and just surrenders to it. It feels so good to laugh. I love to be with people who make me laugh.

I have a co-worker in the Phoenix office that calls me sometimes and just says, "Make me laugh." Within two or three minutes we'll both be hee-haw snort laughing. At the end of the conversation, as we wipe away tears and start to settle down, one of always says, "Damn...THAT was good exercise!"

G is for Giddy

2008-03-31T08:48:00.001-07:00

What makes children giddy? Well, okay...there are thousands of things that can make children giddy. Spring was the answer I was looking for. Spring makes children giddy (and adults, too).

In my neighborhood, Spring is unofficially official when they flush the fire hydrants. Ruth's children came down to take part in the Spring ritual. Only those boys didn't know what was happening.

What's this lady doing?

Ewwww...

Hummm....

Not bad, I tell ya...not bad at all!

Hey...he's right...this is pretty cool!

Ya-HOOOO!!! I'm a kid and I can't feel the cold!

They opened the first hydrant at 7:30 AM. They didn't open this one until 2:00. My daughter changed her clothes FOUR times on Saturday.

And in case anyone is wondering, we pulled a bucket for each child and made them scoop the water onto the lawn.

Don't look at me like that...my husband and I helped.

F is for Fruit of my labor!

2008-03-27T07:23:00.000-07:00

My labor and my daughter's. I mentioned in my Monday post that my daughter and I got books from the library on painting rocks and making friendship bracelets. We made the bracelets Saturday night. My daughter is 6 and impatient, so it was looking like the bracelet thing wasn't going to work. Then we found the instructions for the twister bracelets. You cut 24-inch lengths, knot one end, then twist like crazy. Once you've twisted the entire length, you fold the length in half and let it twist itself in half. She LOVED it. It was so easy and the results look fancy. After the first one, she decided she wanted to make one for everyone in her class...and all her cousins...and everyone in the neighborhood...and maybe she could sell them at a garage sale.

We spent some time on Sunday painting rocks. We have a landscape supply company in town that sells rocks by the pound. They weigh your car/truck on the way in, you fill it up, then weigh again. They have these great river rocks that are just perfect and they cost like $0.10 a pound or something. We usually get a couple dozen rocks for between $3 and $5. Anyway, I have painted rocks all around my yard. Most are just painted one solid color and we have a few rainbows, smiley faces, and polka-dots. This book we found at the library (Painting on Rocks for Kids) has step-by-step instructions on painting cars, bugs, dinosaurs, lizards, fish, etc. It was great!

Pretty cool, huh?

E is for an Exultant Evening

2008-03-26T13:26:00.000-07:00

Last night was school night at Red Robin Burgers and we were told that 10% of the proceeds would be donated to my daughter’s school. My family doesn’t eat out very often, and when we do, it’s lunch on Saturday. We almost never eat out during the week…but we did last night and we had SO much fun! The restaurant was packed with students and faculty (we got there at 6:30 and had a 45 minute wait).Every time we turned around, we saw someone we knew. We were all laughing and waving and “Hey there! I’m so happy to see you…isn’t this a great turnout!” People stopped by our table to say hello or to tell a joke or comment on the status of their bracket. The staff did an outstanding job keeping every one watered and feed. I made a special point to tell the manager on my way out how impressed I was that his staff pulled it off. It was SO COOL!

I love where I live. I am privileged to be part of such an outstanding community. Get this…about a year ago I my daughter and I had stopped on our way from somewhere to visit a friend who lives about 1/4 of a mile from my home. When it was time to leave, my daughter wanted to run home, but I couldn’t run with her because I had my car. So I drove real slow while she jogged on the side walk. A couple driving by thought it was a strange sight, so they TURNED around and asked me if everything was okay. I smiled and said yes, so they asked my daughter, “Are you okay? Is she bothering you?” They thought I was a bad guy trying to pick up her up and that she was running away from me. And they made it their business to confirm that all was okay.

We have the best neighbors and spend many an evening visiting with one or more. We watch each other’s children and borrow milk and eggs and recipes and dishwasher detergent. We shovel each other’s driveways and sidewalks and borrow air compressors and chain saws. When someone’s wash machine breaks mid cycle, we haul the laundry next door.

…and when the school does a fund raiser, I am reminded of just how great my community is.

D is for Dork

2008-03-24T13:12:00.000-07:00

Boy do I feel like a Dork. I gave blood today. It was great! I threw up AND passed out. I reckon I've given whole blood two dozen times in my life and I lived two years off the money I earned from giving plasma. I NEVER passed out OR threw up...until today. I don't know what happened. Maybe one of the 8 to 10 people in the room could tell you.

Speaking of sick...My daughter and I were out running around on Saturday. We stopped at the library to exchange some books and picked up a few craft books for children. One was about painting rocks and the other how to make friendship bracelets. The craft store is right across the street, so we stopped there next to buy some paint and embroidery floss.

We're in the check out line for 10 minutes when she decides she has to go to the bathroom NOW! And the bathroom is, of course, at the back of the store. The child locks herself in the stall, then starts wailing and crying, "PLEASE HELP ME!" I said, "Unlock the door." She says, "I CAN'T! HELP ME!!" After a desperate 10 second search of the bathroom, I'm convinced there is nothing there to save me from the inevitable. I turn the the mom next to me (who was wise enough to hold the door closed for her daughter) and say, "The things we do for our children." I then proceed to get down and belly crawl--across a public restroom floor--under the door. Now I have to burn the clothes I was wearing.

C is for Crocus

2008-03-20T12:10:00.000-07:00

I know I already did C, but I noticed this morning that my crocus aren't just coming up, by jolly, those rascals have BLOOMED! Good googly-moogly, Spring has Sprung! And just in time for Easter (which I should save for Sunday's post). It's dark and hard to see, but it was really early in the morning when I took this picture.

You're checking at my toadstools, aren't you. I saw that idea in a Family Fun Magazine (LOVE Family Fun) and had to have them! My neighbor cut down her dead aspen trees, I ran right over and asked if I could have them. I have some in my back yard, too.

Enough about the toadstools...we're here to talk about C. C is also for "Community". I organized my neighborhood's egg hunt last weekend. We had a great time. It took about 6 woman hours and close to two dozen shots to fill two THOUSAND eggs. Then it took another 8 children and 4 adults 30 minutes to distribute the eggs. We held those children back as long as we could. The whole thing was over within in 20 minutes of the word, "GO!"

"Short and sweet and plenty to go around." was the best comment I heard. It was a blast and I can't wait until next year.

C is also for "Camera" and I've learned how to use mine--Yippee!!

C is for Chair

2008-03-18T10:09:00.000-07:00

My husband is part facilities manager (part HR) at a very large, very lucrative engineering firm. That firm recently replaced ALL the chairs in the office with new, ergonomic, matching chairs. The old ones were up for grabs. Employees were invited to take them, then everything left over would be given to charity (this company gives so much stuff to charity--it is AWESOME).

So...hubby asks me if I think my daughter's school might be interested in some chairs. "I imagine they would...I'll ask!" And I did. I even sent a picture of the chairs to the principal and, "You want any of these?" A few days later he replies that he would very much like to have 4 of the chairs. Great...Honey...bring me 4 chairs!

Honey: Woops...um...er...chairs are gone.
Me: Excuse me?
Honey: I forgot that I told SuzieQ to get rid of the chairs and she found a charity that wanted them.

Son of a bitch. Now I have to go back to the principal and tell him no dice. It takes me 3 days to buck up enough courage to tell this guy the chairs are gone. I felt like a total boob, but I did it. I emailed yesterday and said there was a misunderstanding and I am sorry, but the chairs are gone.

My honey just called to say he has 4 chairs, does the school still want them.

B is for Basketball

2008-03-14T13:47:00.000-07:00

Ugh...if it ain't one kinda ball, then it's another. I got home from work last night and my husband was watching a basketball game. I said, "Are you kidding me? Is it March ALREADY?!?!" There goes any chance I had of watching anything besides basketball until this stupid tournament stuff is over. I was going to say that the only thing worse than college football bowl games is the March Madness tournament...but then I changed my mind. There is NO-thing worse than March Madness.

Once, I won $5 because every team I chose to win the first bracket, lost.

Seriously, I have been going crazy trying to come up with something "B" to blog about today. I almost blew it off, but I really want that LYS gift certificate Ruth is giving away!

A is for Anne of Green Gables

2008-03-13T10:33:00.000-07:00

I just started reading Anne of Green Gables. I was in the kiddie section of the library with my daughter on Sunday and the book was displayed on top of a shelf with a piece of paper sticking out of it that said something like, “Emily thinks this book rocks!”

I have not read the book, but I watched the series on PBS with my mom when I was in high school. I don’t remember anything about the story. What I do remember is that my mom and I had about 6 hours invested into this series that my dad recorded for us. It was the last episode and my mom and I stayed up late to watch the end. We were both on the edge of our seats, sobbing like babies when the tape ended. Ants…snow…static…call it what you will, all I know is that I never saw the end of the movie. Mom and I just sat there, stunned. We looked at each other with this shocked, what-the-hell-just-happened, stare. We looked back at the TV…then at each other…TV…each other. That’s the only time I ever proposed to my mother that we attack my father.

I love to read. When I was a child, we lived about 1/2 mile from the public library. In the summer, we’d go to the library (because it was so well air conditioned) and read for hours. I would bring home stacks of paperbacks and would often stay up until 2 or 3 AM to finish a book. I could read 5 to 6 books a week. I can’t do that anymore. Most obviously because I don’t have the time, but also because I need time to digest what I just read. I need to explore what those words meant to me and how I’m going to allow them to fit into my life.

I most recently finished two books by Gregory Maguire: Confessions of an Ugly Step-sister and Wicked. Both books blew—my—mind. So much so, that I can’t even get into it now. I don’t even know where to start.

You read any good books lately?

All hail DST!

2008-03-12T09:42:00.000-07:00

I LOVE me some DST (daylight saving time). We switched our clocks on Sunday, so now, it’s light outside until after 7. My daughter and I agreed to celebrate with an after school/work bike ride/jog. She would ride her bike and I would jog. She gets exercise AND I get exercise. This is gonna be GREAT!

So, Monday night, I get home from work at 5:50. I race upstairs and change my clothes, then into the kitchen to get dinner started. I get my chicken in the oven and my potatoes on the stove. When I get back from my jog, dinner will be ready. I’m flippin’ brilliant!

I tell my husband, “The chicken is in the oven and the potatoes are on the stove. I set the timer for 15 minutes. When the timer goes off, turn on stove (to cook the potatoes) and reset the timer for 30 minutes. If I’m not home when the timer goes off the second time, take the chicken OUT of the oven and turn OFF the potatoes. I should be home in 30 minutes.”

My husband is actually an intelligent man and these are easy instructions. He’s happy that he gets to stay home and is eager to do whatever he needs to do so that I’ll leave him in peace. I’m bloody BRILLIANT! Fail-proof plan…right?

I get home 2 minutes before the timer goes off the second time. Chicken smells fantastic! Potatoes are stone cold. Dumb ass turned on the WRONG BURNER!

Reckon I oughtta come up with a Plan B.

Stretch and Grow!

2008-03-10T10:50:00.000-07:00

I have quite a few house plants. They are mostly Heart-Leaf Philodendrons and spider plants (aka airplanes). Every couple years I roll up my sleeves and repot. Here's a picture of my Dracaena Massangeana Cane in the new pot, next to the old pot. Can you believe I made that poor plant suffer in that tiny pot? I'm lucky the thing is still alive!

And what about these spiders? It was so root bound that had to cut the dang thing out of the pot!

Maybe I should consider this repotting business more often!

My day of repotting plants has made me especially eager to get my garden started. I live in Colorado, so I get to put my peas and my spinach in next week (peas on St. Patty's Day). My Family Fun magazine had a great suggestion of using empty soda bottles (2 liter) as little greenhouses. I think I'll try my hand at starting my tomatoes that way.

Our growing season is so short, that I usually end up buying tomato plants. The problem with this is that you never really know what you're getting. Sure the tag says it's yellow, but those sweet angelic children have been re-arranging all the tags, so chances are, it's cherry...or beefsteak.

This year, I'm going to stick with it for as long as it takes to ensure that my garden is the best ever (last year my garden was NOT). No vacations planned until late in the season, so I should be in good shape. Keep your fingers crossed for me and I'll keep you posted on my progress.

Recycle/Reuse

2008-02-27T12:44:00.001-08:00

On a recycle/reuse scale of 1 to 10 (with 10 being a person who dries and re-uses toilet tissue), I think I fall at about a 7. My husband, on the other hand, is about a 3. I don't understand why he insists on throwing beer cans in the trash when the recycle tub is RIGHT THERE! So I pick through the trash a couple days a week and redistribute the recycling.

I also have this thing about saving containers for "craft projects" that I never do. I can not throw out a coffee can to save my life. I had about 15 of them stacked up when I got notice from the school that the art teacher wanted them. I sent a box full of coffee cans, peanut butter jars, and oatmeal canisters, with a note that said, "I thought you'd never ask!" I'd been collecting these things in my garage for 2, maybe 3 years! Of course I didn't get rid of all of them. We still need jars to collect lady bugs, grand-daddy-long-legs, and worms in!

So, I have "reuse" for all you green thumbs out there. You know how we put rocks in the bottom of house plant pots to help with drainage? Well, use packing peanuts instead. They work just as well and you won't add weight to your pots.

What is your best/most creative "reuse" tip?

Letter to My Daughter

2008-02-25T14:16:00.000-08:00

Hi, Peanut Butter…it’s mom. Listen, I know I got really mad at you this weekend but I’m over it now. I’m not mad anymore…I promise…pinky promise…for reals! But I gotta know…please...please tell Mommy…how did you do it? And why did you do it? And why didn’t you stop when you saw the mess? What was going on in your little head? What were you thinking? I mean…the ENTIRE bottle of baby powder A-L-L over MY bedroom? You KNOW that my bedroom is my sanctuary. I worked an entire summer to make that room perfect. From the paint to the chest, to the fabulously regal bedding, it’s my special place. And you doused it in Johnson & Johnson Aloe Baby Powder.

Was it fun? Did it look cool when the “smoke” puffed out as you squeezed the bottle? Did it smell good? Did you drop it…3,278 times? Did you want to write your name in it? Did it feel good to roll around in it? I want to know why you did it. And how you did it! How did you get the powder so evenly distributed?

My fabulously expensive (for me) satin and velvet (looking) patchwork bedspread with the deep reds, golds, greens, and purples was covered with baby powder. The deep red velvet drapes turned white. The dressers, lamps, TV, floor, bench, all of it…covered with a light, white, dust.

I hope that you learned a lesson after having to clean the mess yourself. I hope you will remember how many toys you could have bought with the money I took from you to help pay for the dry cleaning.

I promise I’m not mad anymore. Just please tell me…was it fun?

Crabby

2008-02-22T11:57:00.001-08:00

When working at my computer, my back is to my office door. This isn't my preferred arrangement, but the length of computer cables and the layout of my office pretty much dictates the arrangement for me.

So, I have a document I wrote up on my computer and I'm on the phone discussing edits with a woman from another office. My boss comes into my office and stands behind me. I turn to her and say, "Did you need me?" She say, "No." then proceeds to package a CD, tape it shut, and label it for mailing. She's standing there dinking with this stupid package for almost the entire conversation.

Why is she doing this at my desk? I didn't have any of the supplies she required in my office, she brought them all with her. She didn't even use my pen. She assumed she knew who I was talking to, but couldn't have been sure (I'm the one who answered the phone). My conversation had nothing to do with her and wouldn't have made sense to her even if she heard both sides of the conversation!

So why was she standing in my office while I was on the phone? Am I alone in thinking this was rude? Is there a way to tell your boss to get the hell out of your office without getting fired?

Crunching Numbers

2008-02-13T14:32:00.000-08:00

Work is crazy. I’ve been working on budgets and timelines. FIVE YEAR budgets and timelines. Do you know how hard that is? There are more assumptions than tasks!

It’s been four days, but I think I finished the timelines. Tomorrow, I revisit the budgets.

The good to come out of all of this crazy is that I’m having a great time writing proposals again. I used to write proposals for an engineering firm and I loved it! Let me clarify…I loved the work, but hated the hours. I used to work 8 until 6, pick up my daughter from daycare, go home, fix dinner, play, bathe, and put her to bed, then go back to work from 10 until 1. I’d be up at 6 am the next day and do it all over again. Yeah…the hours sucked.

So anyway, if we loose this contract, I’ll suggest that they allow me to write proposals from home. They only have one person doing marketing right now and she could really use some help. AND I could do it from home. AND I get to write things like, “Our team of professionals was hand-selected to best address your needs.” and “Our carefully monitored programs offer superior results.”

Speaking of needing some help…I am having trouble downloading pictures to post. I spent the weekend repotting plants and was all excited to show you the pictures. I downloaded them to my computer, but apparently I downloaded them as an album rather than individual shots. I’m still working on it.

Reading

2008-02-08T12:01:00.000-08:00

I just finished reading Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister by Gregory Maguire. It is the first book by him that I've read and I LOVED it! For those of you who may not be familiar, the book is written from the point of view of one of Cinderella's stepsister. It is facinating to me on so many levels, but most notably, how the same story can take on a different meaning, depending on the point of view. After I read Confessions, I thought, "Well, of course! These stepsisters got screwed!"

It's a great story. I really enjoyed it. So much so, in fact, that I have reserved Maguire's first book, Wicked, from the library. Wicked is the life story of the Wicked Witch from the Wizzard of Oz. I can't wait.

Today is Friday and I'm thrilled! We are supposed to have some fantastic weather in Denver Metro this weekend...both days! I'm going to repot my plants and go on a bike ride with my daughter (and clean and do laundry and get my grocery shopping done, blah blah blah).

What are you doing (or what did you do, as the case may be)?

Moms...We Rock!

2008-02-07T12:07:00.001-08:00

My life seems a blur the last week or two. I was reflecting on my accomplishments this morning and thought, "I should, at the very least, get a high five for pulling this off...this "mom" thing." Not that I have done anything above and beyond any other mom, but just think about what we do... It's incredible what we accomplish.

As much crap as my husband gives me about misplacing my sunglasses or my car keys (or both, as the case may be), I remembered to buy Valentines and ensured that my daughter had them in her back pack. I remembered that she had a special homework assignment that was due and I reminded her about her appointment with the school's occupational therapist (handwriting issues). I remembered to fill her water bottle and pack a peanut-free snack (one of the kids in her class is alergic). I remembered to write one check to the PTO, one to the lunch lady, and one for daycare. I remembered that it was PE day, so if my daughter wears snow boots, she needs to also take tennis shoes. I remembered that we have GirlScouts tonight and that prizes will be given to the girls who can recite the pledge and the promise.

I keep the cupboards stocked with everyone's favorite foods, and cook dinner at least 5 nights a week. There's plenty of soap, shampoo and toilet paper. The cat is fed, the laundry is done, toilets are clean, and the recycling makes it to the curb every other Tuesday.

On top of all of this (and more), I work 40 hours a week outside of my home. So, to all you moms out there, "HIGH FIVE, SISTER---WE ROCK!!!!"

I Give Up

2008-01-29T11:40:00.000-08:00

Not really...it's an empty threat and anyone who knows me, knows it. It usually makes me feel better and its a good way for me to get my point across.

"What happened?" you ask. Dinner. That's what happened. I like to think that I'm a good cook. After all, I like my cooking (usually). The truth is, I'f good intentions counted, I'd be a mater chef. Unfortunatley, "the road to hell is paved with good intentions. "

I am a very adventurous eater. I'll eat damn near anything and I get excited about new foods. I love to mix flavors and often times get a tiny bit of everything from my plate onto my fork for each bite. I like sweet and hot and salty and cold and creamy and raw and cooked and grilled and smoked. I LOVE food. I love that the possibilities are endless.

My husband, on the other hand, is a meat and potatoes man. As far as seasonings go, if it's not salt, pepper, or brown gravy, it's "sauce" and he doesn't want his food "all sauced up!" After 11 years with him, I find myself in a cycle. I cook what he likes (fried chicken and pork, steaks, hamburgers, and lots and lots of potatoes and corn) for several weeks, then I get bored. I try to sneak foods in thinking that eventually he will see things my way and become a lover of all things "food". It never works. Even when I try to do it straight his way, I still manage to jack things up.

Last night was what I thought a "his" dinner night. I made pork chops, smothered in gravy served with baked potatoes and cheesy cauliflower. I sauteed some onion and garlic in olive oil, then added the pork chops to brown, then some chicken broth and flour. Simple enough, yes? No.

How was I to know that the garlic was industrial strength concentrate? There was no warning label on it. It's just a bulb of garlic. Recipe called for 4 cloves (settle down--I know the difference between a clove and a bulb). I thought that sounded a bit much for pork chops, so I only used two. Within minutes, my nose burned and my eyes watered...ah crap...I start trying to scoop it out. Five minutes later my husband yells from downstairs, "What the hell are you cooking in there...my god...are you trying to kill me?!" He was right. It was crazy. We opened the windows, the doors, and turned on fans trying to air the house out. And, of course, it's like 25 degrees outside, so now the house is like an ice box.

All he could say was, "What the hell would you put garlic on a pork chop for anyway?"

"Then YOU cook!" I tell him, "I give up!" I swore as I marched up stairs to read. I still don't know if he ate it.

Organic...Yea or Ney?

2008-01-28T14:53:00.000-08:00

I read an article in the Denver Post back in July 2007 titled “Reasons you should buy regular goods” by Jackie Avner. What can I say? She’s got a good point. And I found numerous publications that support what she's saying.

I think the concept of keeping our foods free from chemicals is a good one. I don’t want to poison myself or my family by eating apples laced with some toxic bug killer. But I think this can best be accomplished if we buy local. I shop at the farmers market all summer and I LOVE pick-your-own farms! And if these local farmers are organic, that’s all the better. But I’m not going to spend 20% to 40% more for produce that’s been shipped in from all over the world just because it promises to be grown without chemicals.

I think the best option yet is to grow your own. I plan a garden every year, but last year my garden sucked (because I didn’t put forth enough effort). I’m ahead of the game this year. I got a book from the library that shows you how to compost in a plastic trash can (the big ones that you drag out to the curb every week for the truck). I’ve started browsing seed catalogs and am mapping out my plots. I’ll be starting some seedlings inside this year (we’ve tried this before and failed, but I’m learning).

So…what do you think? Do you buy organic foods? Do you grow your own? Do you think I’m an imbecile? Leme have it!

Work Stuff

2008-01-25T08:38:00.000-08:00

During a conference call on Wednesday, I got word that we lost one of the two contracts I work on. It was a HUGE blow. I gasped out loud, felt faint, then thought I might vomit. I had to sit down. That million dollar contract was 40% of my job and now it’s gone. Gulp!

This wouldn’t be as devastating except that we’re currently writing the proposal for the other contract I work on. The contract that requires my company have an office in Colorado…yeah…that one. It’s out to bid this year, too.

I’m really…REALLY nervous. Regardless of how stellar an employee I might be, it doesn’t make sense for the company to keep me if we don’t have this contract. There are only two of us in Colorado and they have 200 in Arizona. The ONLY reason I'm here is because the contract requires it. I'm just a warm body.

My head hurts again and I think I’m going to throw up.

I know in my heart that no matter what happens, I’m going to land on my feet. If I loose my job, it’s because there is something better out there for me. It’s just that the unknown is scary to me. I need structure…and routine…I need an aspirin…and a drink...I need to update my resume! It is going to be weeks--maybe months before I find out what happens.

Hey, who knows…maybe I’m destined to home school Ruth’s kid! Ha Ha Ha

St. Anthony to the Rescue!

2008-01-23T07:53:00.000-08:00

A special thanks to my new BFF, Saint Anthony, for helping me find the Girl Scout cookie order form. And thanks to all of you for sending me good thoughts. The form was safely tucked into the pocket behind the passenger seat of the truck.

My daughter's goal is to sell 100 boxes and we have orders for 90 boxes so far. My husband took the order form to work yesterday and hung it up in the kitchen beside two other Girl Scout order forms. He's worked with some of those people for 10 years and he is the HR guy, so I expect he'll get a couple dozen orders despite the competition.

How many of you were sent here by Olga? Welcome! Thanks so much for stopping by. You're here at a good time. Guess what I learned how to do...

Whoops...let me try that again...

I learned how to knit AND I learned how to post pics!!! O happy day! Unfortunately, I'm still a crappy photographer. This is a picture of a garter stitch scarf made with a very fluffy baby alpaca. I can't be anymore specific than that because I seem to have misplaced the wrapper. Do you see a theme developing here: lost cookie order form...lost yarn wrapper...

That's all for today. Come back tomorrow for a healthy discussion of the pros and cons of organic food.

Lost

2008-01-18T09:29:00.000-08:00

Saint Anthony, Saint Anthony,
please come around.
Something's lost
and can't be found!

I lost my daughter's Girl Scout cookie order form. Poof! Vanished. Here I've been freaking out for weeks about having to collect orders for 100 boxes of cookies. We go out ONCE and collect orders for 50 boxes. Who knew my neighborhood was a Girl Scout cookie order gold mine? I collect the orders, then I loose the form. I lost the flippin' form!!!

My husband is unable to pass up an opportunity to kick me when I'm down. As I'm tossing the house for the sixth or seventh time mumbling, "Where the hell IS it?" He says, "You know...if you'd just put things where they belong..."

I was actually pretty proud at my lightening-fast comeback. "You know what? You are absolutely right. In fact, as soon as I find this form, I'm going put YOU in charge of Girl Scout cookies."

I even went to the public library last night to ask if we dropped the form in the book return. I called the last person who ordered to ask if we left the form at her house. I spoke to the Cookie Mom to ask if someone had contacted her about it (since her contact information is on the form). Nothing. I reckon the cat ate it.

Don't you know that as soon as I finish explaining to my neighbors that I lost the form, I'll find it

Meanwhile, if you see Saint Anthony (the patron saint of lost articles), tell him I need some help.

Whole Foods

2008-01-17T08:55:00.000-08:00

Ah yes…the grocery mecca for all that is organic. I’m not much of an organic person for a few reasons, none of which we’ll get into today. Remind me sometime and I’ll tell you why, but today, I speak of my experience at Whole Foods.

Overall my experience on Tuesday was very good. I was pleasantly surprised that, in general, the food there is not THAT much more expensive than what I buy at Safeway. What really surprised me was the amount of food they sell in bulk. And it’s SO CHEAP! They had a whole isle of different kinds grains (rice, bulgur, couscous, oats, and pastas), flours, sugars, honey, syrup, fresh-ground nut butters (peanut and almond), trial mixes, and dried fruits! I was in utter awe. It was beautiful. Like I said in the beginning, I’m not an “Organic” person, but I do consider myself “Green” and the idea of reducing packaging AND saving money has me all excited. I can’t wait to go back!

My co-worker (actually, she’s my boss, but she was my co-worker for 2 years before she became my boss and I prefer to think of her as a co-worker) has been put on a low sodium diet (this woman has more health issues than the boy in the bubble). Her restricted diet has encouraged me to re-think the amount of sodium I consume, as well. I am dumbfounded by the amount of sodium that is in our food. Consider this, her diet restricts her to 1500mg a day. Now go to your pantry and look at the labels on your pre-packaged food. One can of Campbell’s chicken noodle soup has more than 1800 mg of sodium (890 mg per serving times two and a half servings per can). In fact, it’s so ridiculous, that the FDA is thinking about regulating it. This, again, is a story for another day.

Back to Whole Foods…they sell veggie chips. They are made with carrots, spinach, and potatoes and have half the fat of regular potato chips. Being the curious sole that I am, I bought some for my daughter.

Day one: Daughter LOVES the “rainbow” chips. Score one for Mom. Yeah, my kid eats spinach chips…and she likes them.

Day two: Daughter reports that “The green chips taste like cat litter.” I quickly poo-poo her metaphor with, “Oh yeah? Well, how do you know what cat litter tastes like?” She responds with, “Once…”

WHAT?!??! NO WAY! Sweet Jesus, please…I beg of you…In the name of everything that is good and holy--do NOT let this child tell me that she has tasted cat litter. Mother Mary, Dear God, NO! Tell me she didn’t…

Daughter continues, “Once, after Dad cleaned the litter box, I fell and a little bit got in my mouth.”

For the next 90 seconds we just stare at each other. She's smiling weakly. I'm expressionless.

I finally muster up the courage to continue with, “So…did you get to play outside today?”

Yeah…my kid eats cat litter…what of it?

Diet Update (includes recipe!)

2008-01-16T08:51:00.000-08:00

I don’t own a scale, at least not one that’s reliable, so I don’t know how much weight I lost, or even if I’ve lost any. But I have been a champ about sticking to the eating part of my diet. The exercise part has been a little more difficult to squeeze in, but I’m definitely eating “low fat”. I have not gone to the gym yet this week, but I HAVE gotten up early every day and done my leg exercises.

I have chondromalacia patella. Don’t worry, it’s not contagious. My kneecap doesn’t line up properly so the cartilage under my kneecaps is wearing out more quickly than what is “normal”. It is very painful and I like to describe it as “crunchy knees” because my knees crackle, pop, and grind whenever I bend them.

I went to a specialist back in May and had it officially diagnosed, then I attended a couple months of physical therapy. The physical therapy worked GREAT! Seriously. I started running 5 days a week and was loving it. Then it got dark in the mornings so I quit running. Then it got cold in the mornings and I quit getting up early to do my leg exercises. Then my knees started hurting.

I really expect to get on a gym schedule next week. You’re thinking, “Blah, blah, blah” but I can’t go tonight because my daughter has religious education class at 6 and tomorrow night we have Brownie Scouts at 6:30 and PTO meeting at 7.

So for dinner last night I had cranberry bulgur stuffed peppers. It was DE-lish and SO easy to make. Let’s see if I can remember…

In a skillet, mix 14 oz of chicken broth with 1/2 cup of chopped carrots and 1/4 cup of chopped onion. Simmer for 5 minutes. Stir in 1/3 cup of dried cranberries and 3/4 cup of wheat bulgur (more about this a little later). Remove from heat, cover, and let sit for 5 minutes. Meanwhile, cut two bell peppers (I used red, but you can use any color) in half lengthwise so they will fit in the skillet, clean out seeds and set aside. Stir in 1/2 cup of shredded Muenster or mozz cheese (I used fat-free mozz) into the bulgur mixture. Fill peppers with bulgur mixture, put peppers in the skillet, add 1/2 cup of water and simmer until peppers are tender crisp.

About the wheat bulgur…it looks like brown couscous. It has a bit of a chewy texture and a nut-like flavor. It’s almost impossible to find it in a regular grocery store, but can usually be bought in bulk at your local organic grocery store—like a Whole Foods. In fact, I went to Whole Foods yesterday specially to purchase the bulgur. This trip to Whole Foods was a real experience for me…one that I’ll share with you tomorrow!

I got it!

2008-01-15T13:27:00.000-08:00

I got it. It was a very unpleasant experience, but I got a brand-spanking new, fire engine red, 5-door (hatchback) Chevy Aveo. It's the cutest little thing you ever did see! I've only put 16 miles on it and I already love it. My daughter named it, "Lil Red" and she had her trademark finger prints smeared all over the back window before we even got off the lot.

It took THREE and a half OW-ERRRS (hours) to purchase this car. I went to the dealership straight from the office and didn't leave until 9 PM. I still can't decide if I was more hungry or more angry. This silly man was trying to sell me these extended warranties. I kept saying, "No thank you...Nope...No thanks…don't want it...NO warranties. I don't need it…No…Not interested…No." Finally I leaned across the desk and said, "It's a ten thousand dollar car…if it breaks, I'll throw it away and I'll buy a new one. I don't want your warranties. I'm hungry, I'm tired, and what I want, is to go HOME!"

Do any of these people recognize the irony in these warranties? I'm trying to buy a brand new car and you're asking me to pay for repairs "just in case" it breaks! It's a BRAND NEW CAR!!

I do have to say that I got a screaming good deal on the car. I had to fight like Braveheart to get it, but I got it! Those poor bastards made more money off my daughter with their stupid vending machines than they made off me buying that car!

The good news is that I won't have to go through that again for at least 3 years (that's when the warranty runs out and the car crumbles to dust).

Whadid I do?

2008-01-10T09:59:00.000-08:00

Hunker down, folks…it’s going to be a very L-O-N-G year.

I got an email yesterday about Barrak Obama. The email warned me that Obama is a closet Muslim and that if he gets elected president, the terrorists will have control of the United States. The email says that the claims contained within had been confirmed by Snoops and it invites me to confirm the story myself.

So I did.

Turns out, the email is false (of course). It says the facts have been “…distorted and exaggerated…” I found the Snoops article fascinating on several levels.

I have to pause here and throw out my disclaimer. I am a registered Republican because my parents are Republican’s. Period. I don’t even know the difference between Republican’s and Democrats and I don’t care. I don’t think it matters (feel free to comment on this--correct me if I’m wrong). Whenever I vote, be it for the mayor, the sheriff, the council member, senator, or president, I vote for the candidate that I believe is best for the job, regardless of his or her party affiliation.

I am frustrated that our “system” makes it so hard for people to make informed decisions. The candidates are all full of shit. They all are telling us what they think we want to hear…what they think will win them the most votes. And then to be sure they get enough votes, they lie, distort, and exaggerate what the other guy did, does, said, says, believes, blah blah blah. The fanatic supporters even go as far as to try and scare me into believing that by voting for a Muslim candidate, I will give the terrorists control of my country.

Okay. Back to the email about Obama (who, by the way, is not Muslim)…after I read the Snoops article, I did a “reply to all” and said, it’s a lie, here’s the Snoops link.

I started war. This lady fires back (to “all”, of course) and says (among other things), that she is a college graduate and tells me that I insulted her intelligence. She says, “If Obama had a chance at my vote, your email reply just killed it.”

WTF? What did I do? What did I say? I appreciate that you haven't seen the actual emails, so I'll forward them to you if you want. I honestly don't understand how my email could have been more offensive than the first. All I did was say that Snoops reports that the claims made in the email are false and I included the link to the Snoops website.

Maybe I should move to Canada for the year or better yet, find some remote island in the South Pacific to take refuge. Until then, I reckon I best keep myself participating in political commentary (after this post, of course).

35 to go!

2008-01-09T11:56:00.000-08:00

I started a diet on Sunday. It’s a delicate balance of Weight Watchers and Body-for-Life, with a heavy dose of common sense (eat less, exercise more). Wish me luck.

So far, the best part of my diet is the food. I know that sounds crazy, but I’m finally cooking for ME, not my husband. I get to eat things like lime pepper chicken breast with wild rice. Last night I made these incredibly delicious salmon and veggie packets. Tonight, I’m making prosciutto-wrapped shrimp grilled with bourbon BBQ sauce served with couscous and peas (I’m so excited!). These are low-fat recipes that I pulled out of a Better Homes and Garden cookbook and they take less than an hour to prepare!

And a good diet is worthless without some good ol’ exercise. (This is where the Body-for-Life part comes in to play.) I’ve committed myself to a schedule where I work out my upper body one day, lower body the next day, and do cardio the third day…lather, rinse, repeat. Only I started with cardio: a 3-mile jog (alone) plus a ½ mile stroll (with my daughter) and 20 minutes of jumping rope with my daughter (I almost died). That jumping rope Kicked. My. Ass. I couldn’t decide what would explode first: my lungs, my heart, or my knees.

Day two started with sore legs (I’m serious about jumping rope—YOU try it). I pushed through the pain and completed my lower body work out. Now…I didn’t do the same workout I had planned (that stupid plan was WAY too ambitious!), but I completed a (too) strenuous work out.

On day three, I could hardly walk. My legs hurt SO badly! What the hell? Having learned my lesson, I started my upper body workout with much more reasonable expectations (and lighter weights). I had a good workout. I’m a bit tender in some spots, but no pain (in my upper body).

Day four…I woke up in tears at 1 AM and, using only my arms, dragged my crippled ass to the bathroom for Aleve. I can barely walk, never mind the act of standing up and sitting down. Every time I do it, I sound like I’m giving birth. I’m walking around looking like I have a corn cob stuck up my ass. But I MUST do something and I’m scheduled for cardio. Maybe I could just sit in my chair and wave my arms frantically for 20 minutes.

What the hell? It’s not like I did leg presses with 50 pound weights or something. I only used 10 pounds! Oh well. I reckon I’ll know better next time.

My goal is to loose 10 pounds by my birthday (February 17--I accept cash and personal checks) and another 25 pounds by May 30. Wish me luck and I’ll keep you posted on my progress.

Bamboozled!

2008-01-03T13:41:00.000-08:00

A couple nights ago, my daughter comes over to me and asks, “Do you want me to rub your feet?” “Hell yes I want you to rub my feet!” She rolls up her sleeves, takes off my slippers, and proceeds to rub my feet. After a few minutes she says, “Mom—this costs two quarters.” “I’ll give you two quarters, just keep rubbing.” Now, folks, this 6-year-old give a mean foot-rub. Seriously, she’s good! After about 5 minutes on each foot, she asks, “Do you want me to rub your shoulders?” Of course, I say, “Yes!” After a few minutes of this she says, “You need to lie down.” I don’t consider myself particularly savvy in the art of massage, but when your massage therapist (be her 6 or 60) tells you to lie down, lie down. My little girl starts gently pounding my back. It felt AWESOME!! Holy Crap! This kid is 6-years-old and she is giving me this kick-ass massage!

When it’s all over I say, “THAT was great! Instead of two quarters, I’m going to give you two DOLLARS!” She says to me, “No, Mom…your feet were two quarters. THAT cost FIVE dollars.”

Bamboozled by a first grader!

Meanwhile...I'm still working on those resolutions. Don't hold your breath.

Confessions of a Junkie

2008-01-02T15:35:00.000-08:00

Hello. My name is Rachel and I am a picture puzzle junkie. It’s hard to say when my addiction started. I remember that the house I grew up in often had a picture puzzle being worked on the dinning room table (we ate in the kitchen). We’d dinker with it while chatting on the phone, or on a Sunday afternoon. I don’t remember that I was particularly drawn to the puzzles, but we all participated.

I didn’t work on picture puzzles anymore after I left home. I reckon it was for all the same reasons anyone stops doing picture puzzles, you either just don’t think to do it, or you don’t have space.

I bought my daughter her first puzzle when she was 3. She had been enjoying the puzzles so much at school that we picked up a couple 24-piece Winnie the Pooh puzzles for her birthday or something. She really enjoyed them and was good at it! This innocent past time for my 3-year-old inspired my girlfriend, Shari, to put out a puzzle in her home one year at Thanksgiving. What a great idea! Several of us picked away at it during the Thanksgiving party, then again during the football parties and finally finished it at the New Years Eve party (Shari is the Queen of Entertaining, be it 2 guests or 20, this girl can throw a party).

After we finished the first puzzle on New Year’s Eve, we cracked open another…then another…and another. I used to hang out at her house on Thursday nights. Shari and I would share a few cocktails and chat about our week as we hovered over a picture puzzle. Our children would entertain each other until late. I’m embarrassed to admit that my 4-year-old would come down stairs rubbing her eyes asking, “Momma…when are we going home?” “In a few minutes” I’d reply until Shari’s daughter would say, “Mom…it’s 11:00.”

I should have recognized the addiction the first time this happened.

Santa brought my husband a 1000 piece picture puzzle for Christmas this year. I had Christmas week off and he has this week off, so we thought it would be nice to have a puzzle in progress. My daughter’s diet for three days consisted of marshmallows, Cheetos, and Rice Krispies. She never even changed her clothes or brushed her hair, never mind taking a bath. My husband and I spent our waking moments bent over the table, our eyes bloodshot and brittle, our backs screaming for mercy, but we finished it! I snapped a picture of it before we crumpled it back into the box and spread out a new puzzle.

I was up at the crack of dawn on New Years Day, huddled over a steaming cup of coffee…and the picture puzzle. Now I sit at my desk after having been gone for 11 days and all I can think is, “I bet that bastard finished it!”

As for new year’s resolutions… I’m still developing my carefully laid-out plan of action. It has to be serious enough that I actually do it, but because I’m a mom, it has to also be flexible enough so as not to negatively impact the rest of my family. Frankly, I have no idea how I’m going to pull it off. I’m still working on it.

2007-12-20T07:14:00.000-08:00

A man and woman had been married for more than 60 years. They had shared everything. They had talked about everything. They had kept no secrets from each other, except that the little old woman had a shoe box in the top of her closet that she had cautioned her husband never to open or ask her about.

For all of these years, he had never thought about the box, but one day the little old woman got very sick and the doctor said she would not recover.

In trying to sort out their affairs, the little old man took down the shoe box and took it to his wife's bedside. She agreed that it was time that he should know what was in the box. When he opened it, he found two crocheted dolls and a stack of money totaling $95,000.

He asked her about the contents. "When we were to be married," she said, "my grandmother told me the secret of a happy marriage was to never argue. She told me that if I ever got angry with you, I should just keep quiet and crochet a doll."

The little old man was so moved, he had to fight back tears. Only two precious dolls were in the box. She had only been angry with him two times in all those years of living and loving. He almost burst with happiness.

"Honey," he said, "that explains the doll, but what about all of this money? Where did it come from?"

"Oh," she said, "that's the money I made from selling the dolls."

Christmas Crazy

2007-12-19T07:24:00.000-08:00

My husband and I attempted to begin and complete my daughter’s Christmas shopping in one night—last night. It shouldn’t have been a problem. Most of the things she asked for she isn't going to get...too obnoxious...too babyish...too much money...all the above...blah blah blah. She wants that "Butterscotch" horse (yeah, right...it's like $200 dollars). She also wants that “Squawkers” talking parrot (No way am I gonna spend $60 on something named "squawkers"). As odd as it sounds, she has also been asking for a cake decorating kit. "MOM!! MOM!!! It's the Betty Crocker Cake Decorator. It comes with all the things you see here, and you must be 18-years or older to buy!" I remind you that my daughter is 6.

The one thing that she really really wanted is the Polly Pocket Race to the Mall racetrack. She’s been begging for it since September and even saved up enough money to purchase it herself ($35 worth of 25-cent lemonade). By the time she had enough money, it was December and I wouldn’t let her buy it, “No way—why do you want to spend all your money on something that expensive when you can ask the Big Guy (Santa) to get it for you?!?” So every time she sees a Santa, she asks for Polly Pocket Race to the Mall. (Actually, she asks for “Barbie” Race to the Mall, and it took me 2 months to figure out it’s Polly Pocket, not Barbie. Barbie doesn’t have a race track—she’s so lame.).

Guess what…apparently every six-year-old girl wants Polly Pocket Race to the Mall. Either that, or NO one wanted it and the stores quit carrying it.

Oh, crap.

I have visions of a road trip to Wyoming…then maybe Kansas…quite possibly New Mexico. Whadda ya say, Ruth? You with me?

Getting closer...closer...

2007-12-18T14:00:00.001-08:00

Tonight is the night my husband and I shop for the girl (did you read the book, The Road? The main characters are "the boy" and "the man"...it's odd). I'm excited and nervous. My husband is a tortured soul. He hates crowds and this is going to be a living hell. I think he'd rather be poked in the eye than go Christmas shopping. BUT as long as he does his breathing exercises, we'll be fine (I'll take my flask in case of an emergency).

After this little excursion, we're done...except for food. We're having an open house on Christmas Eve and I am looking forward to my menu. So far I've settled on classic martinis, Cosmo martinis, Chambord and champagne cocktails, prosciutto-wrapped Parmesan-pecan dates, bacon-wrapped scallops, hot artichoke spinach dip, and Asian meatballs. Of course, I'll have a meat and cheese tray, veggie tray, crackers, pretzels, chips, salsa, cookies, blah blah blah. I'm still working on it.

You wanna come to my party, don't you? But you can't...I know, I know, I've heard all the excuses, "But I live in Carolina!" "But we do Christmas Eve at the in-laws house." "I'm going to my moms!" Blah blah bah humbug. I'm gonna party anyway.

I don't expect that we'll have as large a crowd as we did last year, but that's cool because I can get much more fancy with my menu if I'm not feeding an army. Can you imagine making 4 dozen bacon wrapped scallops only to have them all eaten within the first 20 minutes of the party?

I have the week of Christmas off of work. My daughter and I are planning all kinds of adventures. I was so excited to take her to the US Mint in Denver only to find out that all the tickets through the end of December were snatched up two weeks ago. We'll find something even more fantastic to do. Some of our best days are pajama days, so it's not like she has high standards.

I may or may not post again before the new year. If I do not, I want to be sure I wish you all a very happy holiday season.

Cheers!
- rachel

Mixed emotions

2007-12-12T14:44:00.000-08:00

I went to the doctor on Monday for a meds check. I gained even MORE weight. Holy crap...I'm THIRTY-FIVE pounds overweight. Needless to say, it was like getting punched in the gut. I have to get this under control. I'm chatting with the doctor and telling her that I AM exercising...30 minutes of hard core cardio 3-5 days a week. And I've been doing this for weeks! I would have been okay if she's told me that I didn't loose weight, but still gaining...that's not acceptable. I'm pissed.

Doctor tells me, "Start writing down everything you put in your mouth. You've got hidden calories in there somewhere." I'm heart broken because I'm sure it's the booze. I just did a quick looksie and guess what? A glass of red wine has 170 calories in it. That's more than a can of soda. Do you know how long I have to sweat to burn 170 calories? God help me. I looked up whiskey...it's only FIFTY calories! Hallelujah! God loves me and he wants me to be warm and fuzzy!

I'm not going to do anything about this until after the first of the year. I'm going to keep on with what I'm doing now, I'm just not going to start counting calories and fat and sodium, etc. until the holidays are over. And until then, I'll take comfort in knowing that I can drink my whisky guilt-free.

Christmas meme

2007-12-11T10:11:00.000-08:00

Welcome to the Christmas edition of getting to know your friends. Okay, here's what you're supposed to do, Just copy this entire blog and paste into a new blog. Change all the answers so that they apply to you. If you play along leave me a comment and a link to your blog I'd love to see what you have to say!

1. Wrapping Paper or Gift Bags?
wrapping paper
2. Real tree or artificial?
real tree (but Uberstrickenfrau has made me rethink this..who knows what will happen next year).
3. When do you put up the tree?
The first or second weekend in December.
4. When do you take down the tree?
Depends on how dry it is--First weekend in January.
5. Do you like Egg Nog?
Yup--with brandy or bourbon (not rum).
6. Favorite gift received as a child?
I don't know that it was my favorite as much as it is the one I remember the best--it was a mermaid doll bath toy with a sponge lily pad.
7. Do you have a nativity scene?
Yes...two.
8. Hardest person to buy for?
It changes every year. Probably have to say my husband's parents.
9. Easiest person to buy for?
My daughter
10. Weirdest Christmas gift you ever received? (I changed this--it used to say the "worst")
It's a tie between the swimsuit and ONE set of towels (1 bath, 1 hand, and 1 washcloth)
11. Mail or email Christmas Cards?
If you're going to do it, I vote snail mail, but I don't do it, so I don't feel qualified to vote.
12. Favorite Christmas Movie?
A Wonderful Life.
13. When do you start shopping for Christmas?
January.
14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present?
Probably, but I can't think of what it was.
15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas?
Prime Rib.
16. Clear lights or coloured?
Coloured, hands down.
17. Favorite Christmas Song?
God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen by Bare Naked Ladies and Sarah McLachlan
18. Travel or stay home at Christmas?
Stay home!! (meaning in town)
19. Can you name all of Santa’s Reindeer?
Yes. Side note: my husband argues that it's Donner, but I say it's Donder (German word for thunder). What do you think?
20. Angel or Star on the top of the tree?
Star
21. Open Christmas Eve or Morning?
Morning
22. Most annoying thing about this time of year?
The crowds!
23. What’s the corniest family tradition you do or miss doing?
All our family traditions are corny!
24. What’s the worst thing you’ve seen related to Christmas?
Hummm...this one has me stumped.
25. Which looks best, theme trees or homey trees?
Homey trees.
26. Gingerbread or Sugar Cookies?
Gingerbread--gingerbread is more special.
27. Do you like fruitcake?
Oh yeah, baby--see "I've been tagged, number 2)

I've been TAGGED!

2007-12-10T14:57:00.000-08:00

Well, I was going to talk about my symptoms of early menopause, but Ruth tagged me. I’ve never been tagged before. The rules (posted below) say I have to share 7 random and/or weird things about me. I am finding it embarrassingly difficult to come up with 7 random and/or weird things. I might need to enlist your help! Or, maybe I can list that as a weird thing—I’m so normal, that I’m weird! Anyway, here I go…

THE RULES:
1. Link to the person that tagged you and post the rules on your blog.
2. Share 7 random and/or weird things about yourself.
3. Tag 7 random people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs.
4. Let each person know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

7 Weird Things 'bout ME...

1. I hate to have my hands wet…freaks me out! The only thing worse than having my hands wet, is touching someone else’s wet hands. My daughter isn’t allowed to touch me after she gets out of the pool or bath tub until all the wrinkles go away.

2. I really, seriously LOVE fruitcake. (Okay, that’s enough. Take her away!)

3. I love to have my toes pulled and my nails (finger and toe) squeezed.

4. I cry when I’m really happy or excited. My husband and I went on a scenic 45-minute train ride a couple years ago. I got so excited when they blew the whistle that I burst into tears. I cried at the rodeo one year. I’ve been known to cry during SuperBowl highlights. Hell, I even cry when I hear really good songs on the radio.

5. Logic was my favorite college course. I loved logic. It was the only course that I got an ‘A’ in.

6. I love to garden, but rarely eat anything that I grow.

7. I believe using the bathroom is the most inconvenient chore EVER. Because of this, I hold my pee until my eyes water.

OH thank God I’m done! Whew! Now the next part of this getting tagged business requires that I “tag” 7 random people. I don’t know 7 people who blog, so I am REALLY gonna get random. I closed my eyes, spun the globe, and here is who I picked…

Princess Trish, Kati, Sue, Alexandra, Janey, Carol, and last, but not least…Rachel

You're not crazy, ladies. None of you know me. But you can be sure I'm going to be checking in on you periodically to see if you've played the game!

Cheers!

Speaking of Gifts

2007-12-04T15:39:00.000-08:00

Happy 31st Birthday to my brother, David. I love ya, big guy!

Gift Quandaries

2007-12-04T15:32:00.000-08:00

I do my Christmas shopping year round. I’m flipping through a catalog and I see a token that is the most perfect gift ever for Sam I Am. I HAVE to buy this for Sam I Am, and I do. Rather than give it to Sam I Am right away, I save it for Christmas. Few weeks later I stumble across the cutest token of love that would be the PERFECT gift for Cinderella and Tom Thumb. And, “Oh My! 75% off at Happily Ever After—why for only a few dollars, I can add a little somethin-somethin to those tokens of love!”

Here’s where the quandary comes in…What about Mother Goose and Chicken Little? It’s December and I don’t have anything for Mother Goose OR Chicken Little. I can’t ship gifts to Cinderella, Tom Thumb, and Sam I Am and not send something for Mother Goose and Chicken Little. Now, I’m in a panic because I have to find a gift for Mother Goose and Chicken Little.

It happens to me EVERY year. I find myself unprepared and I end up making a forced purchase. I buy something just so I have something, and that is EXACTLY the way it comes across. I just don’t know anyway around it. Any ideas?

Attack Critters

2007-12-03T15:14:00.000-08:00

I have lived in my house for 5 years and for 5 years I have insisted that we have critters living inside the living room/front porch wall. I hear them in there scratching and thumping around. I don't know what they are, but they're fairly large and they can get pretty rowdy when no one else is around.

My husband has never heard the noises and he insists I'm full of shit. He says, "Show me the hole, Rachel. There's no hole!" And when there is snow, he says, "Where are the foot prints? There's no footprints on the roof!"

We have even gone as far as to get the neighbors involved in this. We invite them over for little séances. "SSSHHHH!! Did you hear that?"

Blah blah blah---Rachel is crazy---blah blah blah, ha ha!

So, my husband is up on the roof Saturday hanging our Christmas lights. My daughter and I are on the side of the house hanging a garland. My husband says, "Hey, Rach…You're not crazy." I thank him for the vote of confidence, but insist that he elaborate. He tells me he found the hole. Apparently, it is the size of his fist.

As we contemplate what to do (Him: "Should we seal it?" Me: "If you seal the hole and there are critters in there, they'll die and stink!" Him: " Well, they won't stink forEVER!") As we are chattering, he looks into the hole and a squirrel jumps out, smacks into his forehead and almost literally flies across the room to the back of the house. All I can say now is that we're lucky he didn't fall off the roof. It scared him so bad, he dang near messed in his pants. My daughter and I laughed so hard, we dang near messed in our pants...and we didn't even see it happen (but we did see the red mark it left on his forehead)!

Where's the video camera when you need it?

Office Etiquette

2007-11-28T09:24:00.001-08:00

I was 22 when I got my first office job. All my work experience had been retail and bar and restaurant and I was completely unprepared for the office life. It was the only job I ever got fired from. I was told, “It’s just not working out.” And I agreed whole heartily, but that didn’t stop me from crying. I cried so hard, I got the hic-ups. But I shook hands and thanked them for giving me a chance.

It was the idea that “we are NOT created equal” that I got hung up on. For example, just because the VP of Operations and the Accounting Department get 2-hour lunches, doesn’t mean I (the receptionist) get 2-hour lunches. Sometimes I wish someone had pulled me aside and explained this to me. Twelve years later, I still struggle with this concept, but at least I know to keep my mouth shut.

There are examples of office etiquette that can be (and should be) taught. A young, fresh college grad might need to be reminded that cleavage is generally frowned upon in the professional office atmosphere. There is no place in the office for terms of endearment. This includes “Sweetie”, “Sunshine”, “Hun”, and even “Dude”.

And then there are things that should go without saying. I can NOT think of a single incident where it is appropriate to share the volume of your “flow” with a coworker. Never, ever, ever, ever, ever…NEVER! I don’t want to know how many feminine hygiene products you’ve gone through. I don’t want to know that your cycle is mixed up because you’re going through menopause. I’m totally grossed out knowing that you had a “blow-out”! SAVE IT, LADY!! Fact of life or not, that shit has NO place in the office. I don’t want to know about cramps, irritable bowel syndrome, incontinence, or yeast infections. In fact, if the source of your worries is in anyway associated with your crotch or your crack, save it for your diary.

Thank you.

Wrong Number

2007-11-27T10:32:00.000-08:00

The name of the company I work for gives people the impression that we offer advice on health issues. We don’t. At least, that’s not what our company does, but if you get me on the phone…

I had a guy call once to ask if it’s safe to eat canned food that had been frozen. My reply to him? “Why, that’s a good question…let’s see what we can find!” I Googled Green Giant and referred him to their hotline. The answer is no. Green Giant does not recommend eating canned food that has frozen (he didn’t store it in the freezer, rather in his garage and it got really REALLY cold that week).

Lots of people call to ask for physician referrals. One woman started the call by saying, “Please don’t laugh—this is not a prank call…” I knew right away it was going to be good. She was looking for a physician who performs colon cleansing. I referred her to the “holistic medicine” section of the yellow pages.

A sweet old lady called one day because she was worried about her neighbor. Her neighbor was an elderly woman trying to care for her adult son who suffered a serious brain injury. The caller was concerned that her neighbor was too poor and too old to be responsible for caring for another person and she wondered if there was someone who could help her neighbor. I gave this lady the phone number for the Colorado Medicaid office.

I had one woman walk into my office looking for help. Her grandchild was in Nevada and she was trying to get her daughter and the baby moved to Colorado and was having a really hard time with Medicaid. Apparently, the baby had serious health complications and was covered under Nevada Medicaid. She was told that if mother and child moved to Colorado, they’d loose coverage. The poor woman went from stark raving mad to bitter weeping back to raving mad. I felt terrible and there was nothing I could do…so I held her hand and sympathized best that I could.

The lady that called yesterday (prompting this post) was calling from Planned Parenthood. She JUST found out that her friend’s daughter was pregnant. The friend (suspecting that her daughter was having sex) kicked the 17-year-old out of the house. Caller took the girl into her home, but doesn’t want financial responsibility. She wanted the phone number for Medicaid and WIC. I don’t know WHO this woman thought she was calling, but I looked up the numbers for her.

I hope they all find what they need.

Hair

2007-11-26T11:38:00.001-08:00

I found another gray hair today. I have had one for several years. Just one. But then today, I found a second one and it’s flippin’ beautiful. I noticed it while I was washing my hands in the bathroom. I leaned forward a bit and kind of turned my head from side to side real slow, “Is that a gray hair?” I asked. I finished my hands and reached up to touch the hair. It’s a tad courser then the rest and it sparkles. It is almost beautiful enough to make me stop coloring my hair. My natural hair color is mouse brown and it always looks like it needs to be washed, so I lighten it to “medium golden blond”.

Speaking of hair…let me ask you this, why don’t we all just shave our heads and wear wigs? I’m serious. I have been really putting some thought into it and I’m going to start pricing wigs. My husband thinks it is the same as asking a dentist to pull all your teeth so you can get dentures. But he’s wrong. First of all, there is no pain involved in shaving your head. And the benefits of a wig, I think, far outweigh the benefits of false teeth. And the expense of false teeth…I imagine you could buy dozens of wigs for the cost of just pulling your old teeth, never mind how much it costs for the new ones!

So what do you say girls? Who's with me?

Remembering Thanksgiving

2007-11-19T11:57:00.000-08:00

Holy cow...has it been a whole week? (...yeah..a week and then some!) I must have dozed off or something.

Tis the week of turkey. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday...at least it was my favorite holiday when I was growing up. I feel that starting to fade some. When I lived in Carolina, spring was my favorite season. After living in Colorado for a few years, I emailed the family to report the latest snowstorm. We got 36 inches in 2 days one March. My eldest brother replied to me with a Carolina weather report. It was such a beautiful description, I closed my eyes and could see it, feel it and smell it. I wish I would have saved it. You can't beat spring in Carolina. S pring in Colorado equals snow. Really heavy, sloppy, wet, nasty-ass snow. YICK!

Being away from my family for so long is starting to change my impression of holidays, too. As much as I love my husband and my daughter, and any of our friends that we may end up sharing the day with, it just isn't the same as Carolina.

We moved from Texas back to Carolina in 1980. The first year or two that we lived there, my parents invited Virginia Clemmer to our home for Thanksgiving dinner. Ms. Clemmer was an elderly woman who lived alone. She was in relatively poor health, she didn't have much money, and what money she did have, she gave away. Her home was pretty run down, she didn't have any family, and she was the sweetest woman in the world. The next year, she told my folks that she had a couple friends who didn't have any where to go, and would we mind having them, too. As the years passed, the guest list got bigger. Eventually, we moved into the church's school cafeteria, then into the church's multi-purpose room.

The last time I participated in this dinner was 1993. We served more than 200 people. The entire community got involved. We had dozens and dozens of volunteers. Some came early to set up tables and chairs, to cook, and serve. Some drove all over the city to pick up elderly and bring them to the church. Lots of people donated food, and still others came when the party was over and helped wash dishes. We served dozens of turkeys and hams. There were more casseroles and pies than you could count.

And the company was fantastic. There is so much to learn from senior citizens. But they weren't all old or lonely. Lots of families joined us for the day, too. We'd gather for 3 or 4 hours, then pack to-go boxes for everyone and drive them home again.

These people were SO grateful. They hugged us and thanked us profusely, tearing up as they told us how much they looked forward to our party every year.

It was empowering to me. To know that I could have so much impact on another person's life. It was such a learning experience for me. I learned how to communicate with adults. I got to see how adults communicated with each other. I learned what can be accomplished when we all work together.

I've been in Colorado since 1994 and I haven't participated in anything that even comes close to those dinners in Carolina. It makes me sad. I feel the holiday loosing meaning, and that scares me. This memory is part of who I am and I can't loose it.

I took my first step this year by donating a turkey dinner to the local food bank. I took my daughter with me to the store to purchase everything you need for a fabulous feast (we even threw in some cinnamon rolls for breakfast). We boxed it all up and delivered it to the food bank on Sunday. It was pretty cool. Next year we'll do it again. And when my daughter is a little older, we'll go serve food at a homeless shelter. Until then, I'm going to keep telling my story in hopes that it will stay alive in my heart.

So what's your greatest Thanksgiving memory?

ps. I shared this memory with my mother one day and she chucked and said, "Well, it didn't happen exactly like THAT." Which leads me to believe that Virgina Clemmer played a much greater role in this story than I gave her credit for. I can say this, I attribute the idea to her. I don't believe this incredible dinner would have ever happened had it not been for Ms. Clemmer. And 17 years later, that Thanksgiving dinner is still being hosted.

Good and Evil

2007-11-09T12:32:00.000-08:00

I was raised the seventh of eleven children--five boys and six girls. The age span between the oldest and the youngest is 16 years, so we pretty much all grew up in the same house (the oldest moved out when I was 8 or 9, I think). When you live with that many people, you learn compromise and diplomacy at an early age. We bickered and fought and poked and teased, but more than that, we loved and respected.

I moved to Colorado in 1994 at the ripe age of 21. The first three years I lived here, I tended bar at a neighborhood pub. The same people came in every day, sat in the same seat, drank the same drink…day after day after day. They were mostly in their mid 30s to mid 50s and they took a liking to me instantly (of course). Even more than their relentless teasing about my southern accent, they laughed at my naivety.

I insisted on seeing the world as a happy place. I assumed all people had the best intentions at heart. I remember one conversation in particular with Rock-n-Roll Steve.

Side note: there was more than one Steve, so we had to nick name them to keep them apart—sometimes we used physical characteristics as with Big Tom and Little Tom, and sometimes it was beverage choice as with Bud Light Bob. Rock-n-Roll Steve wore a mullet. I worked there for three years and to this day, I couldn’t tell you the last name of a single patron.

Steve said, “One day you’ll see the world for what it really is.” My reply to him was something along the lines of, “I hope not…that would be sad.”

Fast forward to 2007. My good friend was bitterly disappointed by her mother this week and she wrote about it on her blog today. The 21-year-old me doesn’t comprehend this kind of behavior because the world I grew up in was so different. I’m shocked and saddened by her story. But then I read the words of support written to her by virtual strangers. These women have extended sympathy, love, and encouragement to someone they most likely have never met.

So where ever you are, Rock-and-Roll Steve, I am seeing the world for what it really is. For every natural disaster, there is hundreds, thousands, millions of dollars donated in support. There are homeless people sleeping under bridges, wrapped in wool hats and scarves, hand knit especially for them by strangers. There are volunteers in hospitals playing games with sick children so mom and dad can take a break. And a couple weeks ago, outside of the grocery store I saw a mother with her elementary-school-age child collecting canned foods for the food bank. They stood next to cases of donated food.

The world is good, Steve...the world is good.

Name Dropping

2007-11-07T09:12:00.000-08:00

I'm new to all this blogger stuff. My girlfriend, Ruth at 5elementknitr introduced me to it all and has been kind enough to show me around. I started reading Uberstrickenfrau after she dropped a few lines on my blog. I really enjoy reading her blog and added her to my favorites.

I was there yesterday, reading the sidebar and stumbled upon a gem of a quote. It was so beautiful that read it three times:

“If we are lucky, a few times in our lives, the wall of our mental house falls down-or explodes outward- and we get to step over the broken rubble and walk this entirely new landscape of mountains and possibility and giant sky and new pathways full of knowledge and our own potential to grow, change and eventually, contribute something. There is possibility. And ponies. And the world expands." Enchanting Juno

I Googled it to learn more and was delighted when my inquiry lead me to yet another blog!

All three of these women are fantastic writers and their blogs are as thought-provoking as they are entertaining. I invite you all to visit them regularly.

Me, self-righteous?

2007-11-06T14:57:00.000-08:00

I believe that “self-righteous” is one of the ugliest human traits. When I think of a person that is “self-righteous”, I think of a person who believes that his/her way of doing something is certainly the best—if not the only—way of doing it. This person is smug and intolerant. I don’t ever want anyone to think me “self-righteous”.

The problem is that I am self-righteous. My way is SO many times the best—if not the only—way to do it. I know what is best and I DON’T like people telling me I’m wrong.

If you’ve heard it once, you’ve heard it a million times, “The first step to getting help is admitting you have a problem.” I know that I have self-righteous tendencies. And I know that this is not something I want people to think about me, so I must suppress these tendencies.

Because I also believe that (to an extent) what other people say and do is not a reflection on me, regardless of my relations to that person, I find myself in constant conflict.

Yesterday, my daughter chose to wear clothes that didn’t match to school. I gently suggested that she change her clothes. I said that although her shirt was as beautiful as her pants, they didn’t look beautiful beside each other. She defended her choice by pointing out that the pants had many of the same colors as her shirt. These clothes didn’t just “not match”, they clashed SO badly, that I couldn’t even tell her what was wrong (just LOOK at it, for crying out loud!). So I let her wear them.

I spent the majority of the day reminding myself that this does not mean that I’m a bad mother, only that my daughter has a unique sense of fashion.

She told me later that night that I was wrong. No one had laughed at her, as I suggested they might.

Okay, fine, no one laughed at her…but it still would have looked better with the solid shirt.

Clean the Clutter!

2007-11-02T09:46:00.000-07:00

I walk a fine line between cozy and clutter. I don’t notice it as much in the summer because all my windows and doors are open--my house feel bigger. When it gets cold, I get claustrophobic. I start noticing how much crap I have in my house. It’s the papers that make me crazy. I “need” to save them, but I don’t have anywhere to put them. Where should I keep the student handbook? Or the FYI booklet for Brownie Scouts? What about the recipe I ripped out of the news paper or the crochet pattern I printed off line? I keep it in neat little piles and I move those piles all around the house until I get fed up and I throw them all away.

A couple years ago I labeled a three-ring binder “Suppa Time Favorites” and filled it with tabs for “appetizers”, “soup”, “beef”, “chicken”, “pork”, “sides”, “desserts”, and “holiday themes”. This way, every time I find a recipe on line or in a magazine, I can print or copy it and file in my binder! It’s bloody brilliant—so brilliant, that I developed a similar binder for crochet patterns.

You know that line about the road to hell being paved with good intentions? Guess how many recipes I have in my binder? Three. Only three. And the crochet binder—well, it’s only a week old, but I only have one pattern in it. Now guess how many recipes and crochet patterns I have floating around my house? Then again--don't. We don't want to know.

This weekend, I pledge to Clean the Clutter. I am going to find it a home, or throw it out, so help me God help me.

Happy Halloween!

2007-10-31T08:59:00.000-07:00

Dead leaves, seaweed, rotten eggs too.
Stir them in my witches brew.
I've got magic alakazoo.
Oooh, my witch's brew
Ooh what's it going to do to you?

.... BOO!

I'm a witch today. A witch with purple hair.

Happy haunting!

Spread Love

2007-10-30T13:18:00.000-07:00

I am often surprised at how defensive and angry I get when dealing with doctors' offices. I just took a call from a man who says, “I just received a ‘second request’ (he emphasized this heavily because the subject line of the letter he is referring to says, “second request” in bold font) for a…(blah blah blah)…and I assure you it is not.”

In an instant, my blood pressure sky rockets and the hairs on my arms and neck stand up. I think to myself:

Like hell you say, old man, I sent you THREE request! Tell me I didn’t send it…I mailed it to (blah blah blah) on September 6, then I called your office and spoke to blah blah blah. Then I faxed it to blah. After another 15 days, I STILL didn’t have it so I mailed it AGAIN. And you have the balls to call me and tell me I didn’t do it. That’s all I’ve done for 2 months! I mailed 376 requests, then sorted through and researched dozens of returned letters. I’ve spent the better part of the last 3 weeks listening to you tell me, “If this is a life threatening emergency, please hang up and dial NINE ONE ONE.” I’ve been put on eternal hold and I’ve had it up to here with your stupid-ass Musak recordings.

But you know what? The world is full of angry people because anger is contagious, so I make a special point to say NO to anger and instead, spread love. Instead of biting off this man’s head, I simply replied, “What can we do to make this better?”

This happy ending is brought to you by the makers of Lexipro (anti-depressant medication).

The Girl Scout Promise

2007-10-29T09:02:00.000-07:00

On my honor, I will try:
To serve God and my country,
To help people at all times,
And to live by the Girl Scout Law.

I signed my daughter up for Brownie Scouts. She needs to memorize the Girl Scout Promise and the Girl Scout Law. The Promise is only 4 lines, so we started working on it yesterday.

I read the entire promise to her, then asked that she repeat after me. “On my honor, I will try”. We recited that line a few times, then added “To serve God and my country”. Over and over—about a dozen times. Next comes “To help people at all times,”

My daughter (MD): “But what if they’re mean boys?”
Me: Just say the line.
MD: But I don’t want to help the mean boys.
Me: Okay—so you don’t have so help the mean boys, but you have to say the line.
MD: But the lines says ALL people.
Me: No it doesn’t. It says, all TIMES.
MD: Even when they’re mean?
Me: That’s enough for today. We’ll work on this again tomorrow.

I never imagined that my 6-year-old would take a conscientious objection to the Girl Scout Promise. Mean boys ruin everything!

Appliance Update

2007-10-25T13:14:00.000-07:00

Yesterday afternoon was rather hectic. My daughter has religious education (RE) class on Wednesdays from 6 until 7:15, so we go straight from daycare to RE (I give her a snack to eat in the car). After I dropped her off, I swung by the house to pick up the credit card so I could go purchase the appliances before I had to be back to the church to pick my daughter up.

I think I told you earlier that Mark agreed to all three purchases. And dispite the fact the Home Depot guy swears that dishwasher installation is a two-beer job, my husband would rather pay Home Depot $50 to install it.

So I race from the church to the house to grab the credit card. I have one hour. As an afterthought I say, "Give me the tape measure, how big is that space?" Ugh...my choice chiller is two inches too tall. I just stood there with the saddest look of defeat on my face. That, my friends, jacked up everything.

The same man that less than 24 hours before refused to do the two-beer, three-connection dishwasher installation has offered to demo the kitchen cupboards to make room for the new refrigerator (can any man say no to a demolition job?).

So, do I go with the 18 cubic-foot refrigerator, or do I let Mark demo the kitchen cupboards to make room for the 22 cubic-foot refrigerator?

Every woman's life should be this hard.

How embarrassing…

2007-10-24T09:14:00.000-07:00

I had a rather embarrassing moment yesterday. I say moment, but I’m pretty sure this “incident” is going to stick with me for a few years.

I’m at my girlfriend’s house and I sit down on one of the kid chairs at the kitchen table. (No, the chair didn’t break.) As soon as my ass touched the chair, I stood straight up and said, “Woah.” My girlfriend comments that, yeah, the chairs are small. I say, “no, it’s wet.” I grab a napkin off the table, wipe the chair and sit again. More wet. So I reach my hand around and touch my bare ass. Wait a minute---BARE ASS! OH MY GOD, I just grabbed my BARE ASS! My day flashes before my eyes like a near death experience. I see myself volunteering with the vision testing at my daughter’s school, parading around the 5-10 year olds with my ass hanging out. Oh, it gets better! Next, I’m at Home flippin’ Depot flashing my ass all over the appliance department. But I don’t stop there—it’s on to Best Buy before I return to my daughter’s school. I paraded around town for 4 and a half HOURS with my bare ass peeking through a three-inch-long rip in my jeans.

Okay, so this brings us forward to my rather reluctant admission that I am no stranger to ripped britches. In fact, I’ve lost three pairs in almost as many months (yesterday was number 4). I want to believe that it’s not my fault, but four pairs is more than coincidence. You’ll have to take my word that I’m not that big. I wear a size 10. But then maybe THAT’s the problem. You reckon I oughta shoot for size 12?

The good news out of this is that, so far, none of the parents have pressed charges against me (at least not that I know of) AND I get new jeans. And did you catch that I was at Home Depot? I picked out a sexy new kitchen trio. After I shared my horror with my husband, I whipped out a folder full of fliers covered with my notes. I researched online and picked out what I wanted, then went to the first store to confirm my wishes. Finally, I went to a second store to compare prices. He approved all my choices (he doesn't give a shit, but $2K is a LOT of money and he wants to know that I made educated decisions). Tonight, I get the credit card, and since today is the first game of the World Series, I will be going alone to purchase the appliances—and a new set of stainless steal cookware. Why not?

Bitter Sweet

2007-10-23T07:25:00.000-07:00

I complained a few days ago that my refrigerator is on the skids. I’m doing the best I can to jerry rig the damn thing into submission. We’ve adjusted the shelves and rearranged the food and are just taking it all with a grain of salt. At least we have one, right?

I didn’t mention my dishwasher. My husband replaced the floors in our kitchen this summer and noticed that our dishwasher was leaking. The floor under the dishwasher was rotted. He replaced the floor and stuck the lid from a tub of ice cream under the dishwasher to catch the water. We have to empty the lid every couple of washes.

Last night we had chicken enchiladas for dinner. My recipe requires that I cook all the food in a skillet, assemble it, then stick it in the oven to melt the cheese. After 30 minutes of preheating, it was only 250 degrees. The damn thing broke! My oven BROKE! I just used the damn thing 12 hours earlier to bake the egg dish for the teachers. The stupid coil thing in the bottom of the oven literally broke in half. I don't know why I'm surprised. The oven is 20 years old.

As exciting as this moment should be, I have lump in my gut. Every time we get to a point where we have some extra cash to start socking away for vacation, some stupid shit goes wrong and we’re back where we started. Son-of-a-bitch, will you give a girl a break?!?!

Maybe a batch of brownies in my new range will make me feel better—with a glass of cold (but not frozen) milk out of my new refrigerator. If that doesn’t work, I’ll load all the dirty dishes into the new dishwasher and go buy some yarn.

Pajama Day

2007-10-21T16:12:00.000-07:00

The weather forecasters started telling us on Wednesday that Sunday would be yucky--cold and wet. Much to my daughter's delight, I declared Sunday would be our first pajama day of the season. We busted butt on Saturday to get all of our chores done so come Sunday, we could stay in our pajamas all day long. Like icing on the cake, we woke to a few inches of snow. It was beautiful.

After a hearty breakfast of sausage gravy and biscuits, Morgan and I ventured outside long enough to shake the snow off our trees. Meanwhile, Daddy stoked a honkin' fire and we drank hot chocolate and watched ET. It's been so long since I've seen that movie, it was like watching it for the first time.

We played a few rounds of Trouble, Candy Land, Connect Four, and Go Fish. The rest of the day was spent crocheting, reading, and napping.

Ahhh--life is good.

Yea Me!

2007-10-19T12:12:00.000-07:00

After 15 years as a pack-a-day smoker, one year ago today, I smoked my last cigarette. I had been talking about quitting for more than a year and all my reasons were obvious: unhealthy, stinks, expensive, bad role model for my little girl, blah blah blah. I quit cold turkey and it SUCKED ASS! But I did it. And I’m stronger and healthier because of it.

I can’t believe I have gone an entire YEAR without a smoke. Damn almighty, I’m proud!

To Work or Not To Work

2007-10-18T09:26:00.000-07:00

They were playing some silly game on the radio the other morning. The question was something about how many people said they spend more than 92% of their work day actually working. One lady answered 85% and the other lady answered 60%. The host says, “Are you sure you understand the question? How many people think they spend almost 100% of their day doing work-related work?” Both contestants stuck with their answers. They were both wrong. The answer was TWO percent.

I work a standard 40-hour work week (8 to 5 M-F). On a normal work day, I wake at 5:30, shower, then go down stairs and pack lunches, put dinner in the crock pot, clean the kitchen, and/or whatever else I can get done in 15 minutes. I drink a cup of coffee while I watch the weather and then go back upstairs to wake my daughter at 6:15. She crawls into bed with daddy and watches cartoons while I get dressed and made-up. We turn off the TV at 6:45, she potties, gets dressed, brushes teeth and hair while I make beds. God willing, we’re out the door by 7:15. I’m usually home by 6, but then I have to cook dinner, clean kitchen, supervise homework, bathe the child, and it’s bedtime. I’m lucky if I get my daughter to bed by 9.

So, yeah, I dink around at work. I’ve been here for 2 hours today and have checked my email, placed three online orders, called my recycling company to straighten out an invoice error, and I glued my shoes back together. (One shoe is in under my desk with binder clips holding it together until it dries.) Meanwhile, I’m typing my blog entry for the day.

Now, let me ask you this? Am I cheating the company I work for?

Moments that shine

2007-10-15T13:33:00.000-07:00

I was driving down this tree-lined road the other day. The trees were large enough that they reach over the road, giving it the appearance of a tunnel. As the sun filtered through the umbrella of reds, golds, oranges, greens, and purples, it cast a psychedelic glow that you could feel. It was so beautiful, so surreal, I wanted to swim in it. The air felt so clean. I forced my lungs to capacity and more—until they burned. I wanted to consume it all. I wanted it inside of me forever.

Dinner (almost) disaster

2007-10-12T12:25:00.000-07:00

My refrigerator is jacked up. The top shelf freezes and the bottom shelf rots. It took me a while to recognize that my refrigerator was (is) the problem. I kept taking food back to the store. I let THEM throw it away—don’t need that crap stinking up my garage! After the third week in a row that I returned meat, I told my husband, “NO one buys rotten meat this often—it’s gotta be our problem.” So we placed thermometers in the refrigerator. Top read 40 and the bottom read 53 (can’t believe I just admitted that). YIKES!

So every day I adjust the temperate just a little bit cooler. I thought we were in good shape until yesterday morning. I pulled the chicken to put in the crock pot and it was rotten. DAG NABBIT!! (I assure you that the real-life version was much more colorful than “dag nabbit”.)

I’m one of 11 children. I was 9 or 10 when my mother taught me how to cook—for 13 people at a time. I learned to plan the menu, make the grocery list, and prepare the food so that everything is done at the same time. And now, 22 years later, I sit down on Saturday or Sunday morning and make a list of 6 meals (meat, veggie, starch). Then I make a list of all the ingredients I need to make those meals. My lists are organized in the order they are found in the grocery store. I tape my menu to the refrigerator and everyone knows what we’re having for dinner every night…and whatever we eat for dinner tonight is what you get for lunch tomorrow.

The point is that rotten chicken at 6 a.m. on Thursday morning jacks my day. I’ve had this meal planned since Saturday…and now it’s rotten. The bad news is that I can’t plan meals at 6 a.m. The good news is that, I don’t have to. I always have hot dogs and mac-n-cheese on hand.

We had mummy dogs with mac-n-cheese and apple sauce—but you have to say it real spooky, like “muh-uh-uh-uh-uh meeeee dogs”. I took pizza dough (Friday night’s dinner) and cut it into strips, then wrapped each hot dog and baked at 350 for 15 minutes. Well, every time I said “mummy dogs”, I said it all spooky like. By the end of the night, my daughter (6 years old) says, “Mom, will you please stop doing that. You’re giving me a headache.”

Some day she’ll appreciate me.

Peace

2007-10-11T12:04:00.000-07:00

I'm reading a book called, A Long Way Gone, Memoirs of a Child Soldier. A 12-year-old boy goes with his 16-year-old brother to a neighboring village for the day. While the boys are away, their village is attacked by rebels. Long story short, the 12-year-old ends up enlisted in the “army” to fight the rebels. He eventually makes it out and is rehabilitated.

It is a painful story. My heart hurts when I think of these people whose lives are turned upside down by war. How do you recover from something like that? This 12-year-old child looses his mother, father, and brothers. He is handed a gun and a mountain of drugs and is told, “These are the people who killed your family, you must take revenge!” These children shake with fear when handed weapons, then within 6 months are making games and contests out of how many people they can kill. He is only TWELVE! These are children!

I hope this story will help me learn to better appreciate a hot shower, a cold glass of clean water, a soft bed in a warm house, and that I am able to walk my daughter to school in the morning without fear of attack.

We must practice and teach peace and tolerance. Our lives will be richer and we will be happier.

Pinkie promise.

Welcome

2007-10-09T12:50:00.000-07:00

Hi, I'm Rachel.

My girlfriend, 5elementknitr, has referred to me as, "bloggless Rachel" for the last time. I did it...I'm an official member of the blogging community. "What took you so long?" you ask. Well, I often thought, "if you blog, you can't run for public office...ever." At least I couldn't (well, NOW I can't). But I can't let that stop me from an occasional brain dump. This head o' mine fills WAY too quickly for me to keep it all inside.

I am married to one of the greatest unsung heros of all time. I tend to rag on my husband more than what is fair. He's a hell of a guy and I love him with all my heart. We have a daughter that keeps us entertained. She's 6.

I reckon that's all I'm going to say for now. Moving forward, I hope to entertain you with my senseless ramblings and maybe provide you with food for thought...points to ponder if you will. I'm new at this, so bare with me.

...and thanks for stoppin' by! Ya'll come back now, ya hear?