Officially Technological

Props for My Boy, Josh

2009-06-19T08:57:00.002-04:00

This is an article written about the children's garden my cousin, Josh, manages. I am insanely proud of his accomplishments, and I especially like the bit about being "slightly grubby and obscenely cheerful."

Bravo, Josh!

Maggie Apologizes, Brian Forgives

2009-05-21T12:40:00.003-04:00

Maggie has been blue lately. In the classic reap what you sew scenario, Maggie made a poor decision when she chose to chew up a blue pen on our new lightly colored carpet. Maggie's poor choice has had a ripple effect since our home owner's insurance doesn't cover dog damage with pen (though ironically they cover dog damage with red wine - can you believe it's so specific??), and since we literally couldn't get it out with anything less than slightly diluted bleach. So, we now have a very stern, white spot, in our very soft, creamy carpet.

Brian immediately put Maggie for sale on Facebook and even had some inquiries. I, of course, protected the poor dear. Could she have possibly guessed that this tubular toy-looking thing would squirt permanent blue all over the carpet when gnawed? I reasoned. Brian took Maggie off the market. But no words of forgiveness and/or apology had been uttered between the two in the passing weeks.

It was surprising then, when Brian and I got home last night to see that Maggie had gotten in the trash and had pulled out a couple of empty envelopes. We assumed she must have wanted to conduct a little business. So, Brian told her that if she wanted to write a letter, all she needs to do is ask for an envelope. The ones from the trash aren't very nice any more anyway. She acted very sad, and meek, and it turned out that she wanted to write a letter to the president of the United States. When she was questioned about what business she had with said diplomat, she said that she wanted to write a letter of pardon. She wanted to be pardoned for the heinous crime of staining the carpet with blue ink and she wanted to be restored to her former title of "Good Girl".

You can imagine that Brian was quite heartbroken with her apology, so he hugged her and told her she didn't need to be pardoned by the president because he had forgiven her and that she could go on and be free. So Maggie and Brian are reconciled. All is right again (except, of course, the carpet).

Eating Local

2009-04-20T09:16:00.002-04:00

So, with eating local foods being a new fad, Brian and I decided to get on the band wagon. We decided to only eat food from Georgetown Square. So, we will be eating a lot at Ziffles Rib Bar, quite a bit at Peking, once and a while at Munchies, and in a pinch, Subway. I'm not exactly sure what "eating local" means, but I think Brian and I have cut to the heart of it.

In other news:

Mags is enrolled in school (we're so proud - I told her I'd get her a new "My Little Pony" lunchbox for the occassion because she's really nervous about it).
I'm almost done student teaching for the semester, and I am done with one of the craziest classes I've taken in my life.
We watched "Seven Pounds" last night. It made me quite sentimental.
I marked a quilt to quilt, and the new pen I had spent 5 bucks on is a "vanishing" pen, instead of a water soluable pen and so all my marking wore off. I was... pretty tight.
We're finally going to replace the carpet in Sam's room and the blue room upstairs (for those of you who have never been to our house, the "blue room" is very apropriately named. It is the brightest Superman blue you can imagine). We think we may use bamboo to give it a little something fun.
I slipped down the stairs this morning (Brian said I "galloped" but I don't think I know how to gallop) and now my knee and ankle hurts. Bummer.
I finished reading one of those Amish books. It was good. I'm always so caught up in the verbage. Like "jah" instead of "yeah" or "dat" instead of "dad". I don't know many Amish people (which seems weird because there's about a zillion who live very close to us), but I wonder if they really use those words.
"Spring" is starting to tick me off. This isn't spring, it's winter with more birds. >:( Kinda annoyed that I can't wear flip-flops today (in case you couldn't tell)

Happy Monday!

Nothing to Report

2009-03-01T20:35:00.003-05:00

I'm starting a new quilting project. Don't ask why. As if I'm not busy enough. But I know that Spring Break is coming up, and we're going down to see Beth and Ben, so I thought I should have a project to be working on for the 7 hour car ride.

I also got a new Zune. I accidentally broke the wheel on my last one and Brian found out that if you order them directly from Zune they'll engrave stuff on the back. So, he had mine engraved. I've been learning that I need to have two shots at each electronic thing I get. I had to exchange my computer once, now my Zune.... and I think those are the only two electronics I've ever owned. lol!

Maggie is doing pretty good. She's been really good about being left out while we're gone. She mostly just sleeps on the loveseat in the living room (which she's not allowed on when we're home, but it seems like a bearable evil compared to having accidents and getting into the trash). She sleeps in our room now, on the floor. She likes that. I think she'd be scared to sleep in Sam's room all by her lonesome. How's it going with my grief? Well, I think I'm OK. I washed some of his towels yesterday. :( I still haven't had the heart to clean out his kennel and collapse his cage and put it in the garage. I'm hoping Brian will do it. :) I've been thinking I'd like a new Sam, but I know there's never been a dog quite like him. That's why I want to get a dog from his lineage. :) Brian said he's done with Jack-Rats. But they really are very, very cute. I mean, look at this stinker!... LOL! Who could resist??

Moving On

2009-02-11T08:52:00.003-05:00

Not really, I just thought that sounded better than "Not Moving On". I'm still really bummed about Sam, but at least I can look at his kennel without bursting into tears, and Brian gave me a book that he made of pictures we had of Sam. That was really sweet. So, I am doing a little better, but still sad about that.

OK so in other news, my student teaching is getting totally out of control. I'm so frustrated. I think that's all I work on, think about, dream about etc. etc. I think it's driving me nuts. I think part of the problem is that I only have one class, so there's nothing by which to compare them. Am I effective? Don't know. Compared to what? Am I fun? Don't know. Compared to what? Have I made positive relationships? Don't know. Compared to what? Have I taught any math at all?... You get the drift. It seemed like when I had several classes throughout the day I didn't have this particular problem, because a bad day with one class was a good day with another. Ugh. Then, I am being observed literally the rest of this week, which is a lot of pressure and hours and hours of lesson planning (every time you're observed, you have to put your lesson plans in the official lesson plan template). Today and tomorrow, I'm being observed by my cooperating teacher, and Friday I'm being observed by my university supervisor. So, I'm a little stressed out. I also sent mid-terms yesterday, so now I have residual paperwork that accompanies those. Yikes.

Anyway, I would love to teach non-freshmen some time and see how it is with other classes. Better? Worse? The same? It would be fun to be a fly on other people's walls. Just so I'd have something to measure by. Although teaching is not really the type of field where comparing serves you well, it would just be nice to know that others are in the same boat as me.

Well, enough ranting. I promise to try to be much more cheerful the next time I post. Until then... :)

The Streets Are Paved With Bacon

2009-02-05T09:50:00.005-05:00

Sam and a "hat". It's actually a rubber ball that he chewed until it was half gone.

Sammers sleeping in the sun on the back of our Transformations chair

Sam and his fifty pound minion, Maggie

We had to put Sam to sleep this morning. It was really peaceful and the vet said we did the right thing by him. He had what the vet called a non-regenerative anemia. Basically, his body was no longer producing red blood cells. What happened was, he was bleeding someplace (the vet thought partially through his tumors, but also someplace internally), and his body stopped replacing his red blood cells. So, we had to say good-bye. It was terrible. My eyes are so swollen I can hardly see. But, regardless of how I feel, Sam is God's creature and now he's in God's place. I'm sure where Sam is, the streets are paved with bacon, and fenced with rawhides. And I'm willing to bet there's lots of places for adventures. Because a dog like Sam would like a good adventure. Preferably one that ends in a wild chase where his ears lay flat back against his little head to give him better aerodynamics (I'm sure he's thought that through). Yup, that's where Sam is. So, in loving memory of Sam, I'm going to end this post with a few Sammisms that I'm going to miss (some maybe more than others - lol).

Sammism #1: Howling at the sound of sirens (he will still practicing this the other night, so no matter how little energy he had, he could still muster up enough to howl at sirens).

Sammism #2: Sitting on everyone's lap (Sam knew no strangers. I really admired that about him. He was the most social creature I had ever met).

Sammism #3: Being bossy (let's just say... Sam typically got what Sam wanted)

Sammism #4: Sunbathing (Sam was known to sleep for hours out in the hot summer sun, belly up)

Sammism #5: Getting the squeakers out (even until he started getting really sick, Sam was ferocious and did NOT put up with squeaking toys. He could tear the squeaker out of a toy in 30 seconds flat - no joke)

Sammism #6: Out-smarting us (I mean, he was a Jack Russel after all, of COURSE he can out-smart several humans at a time)

Sammism #7: Out-smarting his Kong (somehow Sam learned that if he licked all the gooey stuff out of his Kong, he could put it on a hard surface, spin it, and use centrifugal force to get all the hard treats to come flying out)

Sammism #8: Two things Sam hated, squeakers and being cold (Sam would wrap himself up like a mummy in his blankets until he nearly died of heat exhaustion, he especially like fur blankets)

Sammism #9: He liked music (sometimes I would play the piano or put on opera music and Sam would lay there completely mesmerized)

Sammism #10: He was sweet (every time I was going through something, he curl up in a ball and snuggle with me)

Good night, Sam. Eat lots of bacon. I'll see you later.

Sammers

2009-01-27T11:02:00.000-05:00

Well, the dreaded day is coming. As probably all of you know, Sam has a couple of growths on his tummy that look like (for the lack of better comparison) huge blood blisters. Well, this weekend, his growths started bleeding. A lot. Not a great combination with the new carpet. So, we keep him bandaged up (which he's pretty good about), but it's still kind of a bummer because we have to take off his bandages to let him go potty, etc. etc. So, kinda a nightmare. So, yesterday we took him to the vet and found out how much it would cost to get the spots removed. Not only is a chunk of change, but the vet isn't sure if he is well enough survive a surgery. She said his gums are really pale and that concerned her a lot, and he's lost a pound since his last vet visit (for a Jack Russel that's a bit). So, she's worried that he isn't really up for a surgery. What she doesn't know is that this is Sam. He's a free spirit. He doesn't let little things like age get in the way of his spirit. :) But anyway, she said if his spots are melanoma, they would metastasize to his lungs first. She listened to his lungs and she said they were great but they were decent. So, that was hopeful. She said the same for his heart. So, it sounds like Sammy has aged quite a bit in the last year and a half (since he's been to the vet last). And he will likely not be around forever (believe it or not, when you have a dog like Sam, you do kinda get it stuck in your head that he's immortal). So, you can pray for Sam (if you like) that we can make him comfortable, and that we will have a better idea of what to do with his surgery. But most importantly that we can make him comfortable, because he's given us... well, a lot of laughs for one. So, we really want him to be able to enjoy the rest of his life.

In brighter news: He got a peticure while at the vet. His nails look splendid. I think he's really happy with them. LOL

We're Yuppies???

2009-01-05T18:06:00.004-05:00

OK, so we broke down and got a new car. Brian's car has been leaking oil :( and we found this ridiculously awesome deal on a 2001 Volvo S60. We honestly couldn't pass it up. We would have been crazy to not get it with Brian's car on its last banana peal. The guy we bought it from and his wife had 3 vehicles and no kids old enough to drive, and since they were from Michigan (a no-fault insurance state), they decided to get rid of the car with the highest insurance. Good for us. Indiana is NOT a no-fault state.

Brian and I have had some trouble finding a new car because we have very different car philosophies. My car philosophy is that it should 1) start every time, 2) have a good heater. I have a few things that I LIKE to see in a car, but don't need, for example, I prefer a car to get good gas mileage, and if I had to choose between two cars of equal price, one of which is hideous, and the other of which is cool, I would probably choose the cool one. Lastly, I like cars to be practical. I like them to have things like big trunks, and fold-down seats, but none of these things are necessary.

Brian's car philosophy (as I see it), is that cars should be an extension of the owner's personality. For an example, a fun-loving, cheerful, college student would probably like a VW Bug. A car is like an accessory to him (a very expensive accessory). Since we were replacing his car, he wanted something decent looking, preferably with fun options (like heated seats etc), and the mechanics aren't very important since he likes to tinker with cars anyway.

So, when meshing "practical" for me, and "fun" for Brian, the Volvo name kept popping up. So, that's what we got. Unfortunately, one of our friends told us that now that we got a Volvo we're yuppies. That took some of the fun out of it for me, since "practical" and "yuppy" should not describe the same car. LOL! But I've gotten over it, because it was really a very practical purchase.

Here's a pic...

News Items

2008-11-24T18:00:00.003-05:00

I am a new aunt again. My niece, Josie, was born this past weekend. Everyone's happy and healthy and Josie is super cute
Brian's 30. He's not too happy about it but we threw him a surprise birthday party and he liked that
Brian got Mariokart for his birthday (for the Wii)
Both Brian and I have this disgusting cough that won't go away. I had to call off of work today, but I think I'll try for tomorrow.
I'm done with Indiana Wesleyan classes until January (yessss!). They were killing me.

"Marley and Me"

2008-11-08T22:40:00.002-05:00

So Brian and I saw a preview for a movie called "Marley and Me" and it's about a couple who get a puppy and the puppy is totally crazy. Well, I think someone came and stole our puppy from our house while we were on vacation, because the dog in that movie looks EXACTLY like Maggie. And the dog in the movie ACTS exactly like Maggie. If it's not Maggie, it's her clone. Anyway, I have a sneaking suspicion that the dog in the movie dies, and I'm not big on dog-dying stories, but I think I'm going to have to watch it anyway.

One of the most embarrassing/traumatic experiences of my entire life was when we read "Where the Red Fern Grows" in school. It was the sixth grade. I've always been a little hyper-sensitive to the suffering of dogs (people too), so I knew that this had the potential of being a very humiliating afternoon at school where I could potentially burst into tears every time I thought about the book (I have enough tears to pull it off, anyway). So my mom had this idea that maybe I could de-sensitive myself to it by reading it at home first. That way when I got to school, I would already knew what happened and it wouldn't be so traumatic. In theory it was a brilliant idea. And it seemed to be working. I read the part where the dogs died at home several times, burst into tears every time, and eventually I started thinking that it would be possible to make it through that passage without making a total dork of myself at school. But alas, it didn't quite work out. Turns out that with all my reading, I knew exactly what would happen and when, and just the thought of it made me tear up and it was all down hill from there. However, the crowning achievement of dorkhood was obtained when I cried again during the movie after I unsuccessfully tried to convince my teacher that I shouldn't watch it. I even remember pretending to be sick that morning, but I think my mom was pretty smart and realized I just didn't want to go to school. I probably should have pretended to be sick at school so that I could go down to the office and lay peacefully on the little cot and wait for my mom to pick me up, but I didn't think of that in time.

Needless to say, all you have to do is say the words, "where the red fern grows," and I'll tear up. All those dog dying stories... I'm just not a fan. People keep telling that I need to watch "My Dog Skip" because he's a Jack Russel and behaves like Sam, but I know Skip dies at the end, and I'm just not ever sure I'm up for it. People keep telling me that it's different in "My Dog Skip" because Skip had lived a long time and had a great life and dies a happy dog. And I see their point, I really do. But it's still brutal to watch. So, I think I'll try to watch "Marley and Me," and we'll go from there. Brian's not too excited about watching it with me and he's probably hoping we can watch it alone so he won't have to explain that I have a hard time with dog dying movies to anyone else. I'll let you know how it goes. It'll be a while before we can watch it, but I'll keep you posted.

On Being a Grown-up in High School

2008-10-20T17:57:00.003-04:00

Ways that I have found that I'm like a 14-year-old Freshman

I text my friends during class
I can fall asleep on the slightest provocation
Sometimes the bathroom CAN'T wait
The end-of-the-school-day bell is like sweet music
Lunch is never timely enough
Study hall is time for me to catch up with my friends and talk about the kids in class (I "team teach" study hall with a special ed teacher, who is on the same sarcastic level as me. I think it's amazing how I can always find SOMEone like me no matter where I roam)

Reasons why I know I'm a grown up now

I get to write on the over head and NOT get in trouble for it
I realize that a compass is not a torture device best used to stab legs
I don't have to go home on the bus
I have a key to get into all the cushy bathrooms (you know, with little luxuries like toilet paper, paper towels, and profanity free walls)
I get to drink pop during school hours (apparently, I DO need all the energy I can get)

My First Week at School

2008-10-02T15:17:00.000-04:00

Well, this was my first week of being a Freshman math teacher at Elmhurst High. It has certainly been an adventure. Although I must admit to really enjoying it. We're still working out the kinks. As a little background the kids have had 2 other teachers for math class. My honor's class is about 2-3 weeks behind the school district's map, and my two algebra classes are about 1-2 weeks behind map. The students ran the last guy ragged, so now they push every single button I have. They must not have found the right one yet, because I still like the little turkeys (well, most of them).

Monday - Wrote up 2 students. One for squirting other students with his water bottle, and the other for cussing at me.
Tuesday - Day went well. One student decided not to do his seat work, so he got up and threw it in the trash. I informed him that I was terribly sorry he threw it in the trash, because that was worth 40 point. He sat in his seat and pouted for 5 minutes, got up and dug it out of the trash. I'm trying not to gloat. hehe. In other news, 2 of my students got arrested at lunch for fighting in the cafeteria. One was expelled, the other spent the night in the juvenile detention center and will probably be back in a couple of weeks.
Wednesday - The natives were restless. I thought I was having a noisy day, and then I bumped into the administrator responsible for the Freshman class (he's basically the freshman principal). He had a stack of referrals about 2" thick and said those were all from that day
Today - Went well. I printed about a zillion little stars, and passed them out to "students portraying exemplary conduct". That worked well and put the focus on what I like to see instead of what I don't like to see. I don't know if it will always work well but it gave me a day off of screaming over 30 adolescents. I'll take it. ;)

That's all so far. I'll keep you informed of progress.

Quilt Time

2008-09-27T20:54:00.007-04:00

I love how this one turned out. I think it looks really whimsical and sweet. It was actually for Jaret and Shar's little bundle of joy, who came into this world... 6 months ago. Ugh. I know, I'm terrible at timing. But I'm glad everything went smoothly and it turned out.

This is a picture of the entire quilt. I read an article about a quilt show once where these ladies from some extremely impoverished county down south (in Gee's Bend, Alabama) were sent all sorts of clothes from charity organizations. In fact, they were sent so many, that they couldn't use them all and cut them up and made quilts out of them. And the article said that they would make these quilts starting very young and even the oldest women would help. And someone discovered the quilts and made a huge show about for them in NYC, and they were so popular at the show, that they inspired the quilt USPS stamps that you saw last year about this time. Anyway, one of the quilts inspired this one (though mine is certainly not up for any prices in NYC), because it had three panels like this one and lots of textures.

Here is a picture of the flower embellishment. When I saw these buttons I had to have them. Someone (I forget who because it's been so long since I bought them), thought they looked like an old lady, and I said, "That's the point!" :)

Mags staring at the quilt during the photo shoot, wishing that she could step on it. But I told her to stay, and that's exactly what she did. :) Good puppy.

The backing. For some reason you always see pictures of the backing in magazines, so I always take pictures of them, even when the backing is boring (like in this case). It's probably just so if anyone wants to buy it, they can feel assured that there isn't a nightmare causing pattern on the back of their baby quilt.

So, I guess all I need now is a name. Any suggestions?...

It's Official!

2008-09-26T18:01:00.000-04:00

I start on Monday! Yeaaaaaah!

Unofficial

2008-09-23T14:42:00.002-04:00

Well, it's still unofficial, but for those of you who haven't heard, I might be getting an emergency teacher position at a local high school (for Freshman math). The school had to fire a teacher a week ago, and if my paperwork goes through and the principal like me, I'll start probably next week. I'm really excited, but I don't want to count my chickens before they've hatched, if you know what I mean. :) So, any prayers you might want to say on my behalf would be appreciated. If for nothing else, you can pray for my sanity, I've been going crazy trying to get all my junk turned in so that a process that normally takes a month will only take a week. Argh. So, anyway, unofficially I'm really excited.

What's a Hoosier??

2008-09-18T10:57:00.003-04:00

Now that I am a Hoosier (I suppose I'll start owning up to it after hearing this story - lol), I was wondering what is a Hoosier?? Is it an extinct bird? Is it a nut (like in Ohio)? Is it an ugly flower (it would have to be an ugly one with a handle like that - no matter what Shakespeare said about a rose by any other name)? No, it turns out that it was none of these things.

Back when Indiana was still a territory and not a legal state, about 1/3 of the property was owned by a man named Hoosier. He was (obviously) a very wealthy farmer. But besides being a very wealthy farmer, he was sympathetic to the plight of the slaves in the south. And he would hire slaves who had escaped their bondage in the south, and would pay them decent wages and give them homes to live in. These escaped slaves were called Hoosiers since they worked on the Hoosier farm. And when Indiana became a state all Indiana residents adopted this familiar name. I must say, I've never been so proud to take the name Hoosier in all my 2.5 years of living here. Bravo, Mr. Hoosier!

Things I'm Excited to Wear Now That It's Fall

2008-09-15T09:52:00.004-04:00

I do realize that this may make me come off as a little... er... vain... but it is so much fun to dig through your closet and remember all the stuff you have that you haven't seen for 6 months.

My collection of assorted long sleeve black t-shirts (I say “assorted” even though their all technically the same, because really they are all very different. Really.)
My wine colored patent-leather toe-peeks
All my cool copper colored stuff (like my copper-colored watch that Peggy made me, copper-colored eye stuff)
My skinny jeans (I only wear them with boots)
My Michigan State sweatshirt (which, sadly, is starting to look worn… this is double sad because it was my graduation present to myself and it’s a really nice one and took some serious beatings since it has lived with me)
My fall colored scarf (can’t wait for it to get about 20 degrees colder, because this is one of my favorite articles of clothing. Beth made it for me and it’s so long it comes down to my knees even when it’s wrapped twice)
My gold Italian leather purse that Rhonda traded me for my extra DVD player
My wide black leather belt that I got at the Gap for $4 and that Brian thinks is scary
My long-sleeved blue button up that my mom got me when I got my job at DRMS (I know, a blue button up isn’t usually cause for great excitement, except this is literally the only button up I have ever owned that fits right)

Speaking of my mom, she’s getting cataract surgery today (very exciting). So, I’m sure she’d appreciate prayers that everything will go smoothly. I’m guessing that she will have never seen as clearly as she will see in a day or two (she’s always had poor vision).

Mini Vacation

2008-09-02T21:33:00.005-04:00

Brian and I went to Manistee for a long (4 day) weekend. It was quite eventful. Normally, when we go up there we sorta sit around and go out to eat. This time we went to Sleeping Bear Dunes, and we went conoeing on the Platte. My shoulders are still really sore, but hopefully Brian will leave me alone about "working out my arms" for a couple days anyway (he's worried that I'll get osteoperosis if I don't do resistance training on my arms and I hate resistance training). Anyway, here's a couple of pics (yes, we finally took our camera and remembered to use it).

Here's me and Brian's shadows at Sleeping Bear Dunes. Turns out Sleeping Bear Dunes is about 3 miles of hilly sand. Who knew? It also seems to be quite the international hot spot it was quite crowded and most of the rest of the people were speaking other languages. It was really fun to hear them all.

Here's a picture of the pier at sunset. Everything was a mad-house this weekend, there were people everywhere, but it's fun for a change to have all the energy and spirit of the tourists... oh wait, we were the tourists!

A New Look

2008-08-28T18:21:00.002-04:00

OK, so I'm pretty much going nuts. It seems like my life has come to a screeching halt. Beth wondered if maybe I had prayed for patience lately. :) So, I thought since I can't really do anything productive, I may as well find a new super awesome template for my blog. So here it is. Let me know if you like it.

EnV

2008-08-15T16:23:00.001-04:00

I love my new phone. I got an LG EnV.

When I was in high school, my mom got me my very first cell phone. It was the free one people used to get for opening accounts with Verizon. It too was an LG. It was nothing particularly special, and I spent the next few years, forgetting to take it on trips (which are why my mom bought it), dropping it, getting it wet, etc, etc. And that was when I first fell in love with LG phones. I had that phone for a few years, and then when my mom renewed my 45 minute/month plan when I was in college, I got a new one that was exactly like the old one. I loved those phones. I thought if something electronic could take that much abuse and keep coming back for more (I have a black thumb when it comes to electronic stuff), then it must be good stock.

My mom couldn’t kick me off her cell phone plan fast enough when I graduated from college. I think I figured out how cool it was to have a cell phone, and be jabbering on it 24/7 and the 45 minutes/month just didn’t hack it. So, my mom hacked me. I have to admit I was a little surprised when I got a bill in the mail one month that hadn’t been there the month before.

Anyway, I kept getting LG phones, and while all my friends were griping about their Samsung or other brand phones, I happily chatted on mine for years. I have ran into a few snags, that goes to show you that phones (not even LGs) don’t last forever. As an example, I had this great flip phone when I lived in Detroit. I loved that thing. It wasn’t anything but a phone. No camera clogging the memory, no music, just a phone. That’s my style. I don’t think you can even find such an animal any more. Anyway, that phone died after a prolonged illness one day while Brian and I were engaged (read: when I was too broke to replace it). It was right before we got married, and my new-every-two wasn’t due for another month or two. And I had broken off the little flap that went over the charging port. Anyway, from my continual abuse, it built up some corrosion in the charging port and wouldn’t charge. Often, I could shake it and it would charge. Sometimes I had to press it just the right way to get it to charge, but one day no amount of pressing, shaking, and later kicking could get the poor little guy to charge.

But a few weeks ago I bought an EnV. I’m kinda used to having a nice phone. And usually after the novelty wears off it’s just a phone that let’s me rack up phone bills that could make grown people cry. This is why I haven’t told you about my phone before now. It is because I thought eventually the novelty would wear off. But it hasn’t. It’s a great phone. And oh-so-convenient for Brian and my new texting package.

So, if you’re tired of racking up phone bills the old-fashioned way and would rather text your thumbs off, you want an EnV. Don’t even bother with a Blackberry (your co-workers will just email you at 3:30 in the morning if you get one of those); go straight for the no-nonsense keyboard, and 4-5 day battery life. It’s the bomb.

Moving Bees/An Advertisement for Home

2008-08-05T19:52:00.004-04:00

I think it's this time of year that I feel most homesick. I always thought it would be Thanksgiving, or Christmas, or my birthday, but really I think it's in the summer. It's the sounds the smells and the feel of a Michigan summer that is simply unbeatable. The nights are cool, with long, lingering blue twilights (twilight is my favorite time of day). I remember when I was a kid I used to "move bees" with my dad.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with my family, my dad is a bee-keeper in the north east portion of the lower peninsula. In the northern part of the state, farmers raise a lot of cash crops (I think that's what they're called), like cucumbers, peppers, etc. And unlike most plants, cucumbers are not pollinated by the wind. They have to pollinated by bees. So, farmers paid my dad to unload a few hives into their cucumber fields.

It was a pretty good gig, especially for me, because for me it was about the least amount of work I could do with fewest stings (unless we dropped a hive off the forklift, which happened sometimes) and the most money per hour. It was also not a job you preformed in the heat of the day when the bees were out of their hives, but in the cool of the evening or in the early morning. Most of the time, "moving bees" went something like this. We would leave the house around 7:30 or so and drove my dad's huge, flat bed truck (that was from the 70's) with his orange fork lift (a converted tractor with big tires) about a half an hour north (which says nothing for how many miles it is, because on a good day with perfect conditions my dad's truck could only go about 60 mph). Once we got to where we were going, it was still inevitably too hot or too sunny, so we would go to one of several greasy spoons that we haunted in the summers. We would have an ice cream or a piece of pie or my dad would have a cup of coffee, and I would have a Coke and some candy until it "cooled down". Then we would we drive the big truck out to the job site, smoke the bees with a little smoker to make them sleepy, and my dad would take his forklift and load them on the back of his flat bed. Then we would drive out to the cucumber patch and unload the bees. I'm not sure if you understand yet how this was such a good gig. My entire list of responsibilities included:

Be a passenger
Eat pie/ice cream/candy
Drink Coke
Puff two or so whiffs of smoke into an already sleeping/calm hive
Stand and watch as hives were unloaded from a truck
Be a passenger again
Get paid

However, my favorite part about moving bees were the nights that my dad had to move lots of bees into a remote field and it took him a long time to unload all the bees, because on those nights (even at 14 or 15 years old) I realized that it in the calm, hazy, summer twilight, that Michigan was perfect. I would stand there on some little tractor lane, often by a small crick (or less romantically, a drain ditch), listening to the crickets, watching indigo flood the sky, breathing in sweet, warm air and admiring how beautiful it was.

Don't get me wrong, I've always been and always will be a city girl. "Urban," is how Brian often describes my clothing and preferred lifestyle. But when I hear crickets, or see mist coming off a body of water, or smell that familiar and sweet smell of earth, I think of home and I think about moving bees with my dad. And I remember again how great Michigan is in the summer.

I May or May NOT Have Passed

2008-07-26T13:42:00.001-04:00

The Praxis, of course. Turns out it was brutal. I think my score is what you call "borderline". It will be literally by the grace of God if I pass. So, you can pray, if you like, that God will choose to extend grace to this particular situation. Thanks. I'd rant more, but I just ranted on my family's blog and am feeling much better. LOL

TRULY Officially Technological

2008-07-16T16:37:00.002-04:00

OK, so in my undergrad, I majored in Math and refused to buy a calculator. It didn't actually make sense for me to buy a calculator because I borrowed one from my mom and then once I graduated from Calculus I (which was my freshman year), I wasn't allowed to use anything more than an eight function. So, now that I'm in a graduate program (this time in Education), I bought a graphing calculator. Go figure (no pun intended). So, now I am truly, truly technologically advanced. Five years ago when I graduated from MSU I thought I was pretty technologically savvy because I owned a mechanical pencil...

I Think I'm Anxious (It must be the Praxis)

2008-07-15T13:07:00.002-04:00

So I've been having anxiety dreams lately. As if being a kind of nervousy person throughout the day isn't bad enough. Now, I have to deal with it all night too. >:( Gr.

In the last few weeks I've had every anxiety dream known to man. The kind where you can't open your eyes (I hate that one). The kind where you're running from something. The kind where you don't go to class and then you show up for the final exam and don't know much of anything (that one I may deserve as I did something similar in a college math class that I hated). But last night's dream was the worst one. Last night I dreamed that I needed a root canal. A dream that most people would be able to laugh that one off. A lion chasing you all night, a failing grade, being unclothed in public - those are frightening, but a root canal???

I think the reason it was so disturbing was because I have a tooth that hurts and since I don't have dental insurance I don't want to go to the dentist unless absolutely necessary. Whoa. Let me back up, lest you think I'm one of those people who doesn't take care of their teeth. I take care of my teeth. I'm a little over-the-top about taking care of my teeth. My teeth get both flossed and brushed at least twice a day. I used to live at the dentist office. They would close shop, I'd pull out a little cot. I mean, I've spent a lot of time at the dentist. But I'm soooooo tired of the dentist. And my last dentist, though a very artful dentist - who made my teeth about as pretty as my teeth could be, was a whack job. I do have to hand it to the guy, he did a great job making my teeth look nice, but he definitely wasn't the kind of dentist someone like me should go to, because he filled and refilled every teeny, tiny spec in my entire head (even specs that he wasn't sure about). It was a nightmare. Not to mention expensive. So, I'm really, really tired of dentists who make me feel like I'm a bad/irresponsible person for flossing only twice a day. So, my dream about going to the dentist and needing a root canal seemed very real. And very scary.

But I don't think it's my tooth that is the cause of my stress. I'm pretty sure it's the Praxis. I haven't taken a test in eons. Much less a test that actually counts for something more than 25% of a grade. In the scheme of things (I wish I had realized this in college), a test in a class is just a drop in the bucket. Anywhere from 10%-25% of a grade that is 1/50th or so of your total GPA. Yeah, those tests really don't mean anything (maybe I should put a disclaimer on this for parents not to let their kids read it). But the Praxis means something, because it stands alone. Ugh. So, I've been studying up for it, and it will probably be OK, but really, I will just be so much happier when it's done and out of the way.

So Brave, Young, and Handsome

2008-06-30T21:37:00.002-04:00

OK, I'm not big on recommending things like books, movies, or music. It makes me feel responsible. However, some times something touches me enough that I want to recommend it. So, here goes. I'm going to recommend "So Brave, Young and Handsome" by Leif Enger. I may be somewhat biased because I liked Leif Enger's style so much, that when Brian and I saw his new book on the shelf at Barnes and Noble, we had to get it. Well, I read it in about a week (which for me is pretty good since I don't usually invest a lot of time in reading - I know it's shameful). It was great. Someone online called it a "smooth mix of romanticism and gritty reality." By gritty they mean literally. :) Just thinking about the book makes me a little itchy thinking about sleeping outside for weeks at a time as I'm traveling through the prairie states. Anyway, it's a good book, if you like gritty reality and romanticism, it may be the book for you.

Yahtzee

2008-06-19T16:25:00.003-04:00

OK, so this all started about umpteen years ago. My dad is an avid gamer. I don't mean the kind that sits in front of a video game for hours on end, more like the type who likes to play regular old games. If he has no one to play games with, he just plays them by himself. I recall many a happy childhood hour that my dad spent playing Parcheesi in the basement while I played with my toys. Back then there was very sophisticated gaming materials. There wasn't any personal computers or Gameboys or anything. So, he was old-school. He had a Parcheesi board game. He wore out at least one Parcheesi game during my childhood. He also played Yahtzee by himself. In recent years, he had a few games he enjoyed on the computer, but got his computer privileges revoked when my mom got a new Apple a few years ago which she didn't want him messing with (he's not what I'd call technologically savvy - unlike me, who is "officially technological" yuk, yuk). So, one Christmas, I bought him a hand-held Yahtzee game from Meijer. Best ten bucks I ever spent. Hand held games have totally revolutionized his life. He now is the proud owner of several hand-held games including Yahtzee, Boggle, Solitaire, and Tetris (to name a few), and he has been known to make phone calls at all hours to let us know of a new high score (which is big news since he plays so much he's ran up the high scores to impossible levels).

So, when we go home for a weekend there are periods of the weekend where no one is talking and everyone is playing their own hand-held game. It's great fun. The thing that's the biggest problem for me, is that I'm not very good at any of said games. I'm not very coordinated, so I can't play Tetris; I have the vocabulary of a four-year-old, so I don't do well with Boggle; I'm not lucky so I don't do well with Solitaire and Yahtzee. It is for this reason that I'm going to create a new Yahtzee game for people like me.

First of all, I'm not going to have a "large straight" on my game. Two smalls would be challenge enough. And you can forget about that stinking "full house" too. I'll call it an "almost full house" (two pairs would count for that). There would be about 5 or so slots for "chance". Yep, I'd be calling my dad at 6 in the morning every day to tell him about a new high score. Yep, I'll call it Julzee. It will be the latest rage for all of us underdogs. Move over Wii.

School and Praxis

2008-06-17T13:25:00.002-04:00

OK, so I'm officially done with my first class. I even got my grade already. I'm pretty happy with it. Granted, this is the second time I've taken Educational Psychology, so I may have had a head start, but that was also 6 or so years ago. So, I'm just going to go ahead and pat myself on the back anyway (not like I don't do that enough).

I bought a pair of shoes last night at Marshalls. They're black strappy heals. I really needed a pair of black strappy heals for church, but I also justified them as a good student teaching shoe. See how black strappy heals are just plain useful? I really wanted this pair of ivory shoes (not sure what I'd wear them with, I haven't owned anything ivory for years). They were toe-peeks with a pretty nice, tall heal, and they had this little strip of lace-up at the ankles. Kinda hard to explain. I was looking for a picture of them, but I couldn't find them. Apparently, when Nine West sells their shoes to Marshalls they drop off the face of the earth (read: Internet). Anyway, they were super cool and trendy, but Brian hated them and started to threaten to buy a motorcycle, so I put them back. But they were pretty stinking awesome. All this is to say that I feel like I need to start stocking up on cloths for student teaching. For the last 2 years, the most serious thing I wore to work was jeans (and that's a dressy day). So, I need to stock up, because if I buy a whole bunch of "serious" clothes all at once I bust the ol' budget.

Which brings me to the Praxis. OK, so I hate tests. And as far as I can tell, the Praxis is just a big, mean test that I have to take if I ever want to be a teacher. Ugh. So, I'm going to start studying for it. I've decided to not be nervous about it (however just writing about it makes me a little ill), because it's just math. That's supposed to be what I'm good at. My concern is that I'll find out math isn't really what I'm good at. So, I'm going to study. I've organized a little study group of fellow not-sure-if-I-should-be-a-math-teacher students, and we meet for the first time tonight. I'll keep you posted on how we do.

Wedding Dresses

2008-06-06T16:53:00.003-04:00

Ok, I'm a huge sucker for wedding dresses. I'm a big girl. I can admit it. So, when I saw this wedding dress slide show, I got excited. And the dresses are very pretty and all, but what's up with the girls' faces? Some of them look like they have just had their brains sucked out by aliens, some look mean, some look like, "Did he show up??" Only one or two actually looks like some sort of bride. Take a look...

Bike Accident

2008-05-26T10:29:00.004-04:00

So Brian and I went on a bike ride on Saturday because I didn't have school. We rode all the way down to New Haven, and on our way back, I was looking over my shoulder to see if there was any end tables at a garage sale, and I ran into the back of a parked SUV (yet another reason for me to be bitter about SUVs). Luckily, my bike is still OK, and I'm mostly OK, except I have a gouge on my chin and my back is really sore (I'm going to the chiropractor tomorrow). I think I dislocated my jaw too, but that's back in place, and although it's sore, it seems to be OK. Probably my pride is the only casualty.

School

2008-05-04T23:02:00.002-04:00

So, I started school yesterday. I made Brian take pictures of me on my first day of school because "I've never been to college for the second time before." LOL! Which brings me to my point (did you notice that my prelude was shorter than usual? It's because it's after 11 PM and I should be in bed).

While I was growing up there were a lot of "celebrations". We celebrated everything that was worth any sort of commemorating. Even unworthy events were sometimes honored. But at my house, going to school was a big deal. Every school achievement was a marked triumph. Don't get me wrong, my frugal parents rarely bribed us with money for good grades, but good grades were praised and lauded, and each graduation - kindergarten and college alike - were attended and enjoyed. Yup. My family knew how to celebrate a good education. You may have thought, if you were my childhood friend, that I was either an only child or from a family that hadn't heretofore had any high school graduates, so earnest and participatory were my parents.

So, going back to school for me is a really big deal. I bought a new bag (for my new laptop) and new pens and pencils and a new note book, and I even splurged and bought index cards just in case I would actually do anything in school other than "wing it". I picked out an outfit (side note: I didn't wear the outfit I had picked out so Brian, without prompt, ironed my favorite black, long-sleeved t-shirt so I would feel more comfortable - that was the sweetest thing). I curled my hair, I wore my favorite pair of heals, and didn't pack a lunch so I would have an excuse to go out if the other students were going some place for lunch.

Yep. It was a big deal. And as I flung my new bag with my new pens and new notebook over my shoulder, I felt exactly like I did when I was five and wearing white knee high socks, with brown Mary Jane's and a little plaid rap-around skirt and a buttoned down blouse (much to my chagrin, I hated blouses back then). And I still feel a little like I'm five. Kinda giddy, mostly corny, but really, really, really excited. And that's all that counts.

Newer New Computer

2008-04-28T22:13:00.002-04:00

So, tonight the Pacific Blue computer went back to Best Buy. It was kind of sad. We accidentally grabbed the wrong box, so we had Brian's box for his enormous laptop (it has a 17" screen... it's a monster). So, when I put my little Pacific Blue computer in Brian's big box to take it back, it looked so little and sad. But now, I am the proud owner of a new Pacific Blue computer. Honestly, if you were a casual observer of our lives, you would never notice the difference between the old, new computer and the new, new computer. So instead of going to bed (we have to wake up early in the morning), I am putting updates on my new Pacific Blue.

You may ask what was wrong with the other. It had a malfunctioning button so every time you pressed a little too hard or typed a little too hard up would pop Windows Media Center. It was to bad it did it 4 times in a row while I was having the best round of my life (thus far) of Word Hunter. Had it happened during something boring like typing up a paper, or during something mundane like checking my email, it may have been forgiven of the innocuous crime. But the interruption of a good game with all the good letters and two S's is unpardonable.

But all is well again. Except, I can't help thinking of the poor little Pacific Blue computer with a "too tight quick launch panel". I can't help thinking that if I were exchanged every time I was "too tight", I might get exchanged pretty often. Luckily for me, I haven't been sent back to the manufacturer yet.

Good night, new Pacific Blue. May your updates take. And good night old Pacific Blue. I hope you can go back to Gateway and get a nice massage and get loosened up.

Updates (for lack of a more creative title)

2008-04-23T13:21:00.003-04:00

My life has been pretty hectic lately. There's a lot of stuff that I think about and say, I should post about that, and then never post it. Like the time the bread exploded for no good reason in our bread machine. Or when I got my computer (it's Pacific Blue), etc. etc. But then it's been so busy, and when it's not busy, I'm too tired. Like tonight. Brian's going to work at Park Center tonight, and what will I do?? Most likely, I'll sit on the couch and make sure that Sam and Maggie don't kill each other. Anyway, for those of you who haven't heard, I will be going back to school. I start May 3rd. I have a couple of months off in the summer, but it will still be a lot different. The other day I got school supplies. I got this great little black tote with pockets on the front and I got a big ol' fat notebook and I got a little zipper bag for my pens and pencils and paper clips and such, and I got a new mechanical pencil (very important), and all that great stuff. I feel really smart. I love school. It's so funny to feel that way because when I graduated from college I was officially burnt out and I thought that I would never want to go back to school or step a toe inside a school, but here I am. Going back and stepping toes.

I'm also trying (desperately) to finish a quilt I've been working on since New Years. It's been a thorn in my side. For some reason everything that could go wrong went wrong, so I had to completely start over, and now I am so sick of the entire project that I just leave it sitting around instead of finishing it. But I hope to have it done this weekend so I can start on something I actually want to do. I think it's going to look cute. And I love the fabric, but I'm so tired of working on it. I think I'm one of those people who just likes to do a project and get it done and move on.

Maggie's getting HUGE. She's soooo tall. She's starting to look like an adult dog. She's very pretty. She's doing pretty well. She had an accident last night, which baffled us, but other than that she's normally a really good little puppy. She sometimes bites Sam's ankles, which distresses him. But I think that's all part of being a puppy.

Anyway, I started this post thinking that it may be my last. Thinking that I should just say how busy I am (and about to get busier) and forget the blog. But then I realized that if I had no blog I would have no forum to voice my random nonsense. And I don't think I'm ready to take that step yet. :) Not that I'm officially technological with my new computer, I can hardly not maintain my blog, right??

Sam And Maggie Go To The Vet

2008-04-09T09:36:00.002-04:00

Last week, Maggie got spayed. Initially, we had scheduled an appointment for Sam to go in as well. Sam had been a huge turd and we had started to wonder if maybe he was sick or not feeling well. So, we had scheduled an appointment for Maggie at 8:10 for her spay and an appointment for Sam at 8:30 for a general office visit. But it turned out that I got the stomach flu (the details of which I will spare you), and Brian had appointments at work, so he had to drop Mags off for her spay and couldn't take Sam. So, it turned out that Sam and Maggie did not go to the vet. Just Maggie.

So, you could rightly ask yourself why I named my post "Sam and Maggie Go to the Vet" when Sam didn't actually go. The reason I named it that is because we (Brian and I) thought it would make a great children's book title. Although we may have had different ideas as to the gist of the story.

I thought it could be a meaningful, thought-provoking yarn about the reality of mortality (Sam's story) and the hope of life (Maggie's story). Maybe it could be about Sam facing the fact that he's aging, and how he feels about that. And maybe it could be about Maggie feeling tip-top and cheerful and how she ultimately makes Sam feel young again.

However, I think when Brian suggested this title, he thought the story should be a comedic tale about two adults trying to juggle an enormous puppy and a tiny, yet snarly, Jack Russel Terrier at the vet. Where Mags (the puppy) is trying to chew on everything, possibly even the receptionist's shoe, and Sam (the snarly Jack Russel) is trying to attack every living creature with the exception of the people and Maggie. In the pictures, Sam would have perky little ears, and would always have those little dust balls behind his feet that indicate how fast he's running. And Maggie would be really big (though not quite like Clifford), and would likely shuffle around like ScoobyDoo.

But whatever the story, whether a child's expose on mortality and hope, or a laugh a minute slap-stick comedy, it's a great title. And maybe Brian and I should take to writing children's books.

Jacob

2008-03-24T18:11:00.002-04:00

I hate to break my silence with depressing news, but here it is anyway. The first member of my high school graduating class (that I know of) has died today. He was in a really bad car accident in Bay City, Michigan. The driver of the other car ran a stop sign and hit him on the driver's side door.

Anyway, I grew up with this guy. We spent 180 days a year together from the time we were 5 years old until we were 18, and we weren't bosom pals or anything, he was nice kid that I had a lot of laughs with in band, and joked with in grammar, and remembered from the reading rug in kindergarten.

I'm not feeling very articulate but I wanted to make some wistful remarks about Easter and celebrating new life and what that means in the light of mortality, but when it comes right down to it, the only words that come to mind is, "I'm so sorry," and "that's awful." But I'm glad there is an Easter. I'm so grateful that there is a new hope and a new life and that the new life and hope of Easter are evident even in nature in this time of year. And I don't have anything particularly poetic to say except that I truly am sorry for the loss of his friends and family. Good bye, Jacob.

The Flu

2008-02-28T15:01:00.003-05:00

I get the flu shot. I'm a firm believer flu shots. I've gotten the flu several times in my twenty-something years, and one year, I got tired of it and started getting the flu shot. Winter has been better ever since. My winters had become so painless, it was like I was one of those girls in a pretty white sundress with embroidery dancing through meadows full of daisies. I haven't gotten the flu, significant colds, etc for years. It's been beautiful.

You've heard, haven't you that the 2007/2008 flu shot only covered against one of two strains that were going around this year? Yeah, well... I got the other one. >:( Gr. Maybe once I'm over being so mad that I got the flu, and that I had to sleep sitting straight up on the couch, and that I couldn't get relief from any remedy, and that my nose is now so full of sores that it's painful to touch, I'll write about something cheerful, like how wonderful it was to see everyone this past weekend, and how lovely Jon and Amy's wedding was, and all.

Pinky and The Brain

2008-02-12T16:51:00.000-05:00

So, I have a new theory about Sam and Maggie. And I'm sure you've all guess by now which is Pinky and which is The Brain. However, unlike Pinky and The Brain, I think Sam has successfully orchestrated a mutiny.
It all started when we got Mags. Since getting suckered into getting a Jack Russell, I promised that my next dog would be of the more laid-back variety. Not that I don't like Sam, because I do. I just thought that too many Sams in one lifetime might raise some questions about my mental well being, and whether or not I was masochistic, suicidal, or both. So, when we talked about getting another puppy, it was always in the context that we would get a mild-mannered dog, like a Golden Retriever. Sam listened, feigning (kind convincingly) ignorance. Meanwhile, Sam acted badder than ever to ensure that we would get "an easily trainable" puppy.

Enter Maggie. I think when Sam saw Maggie he chuckled to himself, "he. he. he." This puppy was perfect. She was sweet. She was adorable. She was oh so malleable. He said to himself, "I shall train this silly puppy to do my evil bidding by using that 'pack mentality' crap that puppies these days are falling for." So, Sam spent the next month being as surly and snotty as possible. Poor Maggie (the little sucker) fell for it hook line and sinker. The more he barked at her, the more determined she was to convince him to like her. Now, she is nearly 3 times his size and is his very devoted slave.

Sam is careful to not like her too much, even though she's his only furry friend (his animal relationships to date have not been very successful), but Brian and I knew we were duped when last night Sam and Maggie were very quietly (read suspiciously) commiserating in Sam's room. Every time I called Maggie, they both came. I called Sam. They both came. I gave Maggie water, they both drank it, cheek-to-cheek (this is what made me the most nervous as they have never been able to share anything in the past without barking being involved). I think they're staging a coup. Let's just say Maggie and Sam being in each other's confidence doesn't make us feel very comfortable. Especially since neither Brian nor I speak Dog. So, I'm attaching pictures of the two culprits. That way if you see them on the news, you'll know where to find them (but you have to split the reward money 50/50, because I gave you the tip).

What I Have Been Doing & Why I Haven't Blogged

2008-02-11T13:23:00.000-05:00

At first I hadn't blogged because I was doing pleasant things. The kind of things you don't want to interrupt with creating and the inevitable spell-checking that would then ensue. The "pleasant things" I refer to is vacation. In the middle of January Brian and I went up north to sit at Uncle Bill and Aunt Genie's cottage on Lake Michigan. It was very fun and very quiet, and we got to see Grandpa and Barb quite a bit, and go swimming (inside) and watch it snow, and watch the first three seasons of "Lost" (which before then we hadn't seen and our friends keep telling us to watch).

Then, when we got home, we had unpleasant things keeping us from blogging. Sam, for an example. Turns out when dogs get old, they get clingy, and when their owners go on vacation they take it personally and then have "accidents" (more like "on purposes") all over the house, and bark for hours after going to bed.

Then last weekend, Brian went on the Sunday School Ski Retreat and left me home alone with a couple of my friends and a huge stack of movies and popcorn. It was a lot of fun except after going out to eat, one of my friends got food poisoning and had to go home early. :( But then, we had our annual Super Bowl party on Sunday evening, and Brian got home in time to enjoy it, so that's nice, but still, way too busy to really sit down and blog.

Then this past weekend, Brian and I were on the Valentine's Dinner committee at church, so every night last week was taken up with some activity for that. And when we got home on Wednesday, we were welcomed by a thick, damp stench, and soaked carpet. Turns out 10 or so inches of rain doesn't do your drains any favors. So, Friday morning before work, we (by "we" I mean Brian) were pulling out the carpet and padding and bleaching the sub floors. Gross. It smells almost normal now, and in the long-run, it will be nice to have clean carpet down there (the carpet we had down there was a little gross anyway after the incident where Sam tore up a bag of garbage on it).

Then on Friday, we were getting ready for the V-day dinner, and I was slicing green peppers and took off about half of the pad of my right thumb with the slicer. Which you can image (since I probably got down to the muscle), ached and ached, and bled and bled. It was bleeding through three layers of band-aids (the only thing I could find at the fellowship hall) at a time and I thought I would have to get in cauterized, but it turns out that when you stop bumping it, it has a chance to clot.

On Saturday we were back to doing pleasant things. I slept for a long time after breakfast (probably until 2 or so), and when I woke up Brian and I decided to pretend it was Valentine's day, so we went out and got dinner and a movie and walked around the mall and such. It was nice and quiet.

I have about a zillion projects I should be working on, but I think I'm going to wait until after the new carpet is in to worry about any of them. So, I guess that's all. Now, that I've caught everyone up on what is happening in the life of Brian and Julie, I think my next post will be free to be much more entertaining, and much less a summation of the lives of two people over the course of the last month.

A New CD

2008-01-14T16:51:00.000-05:00

I’m a little ashamed (but obviously not enough to make me stop writing) to say that last week I bought a Charlotte Church CD. First of all, I almost never buy CDs. I’m not much of a listen-to-a-CD kind of girl. I like the radio, and call me crazy but even an entertaining commercial now and then is a completely acceptable way to spend a commute. So, I have long viewed CD’s as an unnecessary expense. My husband, the owner of hundreds of CD’s (that are currently being downloaded onto his Zune so he can listen to them even more), does not share this opinion. I think that the last time I purchased a CD was two Christmases ago when I heard a Christmas song on the radio that “inspired” me.

One might ask what a non-CD purchaser (such as myself) is doing buying a Charlotte Church CD. Charlotte Church, though she has an absolutely gorgeous voice, is the kind of person that is half painful for me to listen to since she reminds me so much of being such a band-geek in high school. Not that she’s a geek or anything, because I’ve never met her. But I can’t help feeling that since she’s been a famous classical singer since she was a little girl, she must be a geek, or at the very least not quite normal (much like me). Anyway, she kind of reminds me of high school, so typically I can’t listen to her music without feeling a pang.

However, I overcame my desire to not spend good, hard-earned money on something I could hear for free on the radio, and I conquered the undeniable twinges of geek-hood to obtain “Prelude” by Charlotte Church. What could arouse such a transformation, you may ask.

It is “The Flower Duet” from “Lakme”. It’s a beautiful piece. It gives me chills. I first heard it on an unassuming day at Michigan State, back in the days when I had 24/7 access to the perfect NPR station. It was a beautiful Michigan fall day when it was still quite warm and the leaves were changing colors and the sky was bright blue (like it is in the summer, not pale blue like in the winter). It was the kind of day that makes you glad to be a Michiganian. Anyway, Charlotte Church has a beautiful version of this song. As I drove home on a rainy January Friday in Indiana, I skipped to song eleven on my CD and felt refreshed, and like somehow it added a little poetry to my life. I guess that’s how good music is.

NOT About The Dogs

2008-01-09T13:33:00.000-05:00

You would think that a couple that is so busy they don’t have time to make dinner would have a lot to write about on a blog. But we don’t. However, if you want to read an exhaustive review of how to potty train a puppy, or the seemingly endless descriptions of dog-toys and treats, we could, with some eloquence fill infinite blogs.

I don’t want to bore my 3 faithful readers with lots of dog stories; however, I do want to tell you (because it’s actually clever and funny) that Sam has out-smarted his Kong. For you non-dog-owners, a Kong is a rubber toy that is shaped like a snowman with a big hole in the bottom. You fill the hole with food (such as peanut butter, treats, or cheese) and then the dog has to chew on it to get stuff out. Most dogs find this to be entertaining for hours, but Sam has everything out in 15 minutes flat, which made us wonder what he was doing. It turned out, he would get out all the sticky stuff with his tongue, and then when there were only treats left in it, he would put the Kong on a hard surface and bat it with his paw to make it spin and then the hard treats would come flying out. I think it’s a little depressing that my dog is smarter than me.

But enough about the dogs. Aw, just one more quick thing. Maggles (the new nick-name craze for Maggie) is now growing at the alarming rate of 2 lbs per day. She will likely turn into a small moose (don’t tell her I said that – girls don’t like to be compared to a moose). She’s super cute and her skin is still baggy like she plans on growing some more. I think she looks like she’s wearing a costume, but I can’t find the zipper.

And really briefly, Mags voice changed literally over-night. On Sunday evening she was barking at the neighbor’s dog and it sounded like a little puppy-dog yip (all scratchy and rough like puppies). Then on Monday night she nearly gave me a heart-attack because when she barked she sounded like a large fully grown dog. Like WOOF! WOOF! I thought another dog must be eating her alive so I ran outside and it was Maggie making such adult-like noises. It was strange. She was barking at nothing and very intently, so I think she was kind of impressed at the sound of her own voice. Like, “A-hem *delicately* WOOF! WOOF! WOOF!” Brian thought she was like the lion that learned to roar.

Boy, I’m glad I made it all the way through this post without talking about the dogs too much, because if I had talked about the dogs this whole time everyone might think I’m weird, like I don’t have a life or something…

So It Turns Out...

2008-01-03T16:46:00.000-05:00

The mundane details of my life are pretty mundane.

The count-down to our vacation is starting to get a teensy bit out of control. Days of work left? One more day, then five more days, than four more days. Yeeeeeeah! I don't know that I've ever been so excited about a vacation in my life. Not that I'm expecting it to be perfect, just not getting up every day and going to work. Yep. That's enough for me.

Last night I made chicken stew for dinner. It was good. Unfortunately, it's heart-attack in bowl. In order to make chicken interesting enough to make into a stew, you have to put all kinds of goodies in there. Like cream of chicken soup and sour cream, and the like. But it was good. It was nice to eat at home for a change (I never thought I'd hear myself say that).

Um... that's about all the details that are even interesting enough to be considered mundane. :) Have a good evening.

2007 in Review

2007-12-28T13:38:00.000-05:00

NEW FAVORITE RECIPE:
Heart-attack Sticky Buns (aka "Pull-Apart Maple Pecan Sticky Buns") from the Kraft website. Basically they are sticky buns with cream cheese in the center.

NEW FAVORITE RESTAURANT:
The Italian Connection. It's a quaint little authentic Italian restaurant in downtown Fort Wayne where the cook is the owner and sings like Frank Sinatra.

FAVORITE MOVIE RELEASE:
"The Pursuit of Happyness" with Will Smith. It was a refreshing change from all the lousy sequels that came out this year.

NEW FAVORITE PAIR OF SHOES:
A $29 pair of insulated boots that I got at Value City with obviously fake fur and huge buttons.

LATEST HOBBY:
Quilting

LATEST SPORT:
(Not that I participate in many/any sports) Biking. Brian got me a nifty new bike for our anniversary and I can hardly wait for it to get warm again so I can use it.

BIGGEST BUMMER:
Breaking the lid for my favorite kettle because I stacked it badly.

BIGGEST TRIUMPH:
Finishing my nieces' and nephews' stockings that we filled for them for Christmas. I had this genius idea to make them all myself. I thought, "I've made quilts in a matter of a few weeks, how hard can six stockings be??" Apparently pretty hard. It was almost the death of me (and Brian).

BIGGEST NUISANCE:
My on-going muffler saga.

NEWEST FAMILY MEMBER:
Maggie the Boxer/Lab mix, who is getting cuter and bigger every day. Not to brag or anything, but Brian and I have the cutest, funniest, overall best dogs in the world (not to brag). LOL!

BIGGEST UNDER-TAKING:
Ugh. Our yard. Just thinking about all the landscaping we did and how much more we have left to do makes me tired. It is literally a never-ending battle.

Now that I've bored you with all of my 2007 details, I'd like to hear some of yours. Happy NEW YEAR!

People Just Don't Write Thank-You's Quite Like They Used To...

2007-12-17T08:47:00.000-05:00

The following is a thank you note from my cousin, Paul, to my Uncle Jim and Aunt Marlene. Apparently, he spent some time with them, and their four daughters (Beth, Deb, Wendy, and Natalie). I'm guessing by the date that he was 9 or 10 years old when he wrote this. My cousin, Beth, found it recently added comments (in red) and forwarded it on. My comments are in green. I can not possibly keep up with his eloquence. Hope you enjoy!

August 22, 1978
8:51:35 I assume this was the exact time...

My Dearest Uncle James Albert Ramseyer and Family,

It is my wish to in some small way convey my deepest appreciation for the many kindnesses bestowed upon me. It has recently dawned upon my realization what great effort was put forth by you and other members of your wonderful family during my perfectly lovely stay. Words fail to express my deepest joy at being able to spend a week at your place of abode. I was perfectly enraptured, enchanted, encharmed. I wish I knew "encharmed" was a word, I would have been using it more frequently.
Since my delectable stay it has been made known that my dearest cousin Debra has fallen in to misfortune. Deb busted her leg on that fated skateboard and needed surgery. My mind fails to find words to express my heart felt sympathy. It is my deep wish and fond expectation to find her healthy and hole not a misprint upon our reunion.
I wish to express my unbounded gratitude for the effort of you and Clifford Jones to bring about a most delightful fishing excursion. Please extend my gratitude to him.

Your Sincerest Nephew and cuz
Lovingly Gotta love the second farewell
Paul Alan Getz

I mean, what a great thank you note! It doesn't get much better than that!

7 Things

2007-12-05T15:09:00.000-05:00

Beth at tagged me for this game.

Here are the rules:
1) Link to the person who tagged you and post the rules on your blog.
2) Share 7 facts about yourself.
3) Tag 7 random people and include links to their blogs.
4) Let each person know they have been tagged and comment on their blog.

Seven Facts about Myself
1. I can fall asleep mid-sentence. I think I developed this habit when I was a kid and would always force myself asleep when people were scratching my back so I wouldn’t have to return the favor. Lol. Now, I just randomly fall asleep… sitting up, laying down, talking, listening… whenever.

2. I love, love, love snakes. I think the way they move is really cool. I didn’t know I liked them until I worked at Science Central with a particularly neat/small one. I would get one, but Brian doesn’t like them and has threatened to get a whole room of spiders if I get a snake. I can’t allow that to happen.

3. I used to eat lemons like normal people eat oranges. I still really like them, but apparently it’s not good manners (as an adult) to hold a lemon wedge in between your front teeth and suck out all the juice at a restaurant.

4. I used to (by “used to” I mean up until 5 minutes ago) plan out the sound-track to my life (for when it becomes a movie). I was at least 25 before I realized that should be something to be embarrassed about.

5. When I was in college, I had a seasonal job at HoneyBaked Ham, and on the 23rd of December after working the entire first half of my vacation 12 hours a day, standing in one spot for the entire time, I was about ready to walk. I just couldn’t justify leaving them high and dry. Well, I had finally talked myself into leaving after lunch and never going back, when my boss came out and asked if I would be interested in working part time after the holidays. Of course, I needed a job (I almost perpetually need a job), and I worked there for 3 years.

6. I hate the game Apples to Apples. Reason? I totally don’t get it. I mean, it’s not a game! (Yes, I am aware that I'll catch some flack for this.)

7. My dream one day is to own a boat. Not as a status symbol, but just for fun. I want to live by a large body of water and boat places instead of drive. My aunt and uncle used to take me boating some times and we would boat from Grand Haven, MI down to Holland and eat dinner and come back. It was awesome.

And now I'm going to tag:

1. Jim
2. Dona
3. Hannah
4. Ann
5. Caitlin
6. Tonia
7. Aaron

The Newest Member Of Our Family... er... Pack

2007-12-03T21:23:00.000-05:00

This is Maggie. She is (don't tell Brian I said this) a mutt. She's mostly lab and boxer, yeah... a mutt. I like her better for it. Sam's doing better than anyone thought he would. He's cranky and tries to make sure Maggie know that she's inferior, but what's new??

Yes, we're crazy for getting a new puppy that we have to take out in the middle of the night in December, but yeah... that's us. A little crazy.

So, meet Maggie. More to come.

I've Got A Crush... On A State (?)

2007-11-27T16:44:00.000-05:00

I'm so homesick. It's a very strange feeling to be homesick. It's kind of like having a crush on home. You hang on every word that is said about home, you think about it all the time, even when you know you should be thinking about other things, you talk about it until you about drive your friends (and your husband nuts). You fantasize about moving back, where you're going to live, and what you'll life will look like. Every time you go home you get a huge lump in your throat when you leave.... Yep. I've got a crush on Michigan.

Last weekend, Brian and I were at his parents' house near Grand Rapids. Grand Rapids has never been home to me, although I went there often enough when I was at Michigan State (often to see my other crush - Brian). And it just felt right. It looked right, it smelled right, the noises were right... it was just... right. The stores at the mall were all my stores that I grew up with. The problems people faced were all my problems that I grew up with. The clothes that people wore were all my clothes... It just seemed so familiar and like I didn't need try to fit in because I did. Just naturally.

Anyway, I feel like I've been talking about being homesick more often than normal. And I also feel like a teenage girl whose friends are tired of listening to her gab about the latest and greatest thing that her crush did. But we've decorated for Christmas now, and even the biggest humbug has to admit that places feel more like home with lights and tinsel and garland.

7 Eleven

2007-11-13T16:56:00.001-05:00

I think when I find something in life I can’t explain, I’ll think about it until I come up with some explanation, whether reasonable or not (which I decidedly prefer the less reasonable explanations – much more interesting). So, I was thinking the other day about the convenience store, Seven Eleven. I don’t know why things enter my consciousness at some times but not at others. I believe this particular incident was contrived after reading that it was 7:11 PM on the clock in my car.

So, I thought about that for a while. Why did the owner name the store Seven Eleven? And I thought there must have been a fellow who worked in a little shop (some time before neuroses were considered negative things – probably the 20’s or so). This little fellow probably worked in a little boring shop (like a shoe-repair shop) on the second shift, and was often bored and lonely because he worked alone and didn’t have very many customers due to the dinner hour and nightly radio schedule. And this fellow, probably suffered from OCD, and would wait until his shift was half over to walk across the street to the little general store and buy himself a soda (and most likely a licorice). And every evening he went across the street at exactly 7:11 PM. In my theory, this fellow (with his OCD) would have to always abide by his break times and throughout his life he would always stop what he was doing and get a little snack at exactly 7:11 PM. Then, when he was older he decide to have a snack shop where people could by licorice flavored soda and other break necessities and he called his store Seven Eleven which in his mind was synonymous with “break time.”

Then I thought, that that was probably much too romantic for something like a convenience store where people are mugged, and it dawned on me that probably the store was named after the address of the first location (which, I don’t like, though much more reasonable). But, there’s not really much of a story in that.

So, I think I will continue to think of Seven Eleven as the little store that Mr. So-and-so opened before OCD was a disorder.

Just Minding My P's and Q's

2007-11-09T12:36:00.000-05:00

So, I was sitting in church last Sunday, just minding my own business when, out of no where a cardinal dives into one of the windows in the front. I guess I should explain why I saw this and no one else did. Our church is fan-shaped and one side is completely covered by windows overlooking a little pond (which frankly needs some chemical readjustment - it's just unnatural), the other side of the church is the nursery with those one-way windows so people in the nursery can watch the service and so that the people in the sanctuary don't have to watch what's going on in the nursery. Anyway, it's all very symmetrical and pretty (no, symmetry is not my only qualification for beauty - even thought I am a math geek). In the pulpit area, the pulpit is at the center of the stage, above the pulpit is a large round window, and on either side of the pulpit are two rectangular windows. These windows are mostly hidden from the congregation because when looking at the stage, you are looking at the sides of these windows. However, the farther you get to one side or another, the better you can see out the windows as your listening to the service (I add that to emphasize that I was actually listening to the service at point of impact).

I was sitting on the far right hand side of the church. Way, way over and pretty close to the back, and had a better view of the left-hand window than just about anyone. I saw the bird coming towards the window (it was a bright, red cardinal), and when it hit the window (a move I had not foreseen), I clutched at my throat, and gasped - loud enough to gain the attention of many of my fellow church-goers. Upon looking around, to see if other's reactions were as severe, I noticed that most people hadn't witness the Kamikaze-like event, and were passively and indifferently (indifferent to the fragile lives of birds, not to sermons) listening. Their hearts did not look effected by the incident, nor were their necks craned to watch the dazed bird disappear (disappear most likely from embarrassment). It was like watching some spectacular mishap in a play, and being the only one to have noticed it. I'm sure the person who first saw the actor who had killed himself on the set of "The Wizard of Oz" could not have been more shocked to see other things blithely maintained, as I was at that moment.

On the way home from church, I mentioned to Brian about the bird, and he said (in his usual calm way) that cardinals are very aggressive and territorial, and it was likely that the bird had seen his own reflection in the window and thought it was another bird. An assumption I am sure he regretted for at least one night as he was undoubtedly recovering from a concussion (I hope his mother woke him up every thirty minutes that first night).

I wonder what he was thinking as he flew away. My boss thought he might have been thinking something like, "I sure hope that hurt him as much as it hurt me." And I think that is the most likely thought. I doubt he thought that maybe he had run into a window. I have a hard time believing that a bird is anything but the most annoying kind of cheerfully optimistic. I think it would be too depressing to a bird to think they had striven to protect their family and their toil and suffering had been meaningless. So, I hope when he got home that afternoon, his mom smoothed down his feathers and played along (because moms always know better about things like that) and said something comforting like, "Aw, you poor, poor dear. I'm so glad you saved us from that nasty bird. Would you like some hot chocolate?"

Verbal Faux Pas

2007-11-07T10:57:00.000-05:00

To Brighten Your Day

"Whenever I watch TV and see those poor starving kids all over the world, I can't help but cry. I mean I'd love to be skinny like that, but not with all those flies and death and stuff." -Mariah Carey

"Smoking kills. If you're killed, you've lost a very important part of your life," - Brooke Shields, during an interview to become spokesperson for federal anti-smoking campaign.

"I've never had major knee surgery on any other part of my body," -Winston Bennett, University of Kentucky basketball forward

"Outside of the killings, Washington has one of the lowest crime rates in the country," -Mayor Marion Barry, Washington, DC.

"It isn't pollution that's harming the environment. It's the impurities in our air and water that are doing it." -Al Gore, Former Vice President

"I love California. I practically grew up in Phoenix " -Dan Quayle

"We've got to pause and ask ourselves: How much clean air do we need?" -Lee Iacocca

"The word 'genius' isn't applicable in football. A genius is a guy Like Norman Einstein." -Joe Theisman, NFL football quarterback & sports analyst.

"Your food stamps will be stopped effective March 1992 because we received notice that you passed away. May God bless you. You may reapply if there is a change in your circumstances." -Department of Social Services, Greenville, South Carolina

"Traditionally, most of Australia's imports come from overseas." -Keppel Enderbery

"If somebody has a bad heart, they can plug this jack in at night as they go to bed and it will monitor their heart throughout the night. And the next morning, when they wake up dead, there'll be a record." -Mark S. Fowler, FCC Chairman

Garbage Day In Blackhawk

2007-10-24T15:22:00.000-04:00

Garbage day in the Blackhawk subdivision is stressful. First of all, our neighborhood is one of the old neighborhoods in Fort Wayne. Not really, really old, but old enough that most of the houses have had several owners. All the trees are grown up (except the two that we planted this year in our yard and our neighbors down the street also planted a few too), and you might get the impression that many kids have also grown up there. I mention all this to impress upon you that our neighborhood is a bit in the style of the old-order associations. The association is a little “roll your eyes” kind of controlling. They’re not crazy controlling, but they definitely have standards to adhere to. For an example, a home-owner is not allowed to add-on to their house without getting the plan signed by the association. Sidewalks must be cleared, it has also been “suggested” that exterior lights should be turned on at dusk.

Homeowners in the Blackhawk subdivision are the kind of people who generally keep their homes up. Pretty much the worst thing you’ll see there is random junk laying in people’s backyards (if you have a view into other people’s backyards), or a small smattering of those holiday blow-up things that people put in their front yard. But generally speaking, everyone’s yards are neat, and trim, and most people even weed-whack the edges of their side walk to make the grass straight. And this is exactly to the liking of the association.

You may be wondering what this has to do with garbage day. What could garbage day do to disrupt the quiet solemnity of this organized neighborhood? Would it be ridiculous to say that garbage day is the most stressful day of our week? Is it wrong to wish that garbage day would be reorganized? Perhaps by the association - who can mandate when people are to turn on their lights and how they are to redecorate their homes - should be in charge of garbage day. Maybe I should explain why garbage day is so stressful.

For Northeast Fort Wayne, garbage pick-up is on Wednesdays. I’m not sure what time the trucks leave the land-fill, but I can imagine that it must be pretty early, because they come in to Blackhawk between seven and eight, which either means we’re the first neighborhood on their route or they start very early in the morning. In fact, they have been known to come so early that the nine-to-fivers (like Brian and I) have to take our garbage to the curb the night before. Which frankly, with Tuesday evening activities and such, we hardly ever remember to run the garbage out to the end of the drive. So, on a number of occasions we have missed garbage day all together. Normally, this is no trial to two people (but I can imagine that to have children in diapers it would absolutely critical for the garbage to be taken away every seven days - if not before). But at times it has been an enormous inconvenience. Especially with the amount of redecorating we’ve done. After a few of these times, Brian and I have become very skilled at hearing the dump truck driving down the street in our sleep. We have been known to fly out of bed (mid-dream) and race to the curb with our garbage can and socks in all sorts of weather to beat the truck. Sometimes we do beat the truck, but sometimes by the time the truck is close enough to wake the residents in neighboring houses, it is too late, and we are standing at the end of our drive with a full can of garbage in our socks, and with our hearts thumping against our chests like hearts thump when they are woken from a sweet sleep to be exercised mercilessly.

After the dump truck goes through, the neighborhood looks like a garbage can massacre. Cans are turned on their sides, or upside-down. Often they are left sprawled across the drives. Sometimes they’re clutching precariously to the edge of the curb as though they may fall into the road at any moment. Our normally peaceful subdivision with its unassuming grown trees and happy children skipping to the school bus is left looking like a garbage can war-zone in which our garbage cans have definitely lost the good fight.

So, perhaps it’s time for a garbage revolution. A new regime, so to speak. A removal (no pun intended) of the old system and the implementation of a new system. So, perhaps in the upcoming mayoral election I’ll vote “garbage reform”.

Raise Your Hand If You Like Thanksgiving

2007-10-16T13:47:00.000-04:00

I wish Thanksgiving decorations were as fun (by "fun" I mean sparkly) as Christmas decorations. And I wish Thanksgiving had more (or any) cool music like Christmas does, because I love Thanksgiving. I love the turkey, I love the stuffing, I love the pumpkin pie, I love the apple pie, I love, love, love Thanksgiving. I love how you can get together with your family and get a day off of work to do so.

This year Brian's birthday is on Thanksgiving (the last time Brian's birthday was on Thanksgiving was the year we were at Michigan State together). Which I love. I wish my birthday would be on Thanksgiving, but it doesn't seem like there's a whole lot you want to give thanks for in the middle of January. Mostly, in January you just want to get from your car to your door as quickly as humanly possible (without, of course, slipping on the ice and breaking your tail bone).

When I worked at HoneyBaked Ham, we thought of Thanksgiving as a warm-up for Christmas. Since Christmas at HBH, lasted about 20 days, we had to start getting ready for it before Thanksgiving. Once we were all set up for Christmas, Thanksgiving would strike, and we would see all the flaws in our systems, and have a week or so to correct them before we started in on Christmas. The week before Thanksgiving week was always busy setting up, putting things away, ordering extra stuff, etc. etc. One year it took all day and two employees to rearrange the walk-in freezer to accommodate all the Thanksgiving and Christmas frozen side dishes. After a few years of this continuous activity between Thanksgiving and Christmas, I came to think of Thanksgiving as Pre-Christmas too.

I don't really have much of a point to this story except to say that now that I don't work in a seasonal business (in which most of the business is done between my two favorite holidays), I am excited for Thanksgiving. Brian and my 2 year anniversary of our engagement is the day after Thanksgiving, Brian's birthday, super awesome holiday, turkey... Really, it's all very wonderful. So, cheer if you love Thanksgiving.

Love-Bug Underpants

2007-10-09T13:43:00.001-04:00

When I taught at Brown Mackie College, I always tried to prove to the students that if they’re interested and passionate in their studies they would remember better. To prove this I would pick out a person in the class and say, “What were you wearing last Wednesday?” Without fail, they could never remember. Then I would say, “What were you wearing when you got your first kiss?” And again, without fail, they would remember. I would get answers like, “I was wearing a blue dress with lace around the sleeves, and I had my hair in a sideways pony tail, and my lucky bracelet and these really cool electric blue hoop earrings…” And the whole class would laugh, and I would say something about how when you engage your emotions, it makes it more memorable. So, if you’ve attached something important (in this case – your first kiss) to something unimportant (what you were wearing), you’ll remember it longer.

I mention this because yesterday my 7-year-old nephew received his first kiss. It was at school and a little girl called him over and when he went over to see what she wanted, she leaned over and kissed him. The action itself was so ordinary (in a cute kid sort of way), but there is so much more to the story.

As an aside, my dad has been a little tense about the middle finger on his right hand. He had gotten something stuck in it (like wire), and it caused a raging infection that landed him in the hospital for several days. Since getting out of the hospital, it’s been pretty touch-and-go, and yesterday he found out that it looks like the infection has now spread to the bone. Not the news anyone was hoping to hear, and since he narrowly escaped the removal of the finger before, everyone is now concerned that it will have to be amputated this time. As you can imagine, this has been pretty stressful. So, when they got home last night, and found that they had three messages from Clark to call him back, they were more than happy to have an excuse not to think about it for a while.

So, they called Clark, who was very anxiously waiting to tell them the news of his love-life. After gushing all the details; my dad was feeling a little more cheerful. So, when they said good-bye, my dad jokingly said, “Well, sleep tight; don’t let the love-bug bite.”

“The what??”

“The love-bug.”

“Hey! I bet that’s why Gracie kissed me! I’m wearing my love-bug underpants that grandma gave me for Valentine’s Day!”

So, I guess it’s good to know that when Clark gets to college and an instructor asks him what he was wearing when he had his first kiss, that he’ll have an interesting answer. Because, there’s absolutely no way he’ll ever forget that. It’s also makes me chuckle to think of an adult saying in front of class of his peers, “I was wearing love-bug underpants!”

Happy Shopping, Merry Christmas

2007-10-02T13:11:00.000-04:00

An Aside: I thought I had hit a blogging wall. Not just any blogging wall, but the kind that makes you close down your blog. But then today, inspiration struck, and the first thought I had was, "I need to blog this." And that's when I realized that no matter how out of fashion blogs get, and no matter how little I have to write about, I will still need a public space to announce my nonsense (otherwise I might take to the streets).

I have been noticing lately how busy I am. Which is a strange thing for me, since I usually don't notice how busy I am until I'm sick and in bed. But it was on the 3rd or 4th call to members of my family about Thanksgiving plans that I thought, "I don't know if I have time to be doing this right now." I was driving to tutoring (which I do every other Monday night, or so) from work, and every 38 seconds (a rough estimate) I was hanging up my cell, and calling a different member of my family to frantically say, "I talked to Lisa, and she said that won't work, so how about Sunday night?... Maybe?.... OK." *click* *dial* "Peggy said Sunday. What? Well, cancel it!... OK." *click* *dial*.... It was while I was waiting at a four way stop, and for someone to consult their calendar that it struck me that we hadn't drawn names for Christmas presents yet.

I say "yet", because normally this is done in September, and yesterday was October 1st. My brother, Jeff doesn't believe in drawing names before Thanksgiving (apparently it's more challenging for him to get into the Christmas spirit in 85 degree weather, than it is for me and my sisters). When we were kids, we used to not tell each other who we had, and it was always a "big surprise" on Christmas morning. But it was always really hard to keep it a secret (especially for me because I still have a hard time keeping a good secret - hence the blog). Especially when you're expected to keep the secret from the beginning of August until the end of December. Jeff was also opposed to any of us "forgetting" to keep it a secret (I don't think he's a fan of the entire process - except the getting gifts part, of course). If we were going to keep it a secret, doggonit, the people who wanted to draw names in August (Lisa and I) had better keep it zipped all the way to December 25th. We've since dropped the "secret" part, but we never dropped the "doing it early" part (a compromise). However, this year, as I was talking on my phone on October the 1st, I thought that we were cutting it unnecessarily close. After all, there are only 85 more shopping days before Christmas.

So, I got the "go ahead" yesterday to draw names for Christmas (Margo gave permission for Jeff - she said she just won't tell him until after Thanksgiving, I got Peggy's permission, and Lisa is up for drawing names after the Fourth of July). So, on my lunch break, I called Lisa and we drew names for Christmas. Kate (an unbiased 3rd party) drew them. She has a genius for name drawing, because she got it on the first try. Normally, we have to draw names at least a three or four times to make sure that no one either has themselves nor their spouse. But Kate! On the first try she got it right! A prodigy. She even worked through her initial confusion about whether or not these squares of paper were tickets, and what they were tickets for.

So, we're ready for anther Christmas at the Waibels. Well, as long as we can squeeze our shopping into 85 days. Thanksgiving, on the other hand, is still undecided.

I'm Going Back To School

2007-09-14T13:01:00.001-04:00

Ok, so most of you know this already, but I'm all the sudden really excited about it. I think it's just because it's fall and because I've started tutoring again (tutoring always gets me in the mood to be in school). The problem is, I don't start until April. April is a long time from now. But I've been thinking about this lately, because I've been stressed out about work a lot. Brian thinks it's just because I don't really have anything else to be stressed about and I'm the kind of person who tends to be stressed out whether or not I have a reason to be. So, being a bit of a "stress ball", when I don't really have a whole lot to worry about, I take it out on the most worrisome thing in my life - which in this case, is work. So (sorry for the tangent, back on track now), I've been stressed at work lately, so I've been thinking back over the last zillion jobs that I've had (I've worked all my life), and the few I've had since I got out of college. And I've decided that there are two kinds of people in this world: those who prefer school, and those who prefer to work. I am becoming more and more convinced that I'm a school person. I think that's why teaching appeals to me so much. It's because if I can't be going to a school, at least I'd be in a school. I don't know why this is. (I'm kind of just rambling.) Anyway, I like the job I have now. Besides being periodically stressful (which I think that's the nature of jobs in general), it's a good job, and much more often than not, I'm allowed to put it away and not to worry about it once I've left (which is more than one can usually ask for in a job). So, I don't want to complain, really, I think I'm just saying, for the record, that I'm excited to be back in school. I'm not really doing anything significant in school. I'm just getting my teaching certificate (it's even a pretty short program), but I'm pretty pumped anyway. Maybe I'm a career malcontent. That may be more likely than I care to admit. Since I've been working since before (long before - actually) I was 16 (one of the joys of having a self-employed dad), I feel like I've had about a thousand different jobs, with a thousand different bosses, in a thousand different industries. Which, now that I've written that sentence I don't remember what I was getting at. But, I've done a lot of different things, and all of them (even the ones I've liked a lot) remind me that we all earn our money by "the sweat of our brow." So, yeah, all that babble to announce that I'm going back to school, I'm looking forward to it, I start in April, and I'll be in the Transition to Teaching program. There, I've said it. Now I'm done.

EARTH-SHATTERING NEWS!

2007-08-28T13:07:00.000-04:00

OK, so we don't have any earth-shattering news. I just thought I'd say that and see if people are intrigued. Feel free to let me know [shameless plug to see who all is reading my blog] if it worked.

BUT! I do have some news items. If there is new that can shatter the earth, our news could probably shatter an egg shell (if even that exciting), but here is our news anyway.

I finished the quilting on a quilt for a friend's baby. I'm trying to decide if I should post pictures, because I haven't given the quilt to said friend (since I have to do the binding yet). I'm pretty pleased with how it turned out. It's fun. And I'm hoping it won't be "weird". I don't have a great sense of what is weird and what isn't (I blame band-camp). Brian doesn't think it's weird (Brian's pretty much the least weird person I've ever met), so that's promising.
We're kinda getting ready to redo our three-seasons room. There are a few things that we haven't really decided on yet, but we have mostly decided to tile it and put down a huge throw rug. Anyway, we got a great wood-burning stove, which we're putting in the three-seasons room to make it less like a three-seasons room and more like a four-seasons room.

We went to look at Trent and Heidi's puppies. Their Chocolate Lab had puppies with what they believe to be a Border Collie. Anyway, we liked them very much. They're super cute. This is a picture of one of Trent and Heidi's sons with the one that we liked. Her name currently is Spooky. They're really funny because they will just be walking around "do-do-do" and all the sudden plop over and fall instantly to sleep. LOL! So cute. Anyway, we're in discussion about whether this is a good time for another puppy. However, as Brian's mom once said (and is my attitude), "Puppies are so much work and you'll have rearrange your schedule to take it out and they're messy... get one anyway." LOL!

My headache that I had had since the beginning of last week has gone away. Yessss. At first I thought it might just be that there was a lot going on at work and no recoup time, but now I think I actually had a bug because Brian now has an awful headache and has been dizzy and nauseated (other symptoms of my headache).

That's it.

I Wish...

2007-08-24T13:15:00.000-04:00

I had something even remotely interesting to report (but no new puppies, no big house projects, etc)
Nail polish lasted longer than 24 hours before the chipping begins (I have gross nails. They're peely and shaped weird, and I used nail polish to try to keep the chipping down, but when the polish starts chipping too... oh the struggle!)
That I hadn't just eaten a couple thousand calories of Mexican food, I'm feeling really sorry about that
It was Labor Day weekend (fortunately for me, that's coming up really quickly)
My cell phone would stay charged for more than a twenty minute call (of course, I don't ever really charge it all the way, just in the car on the way home from work, so yeah... I should probably work on that)

Wow, I think that must be all my wishes! I'm not doing too bad if I've only got five...

The Yucca

2007-08-16T12:55:00.000-04:00

We have a Yucca plant. We didn’t know we had a Yucca plant until the re-landscaping party we had this spring during which we pulled up a bush on the corner of our house. Lurking under the bush was the Yucca.

The Yucca was fortunate at that point that Brian was standing next to me. As soon as we saw it growing there on the corner of our living room, my face fell. I start motioning to the guys who had just unearthed the bush to follow the same procedure with the Yucca. But when I turned to my husband, I realized that his face had responded in an opposite way. His hand was motioning to brush the extra dirt off the leaves. As it was 4:30 in the afternoon, and everyone’s nails were in shreds and muscles likewise, the Yucca stayed in the corner by our living room.

The Yucca plant, for those of you who are blithely unaware, is desert plant, and – like most desert plants – is more interesting than attractive. It has hard, tall, extremely pointy evergreen leaves that stick out in a ball. The leaves have little tendrils growing off of it. I’m not sure what those are or why they are, but the plant continuously looks unkempt.

As you can probably construe, I don’t like the Yucca. I justified keeping the Yucca by the thought that we had purchased scads of wonderfully beautiful plants, and what, in the scheme of things, could one Yucca do spoil the whole landscape? Besides, Brian liked it and wanted to keep it, and I thought he might as well enjoy it while it lasted since a Yucca could not possibly subsist in the mid-west where it rains much more than a desert plant may desire.

Unfortunately, it has been one of the hottest, driest summers in Indiana history, and the Yucca, instead of being a backdrop for all the lovely plants we so fervently planted, is now the showcase piece in a flower bed of mostly dead plants. It has more than doubled its size now that it’s in the sun, and has even started new Yuccas in the area around it. It’s like a disease. A big Yucca disease.

So, I’m now auctioning about 7 Yuccas. The little ones, I’m starting at $.10. The big mother of all other Yuccas I will starting at $.50. Yuccas do best in areas where they are unwanted, and since the whole country is hot and dry right now, any continental United States region will most likely support growth.*

*Yucca is not guaranteed to arrive or transplant in good heath. Yucca may blemish verdant landscaping schemes. All sales are final.

Homesick

2007-08-13T13:04:00.000-04:00

Homesickness is a funny thing.

I was one of those little kids who started saying from age 4 or 5 that I was going to move to California. And I meant it. My life kind of revolved around that dream. Even in my young adulthood I wouldn't take a job that wouldn't be able to transfer me California at some point. I was the kind of kid that was always trying on her mom's high heels, apparently looking for some place to go. Before I was sixteen I had dreams (literally, in-my-sleep dreams) about driving because I was so excited to learn how to drive.

I think I'm just one of those people who is always looking to the next thing. All winter I said that I can't wait for summer and then last week on the way to church I told Brian that I can't wait until Christmas (at which point he told me to enjoy the summer for which I waited so anxiously). I think I just push. I'm always looking forward to the next thing. I'm always curious about what's going to happen next. I'm a wings person. There are roots people and there are wings people, and I'm a wings person.

When I worked for the government, it didn't occur to me to dislike living out of a suitcase from traveling any and every where until Brian and I got engaged and I had a reason to want to stay in the area. I'm a wings sort of person.

It is a mystery then, how someone, who has spent their entire life actively seeking the next step forward, is now wanting to step back. I am so homesick. I think about us moving back to Michigan all the time. We went back to my parents a couple of weeks ago and ever since I just keep looking for ways to make moving back a reality. It's strange. I've spent my whole life wishing I wasn't in Michigan and now it's the only place I want to be. Maybe it's just all part of it. I just wasn't expecting to feel this way. Weird. It is potentially a phase, and if it's not, maybe we should honestly think about it. We'll see. But in the meantime, if you see me or talk to me on the phone or communicate with me in any way expect me to mention something about being homesick. Because I am. And I don't stuff very well (obviously, I just told the entire world that I'm homesick). :)

Notes Since My Last Post

2007-07-31T13:48:00.000-04:00

I finished my book. You know, the one with the 1940’s clichés. It made me want to hang out with Brian until he was sick of me in case something awful happened and he had to go to war (but he assured me that he’s too old to get drafted, even if they reinstate the draft – which, in retrospect, he may have said to get me to stop clinging to him).
Sam’s better. He ate a ton of food on Sunday, and even a little grass, and didn’t puke (which even when he’s healthy, grass sometimes makes him puke – so gross). Anyway, another sign that Sammers is doing well is that he’s obnoxious again. Which, ironically, is a little relieving.
I got to see my friend, Jenny (from Battle Creek), yesterday. It was good to see her, the last time I saw her was for about 3 seconds at our wedding (not a time to sit, chat, and catch up). It made me realize how much I miss working there. Not for the work, but for the people. I had some great co-workers. Not that I don’t now, because I do, I guess I just miss them.
I did four loads of laundry last night. Ugh. And folded and hung up most of it. Double Ugh. But it’s done now and hopefully I won’t have to worry about it again until next week.
We’re going to Pinconning this weekend. I’m very, very happy about that. It’s been a long time, and I’m definitely due for a Purtell’s chocolate shake (for those of you who don’t know what Purtell’s is – it is only the best greasy spoon in American history). I also think I’m going to go to Fabric Fair and pick up the quilt fabric I’ve been coveting since the last time I was at Fabric Fair (before I learned how to quilt).
Speaking of quilting. In between loads of wash, I was working on my second quilt when I realized that I’m about 1/8 of a yard short of one of the fabrics. Annoying. Now, there’s nothing else I can do until I go to the store and get literally 2.5 more inches of fabric.
We’re out of popcorn. It’s amazing how you want things that you normally don’t when they’re not available. Brian always wants popcorn, and has been really craving it, and I’ve been craving since we’ve been out, and well… I guess we just need to get some popcorn.

The New Name Dropping

2007-07-27T16:49:00.000-04:00

OK, so I’m reading a book named “Dream When You’re Feeling Blue” by Elizabeth Berg, and it’s good and everything, but I’ve noticed a few annoying trends. If you read novels, maybe you’ve noticed it too. “Dream When You’re Feeling Blue” is about an Irish family who lives in Chicago during the Second World War, and they have three daughters who have various boys in various parts of the world all of whom are fighting the bad guys. Anyway, I’m sure it’s very touching and all, but it’s kind of annoying me because the author drops little lines using 1940’s language. It’s kind of like name-dropping. I think it’s like she’s trying to prove that she did enough research to know all the slang that was used in the 40’s.

I call this the new name-dropping because when you read novels from that time period, they used slang, but sparingly, just like how authors now use slang sparingly. I mean, sometimes, more slang is needed to get the point across, but in general, people write much better than they speak (which says scary things about the way some people speak). Anyway, you can tell that someone isn’t from that culture when they use tons of slang. Like how you can tell when someone’s not famous because they name-drop. You know I’m not famous because I always say things like I know one of the writers for the show “Desperate Housewives”. If I were famous I wouldn’t talk about knowing him because it wouldn’t matter. I mean, if I were an actress in Hollywood, of course I would know the writers of major shows.

So, here I am reading this book. And I’m trying not to notice when things are said like, “Kitty smiled; this one was what Julian would call ‘khaki wacky’. But he would also say she was Able-Grable. A blackout girl. A dilly. Good-looking, in other words (pg. 37, Dream When You’re Feeling Blue).” OK, so that’s four phrases right in a row, and the whole book is like that. *gasp for breath after tirade*

But other than that, it’s enjoyable.

Oh, and the other thing that’s annoying is this lady is on the New York Times Best-Seller list (for other novels) and I want to say, “Don’t try so hard, chick! You’ve made it! Just write nice stories!”

I’m done now.

Quilt!

2007-07-26T12:43:00.000-04:00

Here is my quilt, I call it.... uh (gotta quick think of a name - did you ever notice that everything good has a name?).... I call it "Tickled Pink". Next time I'm going to have to take a picture of it all spread out, but I didn't want to when I took this one because I was too lazy.

Sick Dog = Nothing Getting Done

2007-07-26T11:37:00.001-04:00

I Don't Do Dog Dying Stories

2007-07-23T11:51:00.000-04:00

So, I was going to post pictures of my quilt (which I finished last week) for my next post, but instead I’m going to tell you about Sam.

So, Sam had the stomach flu this past week. I came home from work one day and he had vomited all over his room and had had a little diarrhea. Which was not fun to clean up. So, I cleaned it up and Sam was still bouncing around and looking pretty normal so I thought he was probably OK, but I called the vet anyway. The vet said to withhold food for about 24 hours from the last time that he vomited and to give him rice and either cottage cheese or boiled hamburger (a bland diet) after that. So, that’s what we did. And he didn’t throw up or have any more bouts with diarrhea so we thought he was fine.

On Friday after work I came home and Brian said that Sam had been sick again. Ugh. We were hoping that he was healing, but apparently not. So, that evening we kind of watched him and he was refusing food (which tipped us off since he’s such normally an annoying little beggar). So, after tucking him into bed and hoping he’d be better in the morning, we looked online to see if there was anything else we could do for him.

Saturday morning he was not better, so we took him to the vet who had appointments all morning but she kinda glanced at him and said that he still looked pretty good, and if we saw this, this or this to take him to the pet ER, but otherwise she could squeeze us in first thing Monday morning. We were pretty satisfied with that, so we went home.

We were home for a couple of hours when Sam started vomiting blood, which scared the poop (I guess the word “poop” is probably inappropriate in this particular post) out of me because I had read online that bloody vomit or diarrhea were often symptoms of cancer in the stomach.

So, as I’m cleaning it up, I’m sobbing thinking that we were going to go to the ER and not come home with our dog. So, Brian came and cleaned up and told me to get Sam in the car and he’d be out and we’d go to the ER. It was very nice of him.

Off we went to the ER where we sat (just like a human ER) for a long time. Meanwhile, Sam is losing energy by the second and was even having a hard time getting up to walk around. Well, eventually the vet came in and looked at him and they ran some blood-work and she was happy to report that Sam did not have a tumor but that he just had been sick long enough that his intestines were so irritated that they were bleeding. Phew. So, she gave him some fluids and some antibiotics and sent Sam home to rest and get better.

That evening Sam was still really, really sick. He couldn’t go up and down stairs (which if you know Sam, you know that that is extreme). We had to carry him around. The fluids that they gave him they inserted under his skin so it looked like he had a pack of water on his back, which also made him top heavy (poor guy), so that didn’t help much with the moving around either.

Sunday morning was more of the same. Sam was really weak and not wanting to do anything, but he did let us feed him his medication and about a tablespoon of food. When we came home from church it was about the same and I went to get him some Pepcid and while I was gone, Brian said he just came to life. It was kind of weird, but while I was gone he started wanting to get up and play and when I came home he was downstairs and he bounded up the stairs two at a time to come to the door. So, I think it’s safe to say that Sam is on the mend.

I know I’ve gone way over what I normally consider to be “proper” blog entry length. However, I found this weekend to be very insightful on several different levels. First of all, I know that Brian is the absolute perfect person for me, but sometimes it is just so clear how we are two parts of the same unit, and this weekend was one of those times. He was great and I thank God for him. Also, I know I’m crazy about my dog, but I realized that it is the same instinct that makes me crazy about my dog that will make me crazy about my kids when (or if) we are ever able to have kids. Sometimes I think that since I’m not one of those baby magnets (I can make a baby cry faster than anyone I have ever met) that I will have trouble with kids, but after this weekend I realized that I’ll be OK – we’ll be OK. I also was reminded of God’s kindness. Often I feel like my problems are insignificant (in light of the world’s suffering). I sometimes feel kind of frivolous for praying for God to heal my dog when there are children out there dying of all kinds of curable diseases. But Jesus said not even a sparrow would fall to the ground without His noticing. It was just a reminder He loves all His little creatures (probably even the mean ones like mosquitoes and rattle snakes). So, I think He must love Sammers. Probably even more than I do. And so I want to thank Him for having mercy on my poor, sick little puppy. He is so generous. So, today, things are back to normal (ish). Phew. What a weekend.

Wally World '07

2007-07-13T12:15:00.000-04:00

For those of you who don't know: to my family, who are mostly Michigan die-hard Meijer fans, "Wally World" is not a reference to Walmart, it refers to the family reunion we have every fourth and fifth of July. The name "Wally World" is an pet name for the reunion, named affectionately after my uncle, Wally, who is kind enough to host it every year.

TIP:
Sixty people can not consume an entire vat of potato salad (made with an entire jar of mayo, a dozen eggs, and 10 pounds of potatoes – and random other things).

RECIPE FOR "CRABBY" MOOD:
1 cracked muffler
1 crowded beach
1 family not where we thought they’d be
1 set of un-followable directions from a gas station attendant
2 out-of-area cell phones

LOST AND FOUND:
I found several items (including my hat and my bowl) on the “lost and found” table this year. However, my Aunt Helen could not have possibly lost her camera since she had written her name on it (which I found amusing because it was a $7 disposable camera).

OBSERVATION:
Cheering during my uncle’s fireworks display is both certain and constant. However, two events seem to more produce more fervent praise. These occasions are (in no particular order): any time a new kind of firework is introduced, and any time a “dud” firework sparks on the grass (apparently we have a few pyros in the group).

GUARANTEED KID ENTERTAINMENT:
Frogs from the pond
GUARANTEED ADULT SHOW STOPPER:
Snakes from the pond (though no less entertaining to the children)

ON SLIDE SHOWS:
You know that photography has swelled to enormous proportions when in the evening after being with each other for less than eight full hours there is a 300+ picture slide-show of the events of the day.

MOST COMICAL MOMENT:
When applause exploded for the waitress who declared to the 50 or so of us at breakfast on the 5th that she thinks she’s got everyone’s order. After the cheering had died my cousin, Jake, shouted, “We’re Waibel’s, we cheer about everything!”

Summer

2007-07-09T11:29:00.000-04:00

Isn't she about the cutest thing ever?

Busy, Busy

2007-07-02T13:39:00.000-04:00

On Saturday, Brian was busy fixing our hot tub (yeahhh!) when we got a call from my brother Jeff, who said that he and Margo were at the hospital and Margo had the baby and it's a girl and her name is Summer (pictures soon). Summer is very cute. Probably one of the cutest babies ever (I'm not being proud, I'm just stating the facts). Then my mom and sister, Peggy called, saying that since Summer had been born they were coming down with my dad and my niece, Hallie, to see her and that they intended to stay with us (mind you by this time we were getting ready to go out for our anniversary). So, we ran around like chickens with our heads cut off making our house "Mom Appropriate" (doing the dishes, and throwing out last weeks newspapers, and folding all the laundry and such). Then we left for probably one of the best meals of my life at a little Italian hole-in-the-wall downtown called the Italian Connection. The family that owns said hole-in-the-wall is actually Italian and make their own pasta from scratch. It was great. Then, when we got back home, my family was on their way over from the hospital (which had closed) and wanted to go out for ice cream.

So, yesterday we frantically went and bought Summer a present and went to see her at the hospital. She's very, very cute. We went to dinner with the fam and then went back home where Brian worked on the hot tub some more and I watched TV for a while.

Today is actually our anniversary, so tonight we plan on relaxing. We're not even going out to eat because we want to just sit at home and do nothing for an entire evening. Maybe we'll have a little bubbly, maybe we'll pop a little popcorn, maybe we'll have a fire (it's been cold the last couple of days!). But regardless, we're just going to relax. Maybe Brian will be able to get the hot tub up and running and then we may sit in that until we turn to prunes with our popcorn.

Anyway, I will have pictures of Summer very soon (she's really cute).

Things I Learned at High School Girls’ Camp ‘07

2007-06-25T17:00:00.000-04:00

“Girls’ camp is not a diet camp.” The food is really, really good and expected to be eaten.
Four inch Stiletto heals do not a great camp shoe choice when it has rained the entire weekend.
Two hours of sleep a night is enough when you’ve spent the other four hours of non-sleep praying that you’ll make it through the next day (the pop and candy helped too).
If you can unwrap a Starburst in your mouth you will be a good kisser (I don’t know if this is true or not because I was not about to try this in front of the 15 year-old girls who told me about it and who spent the rest of the weekend practicing this technique).
When it takes a pair of jeans 32 hours to dry, it is humid.
When your husband tells you (on a 95 degree day) to pack a sweatshirt to head south, listen to him.
Showering at camp is a useless activity.

Various Things

2007-06-20T12:43:00.000-04:00

I spelled my maiden name incorrectly on a request for my MSU transcripts. That's weird considering, I've only been married for a year (which should not be long enough to forget 25 years worth of writing my last name on everything). My excuse? I was typing and I claim it to be a typo.
I've officially over-booked myself (again). This weekend is girl's camp and so I'm leaving tomorrow and coming home on Sunday night. Between tonight and tomorrow I have promised to make something for a friend for lunch serving (which should be #1 priority since I promised that first), make chicken salad for Brian to eat while I'm gone, get presents/decor for girls camp (which - incidentally I totally didn't even think about doing before), pack, finish the laundry (which I'm embarrassed to say has gotten completely out of control since I haven't really finished the laundry in about 2 weeks, so now we have stacks and stacks and stacks of folded laundry all over the laundry room because I like folding, and hate putting it away), and do the Bible Study for girls camp.
I've been really tired lately. I'm feeling a little better today. But very tired and confused and not very "with the program". It's kinda maddening. I blame the weather (Heaven forbid I take responsibility for going to bed late and over-booking myself. lol).
We went to the Rib Fest this past weekend. Awesome. Then we left and got ice cream (actually frozen custard).
Our first year anniversary is in 12 days. Can't believe it's been a year already. Whoa. And yet sometimes it feels like we've been together our whole lives (in a good way). I would tell you all what I got Brian, but he reads my blog (and actually might be scouring it right now for clues). So, I guess you'll have to find out after he does. I'm really proud of it. hehe. I love surprises (I just stink at keeping surprises surprises).
Margo is due next Saturday. I'm pretty pumped about that. I can't wait to hear their name. I have an obsession with names.

I Wasn't Going To Gloat But....

2007-06-12T19:26:00.000-04:00

I'm feeling quite smug. This evening I did two things for the first time (in my life) and I did it by myself. First of all, I lit a charcoal grill (this is a feat for anyone who has never tried to light a charcoal grill without lighter-fluid). And I stopped the toilet from running. And now Brian is on his way home to eat juicy hamburgers and American Fries in the blissful peace of not having to pay a high water bill. Yep. I'm feeling pretty cool right about now.

The Toaster

2007-06-07T16:01:00.000-04:00

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about our toaster. It troubles me. First, let me explain that our toaster is the nicest looking toaster on the shelf. It is stainless steel, and is curved at the crown. It also has various different settings (one for a bagel, one for frozens, one for warming, etc). It is a very handsome toaster. Unfortunately, now that it’s ornaments my kitchen (where it recoils behind our microwave – which is also nice-looking and is much less troubling), I mistrust several features.

First of all, with the experience of an 11-month homemaker, I can confidently declare that 2 slots are not enough slots in a toaster. We justified it for two reasons: first, the 4-slot toasters were a little too “magnificent” for our space; and secondly, because we’re only two people and two people can only eat two pieces of toast at one time, right? Wrong. As I found out last night (which was our first BLT night of the summer), 2 people can easily eat 4 pieces of toast at a time. And besides, having a two-slotted toaster leaves one with no latitude when one has company for breakfast (or for BLTs).

Another vexation I have with my toaster is the browning factor. It seems as though if one would like his/her toast to not be toast at all, but soft bread, or if one would like his/her toast to be charcoal, our toaster would be satisfactory. My grandmother, for an example, liked her toast to be quite crisp and I am persuaded within myself that she would have no objections about our toaster. But for those who prefer to have their toast lightly browned on both sides and still soft on the inside, our toaster would be found to be insufficient.

This morning, after having an altercation with the toaster last night and still having feelings of ill-will toward it, I timed it to see how long it took to “toast” my bread. It took four minutes. Four minutes in the morning violates my very calculated schedule.

So, in short, I’m selling a toaster. One very nice-looking toaster that either warms or chars (and indeed does both very well). I will sell my toaster to the highest bidder. I set the low bid at 50 cents.

My Fourth Most Expensive Purchase

2007-05-29T13:35:00.000-04:00

I'm not counting, of course, the mortgage which I'm still technically not on yet. So, besides that item, the most expensive thing I've ever purchased was my $10,000 car. Not a ridiculous or frivolous expense by any stretch. Most Americans would be ashamed to sit the drivers seat of a car that only cost $10,000.

The next most expensive purchase I bought was my wedding dress which sat on my credit card for one week before getting paid off by my mom. So, that doesn't really count either.

When I was in high school, I bought a keyboard instead of getting a class ring. So, my parents chipped in a couple hundred bucks, and I saved (with much sweat and blood) another 300 and my second most expensive purchase was a really sweet keyboard, which later became the dustiest surface in my apartment and then sat in a box after a move for months and was finally borrowed to someone who actually took it out of the box and *gasp* actually used it.

My fourth most expensive purchase was this past weekend. And it was my bike. Yes, we finally broke down and got my bike. It's pretty much awesome. Brian wouldn't let me get one of those awesome bike horns with the squeaky bulb on the end (apparently those lose their cool after you reach the age of eight - who knew?), so we compromised and I got a "tasteful" bell. It's really little and it has this little rubber knob that you flick and it'll ding. Quite loudly. So, I got the bell, but no basket. I have yet to come up with an excuse good enough for getting a basket (I mean besides the obvious convenience of have something in which to you put your important things i.e. a purse, a phone, a tent, etc). The one basket I want is a little white wire one. It is quite chic. But, nope. No basket. So, I have a basketless bike with a very loud (though elegant looking) bell.

Anyway, the bike rides really well. We went out for a 13 mile ride yesterday. It was pretty nice, but for some reason I was totally pooped the rest of the day. Some people were like, "of course you were pooped! You biked 13 miles!" But really, biking 13 miles isn't half as bad as you might think it is. You don't even have to try to hit 10 mph on a bike. So, really I shouldn't have been so tired. I blame the sun. I got a little pinkish (read: burnt), and you know how the sun zaps you out. So, yup. I blame the sun. I was in bed (well, not asleep but in bed with the lights out and the A/C on by 9:30). Anyway, so we're looking forward to more bike rides this summer. Brian's happy because he has his bike back (I was riding his bike) and I was happy because I had a new fourth most expensive purchase (well I wasn't happy to spend a ton of money, but I am happy that it's on something I'll actually use and not another tambourine for my collection).

I've Been Meaning To Update

2007-05-21T12:25:00.000-04:00

So, I've been meaning to update for about a week now and - obviously - I haven't. The problem is that Brian and I have a zillion pictures that I want to upload (we've finally gotten some decent use out of the nice camera Brian's parents got us for our first Christmas). But, blogger is a little sluggish with the pics and I've had a hard time having enough time to load them all. So, until I can loads some pictures I'll just tell you about what we've been up to.

Last weekend we were in Arizona. We went for Beth and Ben's convalidation. It was a really nice ceremony and we have pictures of that. While we were in Arizona we did some swimming, some shopping, some touring, some sleeping, some biking, some visiting, some churching, some eating, some crafting. It was a busy weekend. But worth it! It was a really great weekend. Poor Brian had to meet new people all weekend, but everyone made him feel at home and he had a good time too. All plane rides were uneventful (which was really nice - and slightly unexpected). On the way to PHX, we hit some turbulence and got a little car sick, but nothing major. All of our luggage was where it should have been at all times. The one glitch in the weekend was when my flip-flop broke in the middle of O'Hare airport, and Brian had to use a hat pin (that I happened to have in my purse) to fix it. That was all fine, but then when we got back to Indy, I stepped funny on my injured flip-flop and bent the pin which gauged me in the toe at which point I went bare-footed (super scary with a laceration on the bottom of my foot at the airport). So, Brian gallantly waited by himself for the luggage as I sat on a bench with my foot in my lap to keep it off the floor until I could get another pair out of my suit case.

Well, then we got home. We got home some time on Monday night and we were tired and pretty much immediately collapsed. The rest of the week we were in a cleaning/cooking frenzy because my family was coming down for my sister-in-law, Margo's, baby shower on Thursday. Then, they all promised to stay over the weekend and help us re-landscape our lawn on Saturday.

So, at 9AM on Saturday morning about 9 or so adults converged for breakfast (we made Ableskeivers - a Danish pastry, eggs, and bacon) and by 9:30 everyone was outside digging around in what appears to be the hardest clay in human history. It is very likely that the clay has actually been turned into foot deep ceramics over the year. I would jump on a shovel and - no joke - it would bounce me back off. Well, to make things horrible (because the clay isn't bad enough), we had stone flowerbeds (which I didn't like), so we had to remove three pick-ups full of stone and tear up the plastic sheets that were buried about an inch under the stones. Then we got two truckloads of top soil and put that back into our flowerbed, along with some plants here and there.

It actually turned out really cute, and I was amazed at how neighbors who have never before even waved when they drove by suddenly became friends. I think that they were grateful that we stopped ruining their resale value. :) So, now when you come to our house and we have to give you directions we won't be referring to our house as the only house on the block with only one bush in the front yard.

So, now things are back to normal.... Ish.... As normal as they're going to get. Other than the piles of towels and such that I still have to wash, I think our house is back to normal, and life is good. It's nice to have everything ugly out of the front yard, and cute little orange flowers instead. And that's about all I have to say right now. I'm going to be posting pictures of both weekends when I get a chance.

My Shoe Autobiography

2007-05-07T15:21:00.001-04:00

I read an article about young couples and their finances today. The article suggested that couples should sit down and write their own personal finance autobiography and talk about how they were raised, what they think about money, etc. They felt that exchanging these documents will help young couples learn about themselves and each other and will help them to not fight etc.

So, after reading this article, my mind strayed to last night (at 11PM) as Brian was frantically organizing my 30+ pairs of shoes. He was muttering little things to himself like, “I’m about to impale my foot on these shoes” and “why does anyone need so many shoes that look exactly the same?” This led (naturally) to a very lengthy discussion about the difference between black heels with a buckle and black heels without a buckle, and what makes a Mary Jane a Mary Jane, and why everybody needs at least one pair of Mary Janes (which is probably the point where he blacked out). So, I thought I would write a little shoe autobiography and maybe Brian would understand the roll of shoes in my life (dedicated to: my Brian. I'm glad your foot didn't get impaled on my shoes this morning).

I was raised, like most little girls, trying on shoes – especially heels. The shoe department often beckoned me, and my mom said that when I was barely old enough to walk, I would disappear and they would find me in the shoe department trying on the displays (true story).

I think the first exciting shoes I ever owned were a pair of tall boots that my mom got me to play with at a garage sale. They were black, and had tall heels and pointy toes (which ironically is back in style). At that point in my life a pair of tall boots came up to my thighs, but that was OK because the fabric was so stiff they stayed up even though my legs were little sticks with knees and toes. These boots were very important to my social status since I was automatically the coolest cousin (in our little group of cousins) on my dad’s side (which I had never been before).

My next major shoe moment was when I was the flower girl in my cousin, Wendy’s, wedding. My mom took me shoe shopping and as soon as we stopped at Kenneth Shoes, my eyes lit upon a pair of ivory shoes with a bow on the top. I could not be persuaded to leave the store without them.

My second grade teacher (Mrs. Sanak) was perhaps the best dressed woman I have ever met (she probably wasn’t but there is no convincing a little girl that lots of jewelry and good shoes doesn’t necessarily equal class). My favorite part of the week was when we had spelling tests and she would dictate words to us and walk slowly in front of the classroom with her pumps clicking on the tile and squeaking softly. Time after time, throughout my life when things seem dismal (and spelling tests seemed hard), a good shoe has given me comfort.

Once my Aunt Susie bought me a pair of black, lacy toe-peeks (so hot). I think I was a senior in high school, and I don’t know that I have ever felt so sophisticated or grown up in my entire life.

I had a pair of Candies’ dressy combat boots (basically combat boots that aren’t camo and have a heel) that I wore to church a lot when I was in college. And one evening (on our way to church) Brian commented on my boots, and how he was surprised that you could wear boots like that into a church. Looking back on it, I realize that he was probably serious, but at the time I was sure that he was teasing me because he liked me (and my boots too).

After getting lots of duplicates from our wedding, the store would only give us store credit and since it was a department store, Brian let me get a pair of Sketchers with some of the money and they have completely revolutionized my footwear. I have reintroduced the white sock to my foot wardrobe.

Yes, shoes have been important. They have clipped and clopped, and flipped and flopped at exactly the right moments. A good pair of shoes is like a good friend. Didn’t someone say that once? Err… Maybe the saying is a good friend is like a good pair of shoes. But either way, shoes are great.

Things

2007-05-02T13:35:00.000-04:00

So, I'm learning how to quilt. This may be the first topic ever that I have learned from reading the book. Mostly, in school, books were just high-priced folders that I used to hold all my notes and hand-outs from class (which is where I do about 98% of my learning). I am very pro classroom experience. I am definitely and audio learner. So, much so that unless I'm told something I very rarely remember it. I'm one of those people who can read something a million times and be dancing and singing on a flower covered meadow in my head and never remember it; and can be told something once and remember it for the rest of my life.

OK, so I'm learning quilting by reading about it. I feel like I've been doing it for years. I've read tons of ideas and different ways of doing it. So, many really clever ideas that only people that have been doing it forever know about. For an example (for non-quilters, I'll try not to use technical terms), well over half the quilting experience is actually quilting - or sewing the top of the blanket to the back. When you see quilts, this is usually what makes people oooh and aaah is looking at the intricacy of the stitching. Well, mostly people actually draw all of that on with pencils and then sew on top of the lines by hand (and sometimes machine if the pattern is easy enough). However, as you can imagine, pencil doesn't really wash out that well and then you have this amazingly beautiful white quilt with funky pencil lines all over it. So, one of the books I'm reading talked about pinning tissue paper on the top of your quilts with the pattern on the paper and then sew with the paper on and then rip it off when you're done. Isn't that clever? And speaking of quilting tools, it seems like someone out there should be making a killing packaging ordinary pencils as "quilter's pencils" or masking tape as "quilter's tape", but no one is! This is definitely a market that should be more carefully cornered.

So, last night after bike shopping, which was really fun (I found a bike, by the way, that I really like, here it is. Isn't that cute?? I love the leather on the handles and seat. Talk about stylin'!), Brian and I went to a fabric store (or rather I dragged Brian to a fabric store) and we picked out some fabric for my first ever quilt. It should be really easy. It's just squares, and really, I think I could tackle something a little more challenging, but I don't know for sure if I've learned as much as I think I've learned by reading books and looking at pictures. I did draft it myself, however, so I'm pretty proud of that. I guess I should look at it like this is my first quilt and maybe I should just try to make it happen and not worry if it's not the best thing I've ever seen in my life. Maybe I'll post pictures as I'm working on it.

Countdown

2007-05-01T11:10:00.000-04:00

Eight more days and we'll be in Arizona!

Our House

2007-04-24T21:43:00.000-04:00

Sam helping Brian with his paper work (and probably with his popcorn).

Our "beach" bathroom/laundry room

The coffee table that I tiled last year.

The guest room which looks a lot better in the sun than it does in the dark, which is ironic, because guests only sleep in it at night. Anyway, all those pictures on the wall are the center-pieces from our wedding. We have almost 100 pictures of Brian and me growing up on our walls in our guest room. My brother, Jeff calls it our ego-centric room.

Brian eating popcorn/watching TV/sorting papers/looking cute in the family room (oh! and there's Sam, biting/scratching himself)

I love this lamp. And I love those weeds. So, I had to take a picture of those, even though Sam has almost completely annihilated the weeds on the left.

Our kitchen

Our latest project was our living room. We just got our furniture a week and a half ago. Our living room has turned into the best place to sit and read. It's quiet and sunny (during the day. during a sunny day) and comfy.

Our main bathroom. This was one of the first rooms done. It was quite a project.

Sammer's room. That's his bed/kennel and his dining room, and a little library for his down-time while Brian and I are at work.

Our blue room. This is where the ironing gets done.

Our room. If you're wondering why Brian's khaki colored pillowcase (on the right side) is so pristeenly crisp and why mine is so wrinkly, it's because mine wasn't ironed.

The Goal - The Excuse

2007-04-24T11:09:00.000-04:00

The Goal:

I was talking to Beth yesterday on the phone, and we decided that I need to post pictures of our house since we have redone every room (except the three-seasons room in the back and the hallway upstairs). It has been a big project to redo this house and it seems like the majority of my conversations (the ones when I'm not talking about my health) revolve around our "projects". So, since it has been such a huge part of my life for the last year, we thought we should post pictures. The only problem with posting pictures of your house, is that if you're showing off how much you've done on your house, it should be tidy and look how you'd like it to look if you had people over.

The Excuse:

Last weekend we had people over for a cook-out, and then were busy Sunday night and last night. And we are going to Michigan on Friday night. So, Thursday night will be panicky laundry/packing and tomorrow night is church so we'll probably have tonight to make the house look tidy enough to take pictures of it (which may or may not be enough time).

But, since tonight is wide open and it may rain (hence preventing our normal bike ride), I'll probably do it tonight (or next week). Don't hold your breath, but it is coming. Hopefully sooner than later.

Misc. News Items

2007-04-19T12:18:00.000-04:00

Last night, after not eating fries hardly ever, I ate one large A&W fry and part of Brian's. Let's just say I felt ugh.
Arizona details: We're taking a long weekend in Phoenix, AZ in a couple of weeks to go to Beth and Ben's marriage blessing ceremony (there's a real name for it, I just can't recall what it's called - basically they're having their marriage blessed by the Catholic church). We're super excited (I'm excited because I'm dying see Beth and to get away from the pathetic spring we're experiencing, and Brian's excited because he's never been to Arizona). Anyway, we're both really excited. It seems like we've known that we were going for a really long time and then we got our tickets and now it seems real.
My Sudoku calendar is getting easier which leaves me to ponder if I'm getting smarter or if I've just hit an easy run.
Brian and I have started "training" to go on a long bike ride. We plan on biking from Fort Wayne to Lake James (which is 50 miles one way). We think that we can ride up one day, get a hotel, and ride back the next day. Truthfully, it will probably take more training to get to a point where the seat of the bike doesn't leave me crippled than getting my body into shape enough to handle the 50 miles. Maybe I should screw a folding chair to seat. I could sit in folding chair for 5 hours easy.
Thursday night and Saturday are designated as cleaning times. At the very least I do laundry make sure the dishwasher is empty for more than three minutes, Windex the bathrooms, but last week I missed because we spring-cleaned Sam's room (which was crazy since we use it as an attic and since Sam insists on getting food all over - I mean what does he do? Dig in it??). So, now we are running out of clean clothes and the bathroom looks like all the hair I've lost in the last month is having a reunion. So something has to be done. Fortunately, it's Thursday night. Unfortunately, I have two weeks worth to clean up in one night and Brian has a training tomorrow so when he would normally be able to do some things, he's going to be working. Oh well. Saturday's coming up too.
Tomorrow night Brooke and Vince and Brian and I are going to see a high-school play. Actually, Michelle is directing it and it's her first ever. So, that's pretty fun.

weregoingtoarizona!

2007-04-17T16:17:00.000-04:00

weregoingtoarizona! weregoingtoarizona! weregoingtoarizona! weregoingtoarizona! weregoingtoarizona! weregoingtoarizona! weregoingtoarizona! weregoingtoarizona! weregoingtoarizona! weregoingtoarizona! weregoingtoarizona! weregoingtoarizona! weregoingtoarizona! weregoingtoarizona! weregoingtoarizona! weregoingtoarizona! weregoingtoarizona! weregoingtoarizona! weregoingtoarizona! weregoingtoarizona! weregoingtoarizona! weregoingtoarizona! weregoingtoarizona! weregoingtoarizona! weregoingtoarizona! weregoingtoarizona! weregoingtoarizona! weregoingtoarizona! weregoingtoarizona! weregoingtoarizona! weregoingtoarizona! weregoingtoarizona!

But I'm not excited.

Reasons Why I Hate Spring

2007-04-05T16:09:00.000-04:00

Yesterday
Today
Tomorrow
Saturday

We've have a light dusting (and getting less light all the time) of snow that made it through the "warmest" part of the day unscathed and it's supposed to snow every day until Sunday. Gr. Tuesday was beautiful and warm - it was at least 70ish degrees. So, Brian and I went to the mall and got me a cool new spring coat (my first spring coat since... well, I don't even know how long since), some work-approved capris for the summer, and now I can't wear any of it.

Which brings to mind - springtime in Michigan is a little more violent than springtime in Indiana. I think it's either winter coat weather or no-coat weather, because for the last several years I haven't owned a spring coat and haven't been any worse for it. But now that I move to Indiana I want a spring coat, because it's more often 50-something and you need a little something without getting out the Michelin Man snow suit.

When Brian and I went spring coat shopping the other day, we had a hard time finding spring coats, because they were pretty picked over. In Michigan, stores are still trying to get rid of spring coats when they bring out the winter coats. Michigan people know better than to get a spring coat. They wear their winter coats until May when they decide they have had enough winter and will suffer through any imaginable "unseasonable" chill with a sweatshirt to prove the point that they're tired of winter and are ready for spring. So, thinking about this, I thought, "how frugal." They have probably spared themselves hundreds of dollars not buying spring outerwear.

So, the other night I was in the market for spring jacket. And I found the perfect one. It's gray and it's tailored and double breasted and has a belt, and had I a homburg and a quizzical gaze, I'd would make a very reliable private eye. I look forward to wearing it next week (I might even wear a homburg and a little suspicion). I may even sleep in it.

But, in true Michigan form, I'll be wearing my winter wear through Easter, and will most likely be stepping cautiously through snow with bright white summer sandals on and hoping to not get any snow on my toes on Easter morning. But next week it's supposed to warm up again. Thank goodness.

In the meantime, may the blessings of this holy weekend far out weigh any snow that you may get on your sandaled feet.

Fried Chicken And Potato Salad

2007-03-30T11:55:00.000-04:00

I was raised by the kind of mother who substitutes honey for sugar (because honey has more nutritional value than sugar). She would also substitute yogurt for sour cream and she absolutely never, ever, ever used heavy whipping cream. Not that we were ever hurting for anything because we weren't, but we led very healthy childhoods.

When we went shopping for groceries and we went down the cereal isle at Meijer, we would (like all other children) grab Lucky Charms, and Fruit Loops, and Captain Crunch. My mom would shake her head and point to the Nutrition Facts on the side of the box and say, "Unless sugar is at least the 3rd ingredient, I'm not buying it." I doubt I even have to tell you that that eliminates all the good cereal. In most of the good cereals, sugar was either the first or the second - which means, of course, that it is the largest or the second largest ingredient. No Lucky Charms. No Fruit Loops. And definitely not Captain Crunch. Instead, we got Raisin Bran, and Cheerios, and when she was feeling imprudent we would get Kix. We loved Kix weeks. We devoured Kix.

We spent one weekend a month with my Grandma Ramseyer, because she had had a stroke and needed to be taken care of all the time. It always amazed me that this woman had raised my mother, because this woman made things like lard sandwiches, and had a pie at almost every meal. My grandma liked food. She was not afraid of sugar. My mom said she remembers my grandma getting up early every Sunday morning to make ice-cream, just in case someone new would be at church and then she could invite them over for ice-cream. Now to me, that sounds like a lot of ice-cream that would have to be eaten on the non-visitor days. But that's the way she was. She liked food. When we went to her house for the weekend, she always had Velveeta cheese, whole milk, and peppermints. Always. And sometimes she had movie theater butter microwave popcorn. She often had lots of cookies, and was never without Schwann's Chocolate Push-ups in the freezer in the garage. On hot summer weekends, Jeff and I would have about 3 or so a day, and throw out the sticks and wrappers in the trash can in the garage so no one knew how many we ate. Of course, they probably wondered why every time Jeff and I were over, they were suddenly low on push-ups. To this day, however, I find comfort in Velveeta cheese and whole milk. Sometimes, when milk is on sale, I'll get one gallon of that watered-down 1% garbage that we normally drink (for Brian), and one gallon of whole (for me).

Having been raised by my very healthy mother, I have taken on more of her tendencies than my grandmothers. Although, I won't kick and scream if someone wants to feed me Doritos for dinner. However, when I make dinner for Brian and I, I more often cook like my mom. We're talking we have a salad (or fresh veggies), a cooked veggie, a starch, and a lean meat at every meal. I cut the fat off of chicken, I don't even own straight vegetable oil, and I'm more than a little stingy with the butter. We almost never have candy in the house, and I don't know that I've ever bought Velveeta cheese. But last night, I wanted fat. Not just boring ol' "I'm putting more butter in the mashed potatoes tonight". Oh no, I wanted fat. I wanted mayonnaise. I wanted white bread, I wanted cheese. And I didn't want salad. And I didn't want steamed broccoli. I wanted fried chicken and potato salad. So, that's what I made. I've never made either. I felt a little guilty as I poured several cups of oil into our deep electric skillet. But I got over it. I used olive oil that makes it better, right? That makes me kinda like my mom (a healthy substitution) and kinda like my grandma (to a fatty food).

Wedding Whimsy

2007-03-26T15:25:00.000-04:00

I was musing about Jake and Meika's wedding over the weekend. It was a terrific wedding. Everyone looked beautiful, everyone was beaming, and the dessert was tasty - which I'm pretty sure, is the definition of a successful wedding. It was great.... uh.... hold on....

*crackle, crackle*
We must be permitted to inturupt our daily programing for this brief announcement:

My fellow women, friends, and co-consumers, it is my unplesant appointment to publicize a chocolate shortage. Yes, the chocolate industry is facing a crisis. Please do not panic. Please remain calm. This is not a joke. This should not be taken lightly. Please restrict any desires to stock-pile. Should an industry shortage occur, rationing will be implemented and strictly adhered to by the Department of Chocolate Security. As the director this honored institution, I promise to keep all Snickers Bars, all six-layer chocolate cakes, all chocolate shakes, and all the other chocolate products safe. It is my humble promise to you. Thank you, and God bless.

Now back to our regularly scheduled programing.
*crackle, crackle*

It was good to see lots of family and friends that I wouldn' t noramally see. The whole wedding brought to mind some memories of other weddings. Here's to you, Jake and Meika, I hope every part of your wedding day was as pleasant for you as it came off to your guests:

Recollections of Wedding Days

My own wedding day began by scrambling eggs. Yes, I made breakfast for everyone who stayed with my parents on my own wedding day. Shocking? I should hope so.
Peggy's wedding day was the first time in my life that I was allowed to wear tinted lip gloss (I was twelve-years-old and just dying - with as much drama as possible - to wear anything colored).
Sarah and Justin's wedding day was spent trying to talk to Brian (whom I hadn't seen in at least 4 weeks - which I was pretty sure would kill me).
I spent my cousin Wendy's wedding torn with vanity as to which was better, my shoes or my dress (I was the flowergirl - vanity kicks in at an early age).
Lisa and Mick's wedding day was the last day of my life before I started college, the next day, armed with $500 worth of books, 17 blisters (from my very snazzy, and very uncomfortable shoes), and the anxious giddiness of a freshman, I started college.
Brooke's wedding was Brian and my first official road-trip. It was no shorter than 13 hours one way (which we spent listening to a book on tape - which, believe it or not - lasted pretty close to the entire trip).
The evening of Beth's wedding was spent in a steaming hot shower for 40 minutes with a brush and a bottle of conditioner (it's amazing how tangly my hair gets when it's professionally done - it always looks so neatly arranged).

Ahh, yes. The things that are going on in everyone's minds at weddings. It's interesting. You know, how I don't associate Mick and Lisa's wedding with their marriage, I associate it with when I started college. It's amazing how we live in our own little spheres and situations are all sifted through the little atmospheres of our own little worlds and inturpretted accordingly. And people say that we're not selfish creatures... :)

Pretty Much The Best Thing EVER

2007-03-21T14:27:00.000-04:00

It's almost summer! I hate spring. I loathe spring. (As you well know.) But dealing with all the spring mud, and all the spring gloom, and all the spring allergies (which I'm suffering with today), and all the spring ugliness, spring does have one thing that the other seasons lack. Spring has anticipation. The whole purpose of spring is to alert you that summer is coming. And summer is pretty much my favorite season. This morning I saw something that reminded me that summer is coming. This morning I saw green buds on our little bush in the front. Yes, I saw very green buds. It's wonderful. That may have been the peak of my day (and it's a little sad that my day peaked out in the morning). But it was pretty awesome, because now I know that in a few weeks we will have leaves on the trees. And then the grass will be green, and then it will start getting warm, and then people will start filling their pools, and then... it will be SUMMER! *the crowd cheers* So, for now (especially since I don't have a choice), I will deal with the spring nastiness and the spring allergies, because I anticipate something better.

I'm Growing Out My Nails

2007-03-20T10:15:00.000-04:00

They're getting long, and the longer and nicer they get the more phsyco I get about them. I have peely nails. They peel like crazy. I am what I would deam a fidgety person and I have several little weird habits. I bite my bottom lip, I bite the inside of my cheek, I twiddle my hair, and of course, I peel my nails. I love to peel my nails. I pick at them until I get a big chunk. It's so satisfying. And it's something I can do without looking too conspicuous. Just in my lap. Yup, I love to peel my nails.

But the consequences of peeling one's nails are dire. Of course they're going to be very thin, and of course they're going to be short, and of course they're going to look tattered. So I went cold-turkey off of peeling my nails about two weeks ago. I started coating them with two coats of a nail hardener called "Hard as Nails". Sometimes the hardener lasts a few days, sometimes close to a week. But my nails do feel hard, and they are getting long, and they have smooth ends. They're wonderful (maybe I'll post a picture this evening).

But now, I'm starting to get weird about my nails. I don't want to wash dishes without gloves, I have to stare at them for at least an hour per day (not all at one time, of course), and everyday Brian is forced to examine them and admire their progress. Frequent nail filing interrupts other projects. Yes, I think my nails are taking over my life. I'm guessing, though that after a few months of them being nice, I'll either get sick of the trouble they cause and start peeling them again, or I'll get used to the maintenance and have nice nails for the rest of my life. At this point I don't really know which way it will go.

I Want A Puppy

2007-03-13T16:57:00.000-04:00

If you don't want a puppy, I suggest that you avoid this website.

So I Think I May Have Pneumonia

2007-03-12T12:14:00.000-04:00

I've realized recently that well over 50% of my conversation with other people has to do either with how I'm feeling or how they're feeling. I'm even this way with my dog. I'm pretty used to living alone. Not alone, alone. Just there's not usually other people at home when I am. My last three roommates (before Brian) were on very different shifts than I was, so I spent a lot of time talking to my dog in way that may indicate that I expect him to start answering back one of these days. Now that I have a husband whom I see all the time, I still talk to Sam like he's a person. In the morning when I wake him up to take him potty, I open up the door of his bedroom and say, "Good morning, Sammers! Did you sleep well? How are you feeling today?" And every morning he jumps out of his crate and stretches and yawns dramatically. And then I'll say something like, "Hard night? Poor Puppy! Awww!" *pat, pat, pat* Every morning. This is just part of the routine. On the mornings when I'm crabby and bust open his door and say, "Com'on Sam! Let's go potty!" he looks at me with this kinda bewildered look, like, "Aren't you going to ask how I am? How I'm feeling?" So, you can see how much of my conversation (even with my pet) revolves around health either mine or my co-converser's. I've further noticed that it shows up on blog quite often. Every sniffle is recorded, every headache documented in great detail.

So, it should come as no shock then to hear my report that I may have some sort of lower respiratory concern. Brian had to leave early this morning, so I was awaken very early, but didn't get out of bed until the last possible second to make Brian's lunch and give him a cereal bar as he was walking out the door. When I did wake up to make his lunch, I immediately started coughing . Not just a morning clear-your-throat-from-sleeping-with-your-mouth-open cough, but a real, I'm-coming-down-with-something cough. It lasted for several minutes and my chest hurt so bad I thought I should go immediately back to bed. Unfortunately, I had to get up, and I had to go to work, and when I get home I have to do laundry. But hopefully, I won't actually get Pneumonia. And hopefully we'll get some sleep tonight (we didn't get much sleep last night), and hopefully I'll feel better in the morning. But just in the event that I do get Pneumonia, and that I don't get some sleep, I'm washing down my Vitamin C with a Coke (see how prepared I am??).

I Was Supposed To Give Up Cynicism For Lent

2007-03-07T12:58:00.000-05:00

But I'm not doing a very good job. So... I guess now I don't have to because now I have someone to "right my wrongs."

Reason #856 On My List Of Ways You Can Tell I'm Not Originally A Hoosier

2007-03-06T14:24:00.000-05:00

I love day-light savings time. Love, love, love, love, love, LOVE! Love it. It's the best thing in the world. I share this sentiment with two other Hoosiers. My husband, Brian (also not a native Hoosier), and our much detested governor, Mitch Something (can you tell I'm not up on my local politics? Anyway, the cause for the sudden burst of emotion is that this weekend is the beginning of day-light savings. Yeahhhhh!

2007-03-02T13:32:00.000-05:00

I just bought this dress on ebay. Pretty cute, right? I got it for $65 bucks (+ shipping, of course) which is a very resprectable price for a dress. Well, I didn't think much about it. I figured it was cheaper than you'd see in a store because that's what Ebay does, right? Well, then a co-worker of mine found this on the Bloomingdale's website. Check out the price down in the lower, right-hand corner. Yup, you read that correctly. This dress was originally $425.00 and has now been marked down to $255.00! Am I feeling a little vain right now? Oh, yes I am. I don't think I'll even be bummed if it doesn't fit, or comes and I don't like it. Just the satisfaction of having a dress that was originally $425 (and that I got for $65) is enough excitement for me. Ebay obsession lives on.

Something Serious

2007-03-01T16:00:00.000-05:00

Have you ever dreaded something that's expected of you so much that you're addicted to it? Something like when you're about to graduate from college and your parents - who have just dished out tens of thousands of dollars - expect you to get a job and stop lounging on their couch on the weekends; but really, you dread finding a job. So, you do tons of research on resume writing and such and hope that you never have to use these skills. Ever felt that way. It doesn't have to be something that big, really. It can be anything. Like dreading going some place - like a social event - so you try on every article of clothing you've ever owned. Sometimes I feel like I have to totally pshyc myself out to enjoy stuff. Is that weird?

My Monthly Dentist Appointment

2007-02-27T16:44:00.000-05:00

I had my monthly dentist appointment yesterday. I have problem teeth. They've been hatin' on me for several years now. I have put tons of my hard earned cash towards pacifying them, but that was still not good enough. My new dentist suggested (at my last six month cleaning appointment, six appointments ago) that I should start flossing regularly. So, my periodic (probably once a week) flossing turned into a daily habit. At my next appointment (do I have to tell you that it was five months ago?) he thought I should still be flossing more, maybe twice daily. So, I obediently floss my teeth two times every day. Even on Sundays (when I normally let things like eating right, washing my face before bed, etc slide). And yesterday I had my six-month cleaning, and my teeth were actually pretty clean. It turns out that I only need ONE appointment between this appointment and my next cleaning. The thought of even one such appointment may turn people who don't have "problem" teeth inside-out (as my mom would say). But not me, nope, I'm really happy with that. I don't know that I've had such a good cleaning in years. Since I was a manager at HoneyBaked (which is when my problems began) which was in 2003. So, after four years of paying through the nose to keep my teeth in my head, I may be seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. I can't wait. Maybe next time I won't have any appointments in between my monthly cleanings.

Does anyone watch the TV show "Monk"? I love Monk. For those of you who do not watch it, he's an obsessive-compulsive detective. He's so fearful, he's almost non-functioning. And one thing Monk hadn't done for 40 years was go to the dentist. His assistant was appalled and made him go to the dentist to solve a case, and he had the "cleanest" teeth the dentist had ever seen. How did Monk keep such incredible oral hygiene? Flossing 12 times a day. So, this may become my new motto: When in doubt, floss, floss, floss

Ebay

2007-02-22T14:39:00.000-05:00

I have been an Ebay member for two days now and I can already see it's not healthy.

Guacamole

2007-02-21T16:36:00.000-05:00

I've decided to make bean burritos either tonight or tomorrow for dinner. And I went to the store at lunch to buy the stuff for guacamole. I love guacamole. If I had my druthers - which I don't - I would slather the world with Guacamole. It's pretty much the best stuff ever. I'm really looking forward to this. Making fresh guacamole is one of those cool things that ladies in cute little house-dresses make for parties. It's not the sort of thing that I make. I make spaghetti, and scrambled eggs, and - on a good day - three-cheese chicken. When I have parties I make microwave popcorn and order pizza. But tonight I'm going to make guacamole. Yum. I love how it's like sour cream only better. I love how a good, fresh guacamole is chunky. I love how it smells. I love it when they make chips out of it. I just love it. I'll keep you posted on how it turns out.

Cheerfully Cynical

2007-02-19T12:17:00.000-05:00

So, after numerous references from friends to my blog, Brian has decided to read my blog to catch up on our latest "news" (welcome, BK). However, Brian feels like my postings contain a little too much cynicism (I maintain I am realistic, not cynical). So, he suggested that for everything cynical thing that I say, I need to say one cheerful thing as well, which does sound pleasant. So, here goes...

I think I'm going to send around a petition to discontinue to use of the word "spring" for the season between winter and summer, I think it should be referred to as "mud". Puppies are cute. Mud is starting in Indiana. Brian is cute too. All of our beautiful, glistening white snow is starting to turn into slush. CHOCOLATE IS TASTY. By tomorrow it should all be mud (the gross dirt - not the season). Tulips are my favorite flower. And then when I walk Sam, my toes will get wet from all the puddles, and and 41 degree weather will not be warm enough to ever get them warm. Hondas ROCK. So, I will be walking around with freezing cold toes until the end of mud (which should occur sometime around June 15th - whoops two cynicisms in one sentence). Christmas is happy. Shoes are fun. Gr. Yahhh!

On a more neutral note, Brian and I intend on redecorating our living room. I'm really looking forward to that. I thought I was burnt out on painting and such, but I think I'm ready to do this room. It's going to look really nice. We decided to put up a chair rail and paint under it dark blue, and gray on the top. We may be getting new furniture as well. We've been eying up a set at Ashley's Furniture, which is where we bought our table and chairs. So, we'll see. Although I'm really excited to have that room done, I'd rather not actually do all the painting myself, although it would probably be pretty easy painting since there's nothing weird with the walls (no funky little nooks and crannies or anything). So, it will probably go pretty fast. The thing that seems most intimidating to me is the ceiling because we're doing the kitchen, dining area, and living room all at the same time and I'm not a big fan of painting ceilings. But I gotta figure after this room the only unpainted room in the house will be Sam's room, which probably won't get done while we have Sam. It's weird to think that we're almost done redecorating our house. Last year at this time only two rooms were done, and the bathroom was unusable. And now, the house is almost all done. Whoa.

But I'm Not Ready!

2007-02-17T14:02:00.000-05:00

It's supposed to be forty degrees next week - which to a "Northerner" such as myself, means that Spring is coming. But I'm not ready for winter to be over yet. Not that I don't hate winter, because I do. It's just that I hate spring even more. I mean, everyone likes the June kind of spring when it's 76 and sunny with big puffy white clouds and pink flowers and such, but let's face it: that's not spring! That's early summer! Spring is 45 and windy and rainy, and that nasty brownish grey color with sometime one, lonely sprig of green sprouting up. That's spring. That's March, and April, and half of May, and frankly, I'm not a big fan. So, I'm not ready for winter to be over yet! Not ready at all!

Valentine's Quandary

2007-02-12T12:18:00.000-05:00

Well, it's Valentine's day again (it's amazing how the dreaded holiday comes up so quickly and it feels like decades in between Christmases). Valentine's day is pretty nice actually. It's just that it's impossible to buy a Valentine's day gift for a guy. Girls are easy. A cute little bunch of flowers, some DeBrands chocolate, and they are puddles at your feet. Guys? They don't want cute like flowers, they don't want chocolate, or teddy bears holding big red hearts. So, what do you buy a guy?? I honestly need some suggestions here, people. V-day is only two days away. I had a brilliant idea of getting Brian these sweet Diesel shoes that he liked, but I could only find them in an outlet mall in Birch Run, Michigan, and when I called to see if they could send them to me, they didn't have his size (or any where near it - for that matter). So, now I'm lost without an idea and Valentine's day being the day after tomorrow. What to do. What to do.

Looking Forward To:

2007-02-09T14:49:00.000-05:00

My costume drama that I rented for the weekend (Brian is not looking forward to this)
Sleeping in tomorrow
Not cleaning
Doing the laundry (so all my favorite socks will be clean again - it's amazing how much better you feel when you have your favorite socks on)
Being home with Brian and Sam
Eating lots of popcorn
Lounging around in my wind-pants, MSU sweatshirt, and fuzzy socks after 10AM
Going shoe shopping

Ponderings On A Sleepy Week

2007-02-08T16:16:00.000-05:00

I have been so sleepy this week. It must be the cold weather and all the shivering I've been doing to stay warm or something. I'm not sure, but I've been really sleepy. Last night, for example, we came home from church and promptly went to bed, where Brian thought we would chat and read and all those things that normal people do at 9:30 when they're not falling asleep. Well, I fell asleep. At 9:31. This has been going on all week. And I think I'm just as bad today. Maybe I need to start exercising. Yuck. Who wants to budge a single muscle when it's -4 out? Anyway, I've gotta do something. It's getting ridiculous. Maybe I'm fighting something off. Maybe there's some Heebie Jeebies going around. And I sure don't want to catch that. Maybe I've been over-booking lately (which is pretty likely) and if that's the case, I dread next week. Maybe it's because it's kinda slowish at work. Who knows. So, this weekend, Brian and I have very few plans. We may do this, we may do that. But mostly I think I'm just going to try to sleep it off.

Indiana Has Wimpy Schools*

2007-02-06T12:26:00.001-05:00

I grew up in Michigan. Once in my entire life we closed schools for it being too cold. Once. It was -28 degrees and the diesel had frozen in the buses and they literally could not get them started. So, we had a "snow day" for cold weather.

Other than that we little Michigan children stood outside during cold advisories with snow suits (not the cool kind - the Michelin Man kind) three pairs of mittens, a hat, ear muffs, two pairs of socks and moon boots and we waited for that bus to come. Never mind the radio announcements that said, "Make sure none of your skin is exposed to the air." Never mind the warnings to not allow pet outside for more time than is necessary. No, no. We stood outside and we waited for the bus. When it snowed. We stood outside and we waited for the bus. When it hailed. We stood outside and we waited for the bus. When it rain that winter rain that's just slightly warmer than sleet. We stood outside and we waited for the bus. When we had pneumonia. When we had hypothermia. When our fingers turned purple (under the three pairs of mittens). When our freshly showered hair froze. We always waited for the bus.

Not to say that we never had a snow day. No, we always had tons of snow days. But often it was because the superintendent's four-wheel drive pick-up got stuck on Main Street on his way into the office. Another thing was, snow days weren't that great in Michigan. Why? Because the school didn't call off until they were absolutely sure that it was beyond the human physical powers to attend school. So, by the time all resources had been exhausted, the Michigan mothers had gotten their children out of bed, and had dressed them in all their cold-weather gear, and had packed their lunches, and had sent them to stand at the end of the driveway to wait for the bus. There was no sleeping in. There was no lounging under flannel sheets and down blankets.

To make matters worse, by the time school was called off, the Michigan moms were so annoyed that their kids would be bouncing off the walls all day, that she would immediately assign them "spring-cleaning" tasks (don't ask me how you can be spring-cleaning when it's clearly not yet spring). The favored task in our house (our mother's favored task, not ours) was to take all the things out of the cupboards and wash them down with Murphy's Oil while listening to "Listen to the Missus" (a local radio show that mostly featured cleaning tips and recipes). Not exactly watching cartoons and snugly with a puppy by a fire drinking cocoa, and eating cookies. That's what snow days in Michigan are like.

So, I have moved 50-odd miles south of Michigan. I thought, "Fort Wayne couldn't possibly feel that differently from Michigan." I was so wrong. Last night I was watching a little TV while I was waiting for Brian to get home. Now, I am willing to admit it's really cold out. It's almost miserable. But the schools in this area have been closed all week (so far) due to cold weather (there's only about an inch of snow total), and they close the night before! This is very strange for me. When I grew up, I would go downstairs and tell my mom that I didn't want to go to school because I felt sick, and my mom would say, "Well, take a shower and get dressed and see if you don't feel better." I knew even then - that she was trying to trick me and even if I still felt gross after showering and getting dressed (after which I normally felt even worse than when I woke) I would still go to school on the principle that I had spent the last half an hour getting ready to go and if I didn't go I would have just wasted precious sleeping time getting cold and wet. That's why calling off school the night before is so foreign to me. It would be like calling in sick before you go to bed. They don't know what it's going to feel like in the morning. It could be a balmy 52 degrees in the morning. Even if the diesel has frozen in the buses, I would still get up and shower and get dressed. Just in case it thawed.

Yes, Indiana has wimpy schools. But I'm probably just jealous. I probably am just wishing wistfully that I were 6 again, or a teacher and living in Indiana.

*Post may contain slight exaggeration

Cool Weekend (literally)

2007-02-05T12:24:00.000-05:00

Brian and I had one of the best weekends this weekend. First of all it is freezing in Indiana. Right now, for example, it is -4 degrees. Yes, negative 4. It is really cold, and mostly Sam never wants to go outside to go potty. So, on Friday night we went to Hobby Lobby so that I could spend the gift certificate his mom gave me for my birthday. We got a bunch of stuff that we have been meaning to buy and never got around to it. Then we went home and decorated. Which was really fun for me. I don't think Brian was exactly ecstatic, but he didn't complain and he really liked it once it was all up.

Then on Saturday, I had a heated stone massage, and Brian dropped me off at the spa and went to Best Buy to look at computers, because he got lots of Best Buy gift certificates for Christmas, and he's been drooling over laptops for months now. So, he went to Best Buy, and when he picked me up from my massage, he hadn't gotten one and was kinda depressed, because every time he found one that he wanted they were sold out or it was too expensive. So, we went back to Best Buy and he was eying one that was pretty reasonable, but it was a wide-screen (which I thought defeats the purpose of getting a laptop, but apparently it enhances the purpose of getting a laptop). So, we went home with a new computer. At home, we were kinda cleaning up for our annual super-bowl party and baking and stuff (and Brian was playing with his new computer) and Brian's old roommates called (the Kaeb twins). The two of them, and another person from the Alto area were driving home from Biloxi, MS and they realized that they wouldn't be able to make it home at night because Michigan was getting 12ish inches of snow with 50mph winds, so they stayed at our house over night. Kinda spur-of-the-moment. That was fun. As weird as this sounds - it was fun to be useful to someone.

Then yesterday was our second annual super-bowl party and it was great, but they didn't even put a dent in my double batch of chex-mix. Which... is a "shame" (it actually turned out really well). So, that was our weekend. And I got free lip-gloss out of the deal (My cousin, a Mary-Kay consultant, gave me some lip-gloss for having us over). So, that's pretty much the best thing ever.

And even though it was freezing cold, Brian was not stingy with the heat, so we kept our house pretty warm, and everyone, including Sam, was as cozy as bugs in rugs. It was a pretty great weekend.

How Many Tubes Of Chapstick Can Fit Across The Top Of A Keyboard?

2007-02-01T13:35:00.000-05:00

Apparently, seven can fit comfortably. Maybe eight if you're in a bind and can't find another place to keep your chapstick. The real question is: What kinds of Chapstick?