Merry Christmas

MERRY CHRISTMAS FROM THE HELMBERGERS!!

Ye ole' Christmas Tree and Bella.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!!

Glad tidings to you and much holiday cheer.

Before we get started I have to forewarn -

Kyle's a real driver -- Keep yo' hands on yo' horns.

Not only that he shot his first deer -

Just in time for this letter of holiday cheer.

It wasn't real big...Oh, but it was a buck.

Hockey starts this week so he's moved on to pucks.

Our year was a full one with things good and bad.

And some heartbreak too - In March we lost my dad.

"Cancer," they said when the tests all came in.

We've spent most of this year - all missing him.

Kayla announced that this time next year -

She'll graduate college (And, man, we'll ALL cheer).

She just bought new wheels. A car sleek and new.

With a few bells and whistles and car payments too.

Kirstin is still taking classes and such -

But her life will soon change -ever so much.

We're all planning and primping and doing things now

For New Years when she and Ben say their vows.

We've added a puppy to our house, too, this fall.

His name is Miller - and he comes when we call.

Not after the beer!! Jeeze...Holy Moly!

Kyle named him (sigh) after a goalie.

Merry Christmas! Here's wishing you all of the best!

And a year that is nothing, nothing but blessed.



Cheeee Cah Go!

A Shopping We Will Go.... Ah, Went

Went to Chicago with friends for a while

we shopped up and down the Magnificent Mile - 

We scooped up cute jeans and all kinds of shirts

And the four of us walked until all our feet hurt.

One friend who lives there took us to the sights - 

We took them all in and slept good at night.

We strolled like the locals to all the cool shops

and walked and then walked and rarely did stop.

Except to refuel with some food and some drink.

And a little pause sometimes so we could all think.

For my daughter's wedding - I needed a dress

and said, "This is the place I could find one I guess."

I tried on a few said,  "Oh pew," and, "No thanks."

Then we went to the Wine Bar at Macy's and drank.

"It's $5 Friday!" the waitress declared.

So we decided to spend a little time there.

Suddenly it seemed like my task was quite small -

I went back to the fourth floor and tried on them all.

Some seemed too young for an oldie like me

Some seemed too short - I should not show these knees.

It'll be dead winter when they say their vows.

So I had to think temperatures colder than now.

"Bring me more dresses," I ordered, "Please?"

"Is there anything lined with a small touch of fleece?"

And finally a skirt and a top looked just fine

Of course we admitted - it could be the wine.

But I came away with an outfit to wear ...

I think I will dazzle when I show it off there.

That store was insane it had nine floors to take in!!!

(That's why we went once - and then went back again.)

And not just to pants, dresses and shoes -

But decided to revisit the Wine Bar again too.

At the Hancock Tower we looked at the view

Carrying packages of all of our things that were new.

We walked up and down and all through Navy Pier.

And picked up a couple of great souveniers.

There's a huge Ferris Wheel to ride while you're there

Two of us climed it without even a care.

It was kind of high up we decided too late.

But the view of the city was ever so great.

Seven short minutes and we'd made the trip 'round.

And they safely deposited us back on the ground.

I think I'll declare our trip a success.

We got pretty good bargains. And me? Ah, that dress. 

These friends were delightful for four days of fun.

I hope I can speak for most everyone.

To go in October it could have been cold

At least from the stories that we'd been told.

But the weather, I swear, was 60 and more.

So we were warm - even outside of the stores.

Chicago in the fall was a trip to remember

My dress I'll show off near the end of December.

The food was delish and our feet have recovered -

Go again?!!!!

Ah, Why yes! I think I'll have another.   

 (And that goes for the wine bar too.)

The drag of downsizing

Dude, this car is like, supercool, but I bet you're rethinking that minivan, huh?

THIS SUCKS and this blows (but both in a really good way)

I admit that I waste a fair amount of money on crap.


I see some new kitchy novelty thing and before I can come to my senses it grabs my money out of my wallet, jumps in my bags and shows up at my house when I'm unpacking my wares.
The hands-free, battery operated can opener that drives itself around the rim of the can? Got it.
The Magic Bullet?  Mine. All mine. 
The upside-down tomato planter...sigh, two.
The George Foreman Grill? Check.
The VHS three-pack Tae Bo workout? I curse you Billy Banks! My abs are no better than before I popped for the $30.


In my defense...no matter how many commercials they crammed down my throat over the holidays last year - I have yet to purchase a Snuggie or a Shoedini. Apparently I still have some self control.


But today ... today I am here to applaud a couple of new gimmicks that I saw, I bought, and am here to proclaim are sheer genius.

First of all let's talk odor (and things that blow).

The little area that houses our kitty litter is an assault on every nasal cavity that enters the door going from our garage to our house. I keep it clean, too, in a nazi-crazed-obsessed kind of way but with a couple of cats doing their jobs it's a pretty big task and occasionally the box emits an odor that tends to linger.  The Air Wick Freshmatic air freshener helps my cause.

It's a little can of air freshener that sits in a case and squirts itself (meaning I don't even have to run out there and try to head off company by five minutes to 'freshen up' the entryway. It's being done continuously - I told you, genius). 

It runs off a little timer you can set to spray every 9, 18 or 36 minutes. I hit things a little heavy with the 9 minute interval but like I said it can get a little stinky.

Drawbacks to the device? Refills are a little pricey but I'm a coupon girl for the right items and I have found some that save a buck and a half.
Also - this is also the same area my washer and dryer are in and since the air freshener goes off randomly according to the timer I'll be honest here and admit that on occasion I've been sprayed in the chest, the elbow, and once, the right lens of my glasses. Just a little something to keep in mind.




The other item I love? (And things that suck)
The Space Bag Vacuum Seal Bags.

I have this lovely blue tote that I've kept in my closet for about a decade. I use it to change out my seasonal clothes. In the summer it houses my fleece jeans, fleece vests and pull over... well...fleece sweatshirts. (Hockey Mom). 

In the winter the tote keeps my tank tops shorts and capris nicely tucked away. But it's a big darned thing and as a self proclaimed pack rat (nay, not hoarder) I hold over way more clothes than I need to but that's for another post.

Anyway - The space bags caught my eye. And I bought a couple. I brought them home and I proceeded to use one for my summer clothes.


OH.
MY.
GOSH.
Some things really happen just like the commercial!! When I had every stitch of air sucked out of the plastic the pile had wilted before my very eyes. What once fit in that huge, blue, closet-hogging tote now slides under my bed. I started to cry.
I fell so in love with the bags that I bought more! And then, a couple more. And I proceeded to tour my home looking for things to vacuum pack.
My spare bedding takes up nary a foot of closet space now.


Just doing it is fun. Pack 'em full. Suck out the air. Lock. Repeat.
I have actually laid in bed a couple of nights thinking about things I could vacuum pack. Which might mean I've taken it a little too far.
If I'd have known about those bags back when we were moving hither and yon every couple of years I would have had our entire load that took a semi condensed to a red wagon.
The box says they're waterproof and reusable which makes them perfect. Hopefully I'll never have to test the waterproof part but the fact that I can use them again, I think, makes the cost and owning them justifiable. Although Kirk did make himself chuckle the night I showed him my teeny, tiny, summer wardrobe.
I know he was secretly mildly impressed but as he stared at the newly compact pile (in awe perhaps) he said, "I hope the cat puts a hole in that and it fills up with air and you can't get it out from under the bed." Nice.


As seen on TV - some of the items are laughable.
Some I'm not sure how I ever lived without.

Before I go...and because some of you have been asking...This is Miller.

He's been ours for almost a week. He's a fast learner, too, cuz' in that time he's learned to fetch, come and sit. 
We've already got things down to a routine, too.
He pees and poops and I clean it up.
Wait...a...second...I'm thinking vacuum pack?

It's MILLER Time....

Good news... We're expecting!!
Take a deep breath. There's more to the story. 
Obviously most of you know that my eggs nearly qualify for AARP and any swimming going on isn't being done with any kind of distance or strength at all so you can deduct that we're NOT having a baby - at least of the human kind. Plus, I'd kinda be in a little trouble since Kirk had that special man surgery a bout a dozen years ago.

Just when things have slowed down at the corner of We're Almost There Boulevard and Easy Street we have decided to shake them up. The girls are in college, Kyle's made the big move to the high school and we're within three years of the finish line (i.e. empty nest) and now we've decided we're due for something exciting to happen (other than planning that wedding in December of course).

I suggested the adoption of an infant, just one more chance to do everything right since we kinds, sorta, might have messed up the other three kids we'd had - but hubba bubba didn't even let me get to the part about how cute all the new baby stuff is since our kids were little and how I still have some great baby names I never got to use before he shut that light bulb off with a quick flick of the switch.
He did...however...announce that he'd been batting around an idea of his own.
With three kids in youth hockey all those years and the number of winter nights we spent at home in our own beds in the single digits, the time had never been quite right to do it before.
He thought that now the timing was perfect and that...even though it wasn't quite the same as another baby we'd still get to hear the pitter patter of little feet, get to potty train it, teach it to speak and sit up all night with it.

It was, he declared, the perfect time to acquire a puppy.

"But wait!" I said, "What about all these cats???!!!" My husband has long held the opinion that as the kids leave I replace them with kittens and there is actually some truth to that. I haven't yet spoken to a counselor but there does seem to be some correlation. Besides, cat No. 1 is 16 years old and I thought it was getting close to the end so it seemed like a good idea to replace one old cat with the antics of two kittens. But that was two years ago and still today, the old cat lives on. How was I to know?

But back to the pup.  It's a springer spaniel and the kennel owners declare it already has 'great hunting instinct'.  Which is a big plus. My boys wanted a hunting dog. They also said it has 'high energy' and 'a real curious nature'. Translation:  hyper, crazy, barking lunatic???
We'll see.
We've met him briefly, making the three hour round trip expedition to take a little more of a look see than the photo on the Internet could offer. We had our choice of two. The other cried and whimpered our entire visit and this little guy came over to us,  nuzzled us in the neck one at a time and licked our cheeks all the while pleading with his eyes, "I'm cute, right? Take me home. I promise you will love me."

Kyle has already named him Miller. Interestingly enough NOT after the beer - which is what most of our friends will think - but after the hockey goalie Ryan Miller.

The black and white pup to be named Miller-but-not-after-the-beer, will be ours on Saturday. Tonight after church the boys and I scooped up some needed supplies for his much anticipated arrival. Instead of teething rings, bibs and pacifiers I took collars, leashes, chew toys and kibbles to the check-out ... as well as DVDs of both Old Yeller and Where the Red Fern Grows. (Sometimes I can't help myself!!)  

The girls say we are mean. That we deprived them of the love of a dog their entire lives and now, now, we decide to get one.  The cruelty. We assured them they will have liberal visitation and have been designated official dog-sitters.

This is actually not our first dog. Back in BC (before children) we had another dog. She was a light brown lab and possibly six or seven other things and we called her Libby after a town in Minnesota where we stopped to let her go potty the day we got her.  Each night when my hubby came home from work she was so excited to see him that she immediately peed at the front door. Every. Single. Night. 

Our fondest Libby memory of all is the time my husband rushed me to the emergency room, eight months pregnant, in the middle of the night. We had woke up lying in a large wet spot on the bed. We sped to the ER declaring my water had broke and birth was surely eminent only to find out the wet spot in our bed wasn't amniotic fluid at all - but dog urine.
Libby the pee-er was hit by a car near my parent's cabin one weekend and it has taken 21 years to think of giving dog ownership another shot. 

But I think we're ready. The question is...Is Miller-not-after-the-beer ready for us? 
I'll keep you posted.

Okay... but guess my weight??? Who thought of that???!!!!!!

The end of summer brings such a sense of loss that it's only fitting there is a monumental, landmark event to console us through the pain.
An event so noteworthy, exhilarating, and dare-I-say, even educational, that some of us look forward to it with the greatest anticipation the entire month of August.
And. Now. It's here.
It's state fair time in the Gopher State.


I lived the entire first half of my life having never gone to the state fair. Sure, up on the Iron Range we had the St. Louis Country fair in Hibbing when I was growing up and that was a pretty big deal in its own right but I don't know how I ever lived for twenty-ahem-some years without knowing the pleasure of a free yardstick, multiple glasses of all-the-milk-you-can drink or the knowledge of the shortcut that takes you from there to the Sweet Martha's Cookie stand to get the perfect accompaniment.
For the first five years after I got married we lived in the cities and my husband, who was well aware of the magic of the fair having gone while he was growing up, took me once, twice, and sometimes even more in one season.
The first few times we went as a two-some, walking hand-in-hand listening to the vendors in the grandstand and perusing the offerings of the bazaar. Sometimes we even took in a concert by a national headliner. Later I hobbled, pregnant belly protruding into the crowd, searching every half mile or so for a suitable empty seat and the perfect food to fill an odd craving.
Later we pushed strollers and held on to toddlers learning to incorporate a break for naps and ice cream into our visits. Only once did we misplace a child and only for a few moments next to the water ride.

One of my favorite state fair memories is the year our middle daughter, desperately desiring one of the big teddy bears from the midway tried and tried and tried until all of her change was gone to win one. On the verge of sobbing - and a pending meltdown she pitched a diddly of a toss, the ring spun around the bottle and a big blue 6' tall bear belonged to her. 
Then she discovered how impossible it is to lug a big teddy bear through the crowd at the fair and how hard it is to get someone else in your family to do it, too.

We've made great purchases at the fair. Miracle cleaning cloths that can be reused forever and ever and ever, personalized Christmas ornaments and bird houses.Wedding gifts and birthday presents have been bought during trips to the fair. And every year, even though we swear we won't stop, we still end up standing somewhere along the walkway oohing and aahing at a new item, sucked into the pitch while a demonstrator explains why their product is the must-have item of the year. Then there's the learnin' part. You can't visit all those booths about animals, vegetables, and natural resources without picking up at least one thing that makes ya just a little smarter.

We eat gyros for our biggest meal of the day and I always get my wedding ring, (original cost $269 with my college roommate's employee discount) cleaned with pocket change. When they're finished it looks good as new. And since my husband always patiently waits with me on the sweltering hot second floor of the grand stand for my ring to shine and for me to walk through slow moving lines to gather free tote bags and yard sticks I return the favor by going to the animal barns and machinery hill with him.


During the years we moved away from Minnesota for a couple of fair runs but whenever possible we still managed the trip back during the fair.  Sometimes with our kids, sometimes with friends, occasionally alone.
This year when the commercials began and the news channels talked about beginning their live broadcasts from their assorted booths I marveled at how in a couple of years it will be only the two of us visiting the fair once again..........although ...apparently not for awhile.

Because while we can barely get our cool kids who are all in college and high school now to go to a movie with us for fear a friend might see they have parents or walk beside them through the aisles of a grocery store - when we talked about making a trip to the Minnesota State Fair the other night at dinner every one of the three kids we've introduced to the big pig, the caramel apple sundae and the DNR booth yelled, "I'm coming!"

BOOBS or BANGS?

In the age of the fanciest of gizmo and gadgets and electronic calendars in all shapes and sizes I still choose to shun them all. I rely on an archaic system that involves a handy dandy paper and pencil black book planner with a month-at-a-glance, a pencil with an eraser, and a paper clip to mark the date. 
It's how I roll.
It's what I understand.
It's a system I am a slave to.
I am nothing without the black book planner.

A rebel against modern day conveniences I tuck the planner under my arm, tote it around hither and yon and refer to it daily to see where I should be and when. When I'm setting up an appointment or in a meeting and everyone else grabs their phones and other hand held devices I dig out the black book - which, incidentally, is only a bit smaller than the Qwest Dex phone book.

With such a steel proof method to keep my important notes, appointments and reminders it's a wonder I managed to double-book two 
very important
appointments on the same day last weel.
One being my mammogram and the other being, well, another pressing, hard-to-get appointment with, ah, my hair stylist.

When I realized my predicament I deeply pondered the dilemma, "Well this isn't going to work," I thought and called the hospital and cancelled my mammogram.

For roughly 23 seconds.

I wondered as soon as I'd hung up how it could be that highlights in my hair would weigh the more important of the two options. A look in the mirror confirmed the dire need for the hair appointment and I already knew how long it could be before the stylist could squeeze me in again, but the real quandary is -
What does that say about me?!

Well, first of all it says
a) I realize how hard it is to get an appointment with a good stylist.
b) I'm pretty much anxious to look for a-n-y excuse to not show up for an appointment that consists of prodding, poking, probing or pinching any of my female areas and that probably isn't that unusual,
but it also says
c) I am now a shallow, simple person who would choose to replace my sickly, dark roots with beautiful, bright blond ones instead of showing up for a screening that could save my life.

So... in the end I realized I had momentarily lost my mind and my better sense prevailed. I called the hospital right back.

"Hi, I just called a minute ago to cancel my 8:30 on Monday for my mammogram and I'd like to reschedule it please."
"The same appointment?"
"Yes. For 8:30 a.m. on Monday."
"The exact same appointment?"
"Ah, yes."
"At 8:30 a.m. on Monday - just like you had?"
"Yes. Is it gone already?"
"No. Just checking. You want to reschedule the same exact appointment for the same exact time you just cancelled for?"
"YES. (sigh) I thought I had a conflict (dark roots) but I don't so I'd like to just come in for the mammogram (not really but my guilt is weighing heavy)."
"Okay, I've got you down. Thanks for calling (you unorganized goof that probably has a hair appointment conflict that you double booked by using a planner made out of paper instead of using an electronic device that would have saved us all this hassle) Have a good day."


The good news is...I did the right thing and showed up for the mammogram and received the letter yesterday that the test was fine.

And more good news...the hair appointment I rescheduled is in two days.
Dark roots be damned - it may be shallow your days ARE numbered.

Me Want Cannnnnnnnnnnddddddddddyyyyyyyyyy

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AMERICA!


We do the same thing every 4th of July.

And I'm not complaining. We've created a pretty decent tradition with some of our better friends of spending the afternoon and evening together taking in all the 4th of July finery our city, which likes to boast that it's 'the 4th of July Capital of Minnesota 'has to offer.

Before we get to the good stuff on the 4th of July however - meaning the parades and the tailgating and hanging with our buds while we bide our time until the fireworks - there is much work to be done. Celebrating 4th of July with us is not for the lazy.

We have to shop for the food, clean out the coolers. Pack spatulas, plastic silverware, napkins and paper plates. Prepare a smaller cooler for parade beverages and a larger one for the tailgate meal. Cut up some fruit, cut up some onions, wipe down the table we'll take and make sure there is propane for the portable gas grill. I also pack sweatshirts and long pants for sunset - for not only myself but for everyone in my family who swears they won't need them but then asks if I've brought some for them about 8 o'clock, after the temperature has dropped about 20 degrees.

As the parade hour approaches we need to load all of our totes, coolers and grills into the truck. When we arrive at our pre-appointed tailgate location it's time to set up the lawn chairs, visit a little, and collect a few free mini flags from the local Ford dealer.

And then....and then.... it's Cannnndddddddddeeeeeyyyy time!
I likes my sugary treats.
You can have your cake and cupcakes and gooey chocolate bars. My guilty pleasure is delicious, delicious candy.

I am a dentist's dream.

Now that my children are older I don't even have to feel guilty for not donating my take to their collection.

It's every parade goer for himself. 

And this year it was a banner 'free candy' event.
Tootsie rolls and caramel suckers. Blow pops and Icees. Hot Atomic Balls and Sour War Heads that exploded splendidly in my mouth.  
Sure, I also had to smile and graciously collect several dozen political stickers during the course of the afternoon but it was well worth it for the sugar-high inducing haul I made... which I promptly devoured sitting in my lawn chair parade side.
Now that I think about it I may have been a bit of a spectacle.  What with my girlfriends yelling, "Throw some to her!" "Over here - she wants some," and all.
But it's okay.
It's another 12 months before the next 4th of July comes around.

Until then I'll try to be more responsible about my candy consumption.

As soon as the mega bag of lemon drops from Fleet Farm in the glove compartment of my car is gone.  And ... it's only three months until the next big candy holiday comes around ... Halloween.

Decisions...Decisions

Choices!  Choices!  It's just no fair - Deciding anything is my worst nightmare.


Even today I labored about – what to wear before I went out.
Shorts cuz it’s sunny? Jeans cuz I like em? A pair of capris? If I’m hot I can ‘hike em.’
A tank top? A t-shirt? A layer on top? A sweater in case the temperature drops?


If I go out to dine I never pick first – what I’ll eat to fill up on or quench my thirst.
"What are you getting?" I’ll ask everyone - and then make my selections when theirs are all done.
I have to know what they’re going to eat -- Or when they get theirs I might wish it for me.
If I get a burger with fixins and such and their stuff looks better- I won’t like mine as much.
If I order pizza I won’t like my take - when their waitress brings them hashbrowns and steak.


If we go to a movie I never can pick - Between action, or romance or comedy schtick.
What if I choose & we don’t like what we see? It’s too much responsibility.
When buying flowers with hubby this week - he said, “Well, do you like anything that you see?”
Geraniums, Marigolds, Petunias and such – "Yes, yes, I like all of them... much!”
He leaned on one leg and shifted his side – and his irritation got too hard to hide.
“Can’t you find something to get the job done? Please, hurry – soon, this isn’t much fun.”
Baskets or flats? The red or the blue? I couldn’t decide on a type - or a hue!!!
I picked a few things and took them all home and still went back twice – but those times alone.


He’s well aware of my shortcomings now – In decision making on whats where’s and hows.
For 24 years he’s sighed and he’s moaned – rolled his eyes and quietly groaned.
He can’t gripe too much cuz’ I have one on him. A choice he can’t make- again and again.


When he sits on the sofa to watch the TV the channel flipping goes on endlessly.
News and then sports then music that’s groovy – and maaaaybe nine minutes of some random movie.
Then sports again and maybe the weather. "Come on Man! I want to scream – Get it together!!"
Pick something to watch then I’ll watch with you. But if you keep flipping I’m outta here dude.


There’s one choice I make that’s easy for me – My hubby can have that HD TV.
If I have an evening with time I can spare – I know how to spend that and I know just where.
I’ll lay on the couch with the cat in my crook. And open the page of a very good book.

Lettttttttttttttttt's Plaaaaaaaaay Ball

It rained.

But only for a while.
And not enough to dampen the excitement of a day at the ball park.


The new one.

The one that cost millions and millions and millions of dollars.
To watch the ball players play -


The ones that cost millions and millions of dollars.

For the first visit we even
sprung
for the good seats.

It was a great day to play hookey.
At the ball park.

With friends.


Too bad our team lost.

DAD

The campfire’s lit and the embers all burn bright
But there is one empty chair at the fire now at night
He’d be here if he could to tend the burning flame
But from this moment on – Nothing will be the same.
One of the most generous people that you’ll find…
And the laughter that he gave us - just one gift he left behind.

Even when things got as badly as they could
He tried to pretend, for us, that he felt good.
The day that they told us, and said, “It won’t be long.”
He said, “All I ever wanted was to take good care of mom.”

As a dad he always had the time to talk and have some fun.
Ribbing all the grandkids and entertaining everyone.
We all loved to hear the stories of his years as a kid -
And the funny, naughty things those local boys and brothers did.
As a man he was a model for others to aspire
Welcoming even strangers – to those nightly summer fires.

A boiling pot of stew that didn’t seem to have an end
When we’d come home for the weekend with our kids and any friends.
"Come home with us this weekend,” we would tell friends that we had, “
"You have to come there with us. You guys will love my dad.”
He waited 37 years to come back and make a start
On the land that always seemed to tug a little at his heart.
He never traveled far away as many people know –
He said, “There’s no where else but here that I’ve wanted much to go.”

Surely even deer and birds - are wondering just where
The man is that gave them such kind and loving care.
Life is not always fair or good and kind.
And he wasn’t yet quite ready to leave those he loved behind.
Still we’ll light the fires when we’re home to end the day –
And know though the chair is empty, He’s still sits there anyway.
So if you see the flame burn brightly and you happen to pass by
Just like the days when he was tending. Pull in, sit down, say, “Hi.”

Me. Unplugged.

                                                                                   
It's been a month.
Maybe it's been a short month - but it's a month nonetheless. Twenty-eight days doth a month make, especially if it's February - and what a February it was.

An unexpected family illness has taken me away from my home for a few days a week all of February.
It's not far away - an hour and half - but it's far enough to remove me from simple conveniences like cell phone service and high speed internet.
These are things I didn't even know existed when most of my kids were born. Nonetheless, somehow, now they have become important to the way I live my life.
The internet is instrumental to the work I do. As a freelancer I use it for research, for writing copy and for turning in assignments, preferably before they are due.
I use my cellphone for my work, too - to do interviews and to communicate with editors when even e-mail isn't fast enough.
Daily I use my cellphone to communicate  with my children. Especially the two that are in college. And the other one, who still needs rides to and from practices with times that are ever changing.  

But with this new life twist that has taken me away from reliable cell phone service (except for this one place, a sweet spot, standing right up against the window pane in a spare bedroom), I have begun to do more of the dreading texting. (For someone who types every single day for most of the day I am surprisingly inept on a cell phone keyboard). I find it tedious and exhausting - but it's getting a little easier.

The internet connection I have been using is dial up. Ergo if I use the internet I make it somewhat quick because the internet also ties up the reliable telephone line. Something I'd completely forgot about for a few days.

But as the weeks have continued I have come to realize something.
I miss time.

Downtime, free time, extra time.  

Maybe everything doesn't have to be an immediate rush job.  When the two minutes or so it seems to take to send an e-mail used to be excruciating, now I sit back in the chair and relax. Spin a little, hum, and then celebrate the little victory when the screen signifies a successful delivery.
When I used to talk endlessly on my cellphone (probably about nothing special) a text or two a day as an exchange with my kids serves the purpose just as well. I know everyone is fine - which is really all that matters.

And I am reading!! Alot. Which I do anyway but now it seems a little more rewarding.
Without endlessly surfing on the internet as a distraction, the pages of the books I've wanted to get to are turning twice as fast.
Leaning against the arm of the sofa visiting with my parents is entertainment enough and sometimes, my cellphone isn't even in the same room I am. Which is an interesting discovery because previously I returned home multiple times a week to retrieve it because spending a couple of hours without it was becoming unheard of.

So if you call me these days chances are the phone doesn't register such a thing and I'm into a good chapter of a book.  And if you e-mail me and it takes a little longer for me to respond it's because  I'm not able to check my messages every hour on the hour like before. And maybe I'm listening to a good story from my parents or their friends and neighbors who stop by.
I will reply. Just give me time. 
And take a little for yourself. 

Lovin' My Jens

Sometimes I obsess.
When I love something I love it a lot.
(See: Frozen ice pops, sunflower seeds, chewing gum, kittens, Grey's Anatomy - the early years, ice cold beer, reading good books and discovering oh so cool people.)
It's been my good fortune lately to discover a couple more oh so cool people.
My Jens.


I dream about some day saying things like, "Hey Jen, Let's have lunch,"  "I'll call you tonight Jen,"  "Do you want to come over later, Jen?"  You know, all the things I say to my real life friends.

Jen No. 1 logs in at 3'2" tall but her personality is BIG. She is funny and kind and smart and sweet. All the things I happen to like about all of my other (read real life) friends.
Her marriage seems intact, for a reality star, that is.
She has obviously overcome many hurdles in her life - because she is a doctor (which is probably a little more notable than the reality star part).
I enjoy watching her get through each episode being sweet to her husband and not pausing even once when she goes out to eat and asks for linen to sit on or toting a stool to a cooking class to stand on.
I think she would be one of those friends that tells you to just get out there and try -because you can do anything - she has. If you haven't seen The Little Couple yet dial it up. (Sigh! After the heartbreak that became Jon and Kate Plus Eight Jen Arnold is restoring my faith.)

I do not know how tall Jen Lancaster is.
I do know she is wickedly funny, sarcastic, and brutally honest, everything I like about the rest of my (real life) friends.
When I read the first one of her books I immediately hopped on line and ordered three more. ( Actually I ordered FOUR more even though there were only three more at the time - I had a couple of beers and somehow magically said I desired two of one title. Oh Jen! We have so much in common! (She shops on line with interesting results after drinking too.) However, when the royalty checks arrive - remember, I did you a solid.

This Jen might be the anti-Jen Arnold (see above).
She posesses a love of cursing that would make my mother cry. But I can guarantee you this - she would not be boring!
I'm not at red alert stalker status but when my girls were home over Christmas break I was knee deep into multiple books by my new favorite author and was busted more than once saying things like, "You know, Jen has cats, too."  or "You know, Jen really likes this reality show too." To which one of the girls I gave birth to looked at me and said, "You mean the author-of-the-book-you're-reading-who-you-don't-even-really-know?!!" 
Whatever. Non-fiction can be that way. I have a window to her world.

The fun thing is - Jen Lancaster has a new book coming out and the Captain and I do make yearly treks to Chicago (Home of 'the Bean', Navy Pier, Wrigley Field and Jeeeeeeen Lancaster) to visit friends and take in a ballgame but ... wouldn't it be fab if it was during one of her book signing???!!!!!  Cubs Schmubs - Team Lancaster!!!!
I like the Jens.

5 a.m. Aaaaargh!

I know there are people who enjoy rising out of their warm beds ridiculously early.
You revel in beating the sun out of bed, enjoying the quiet in those last few moments before the rest of the world begins its' hustle and bustle.
There are no awards for this, but you do get to say cool things like, "I've been up for hours already," or "I have all of my work done before most people even think about getting out of bed."
This week I will be one of you. Because, apparently coaches and players in the son my sport loves also love to rise early and hit the ice for a rousing pre-dawn practice.
Because this is the horrifying time my alarm will be set for tomorrow morning. And Tuesday. And Thursday.

Early morning hockey practices be damned!

Coffee pot - you have been put on notice.

Habitual early risers - you have my respect.

Early morning travelers on Hwy. 210 - Consider yourself warned: The site you may see in the grey Honda Accord will not be pretty.

It's going to be a long week.

Sub-Zero ponderings

We are about a handful of days into a cold spell where we live.
I mean a c-c-c-c-old spell.

When my alarm goes off each morning I have it set on the local radio station so I can rise from my grogginess to soak up all the information I need to start the day. 
I like to wake up to the national news, have the local news read to me from the newspaper so the surprise is gone when I get my own copy out of the mailbox and to find out what the day's forcast holds for us. This past week the on-air voice has broken the bad news repeatedly with temperatures at 6 a.m. being -27, -23, -25.  It's enough to make me put the electric blanket on high and turn the alarm off altogether.

Our cars register their own complaints when we go to start them. Errrr.... Errrrr.... Errrrrrr....and pipes that aren't insulated enough against the sub-zero readings don't have the ammunition they need to withstand the cold. Some immediately cease to dispense water to their owners.
In my own home I have noticed a draft. Between the front door and the frame. It magically appeared when the artic temperatures hit. Unnoticable before, now that the temperature has dipped this low even the cats take the long way around the area.  
An old blanket now temporarily covers the gap until the days once again rise above zero. 

I monitor the thermometer in our house these days like a Kensington Palace Guard - lest one of my kids (or my sneaky, sneaky, husband) inch the setting above what I deem suitable for the budget.
"Listen here!" I announced last night, "My friend in Chicago has taken her family down to 62 degrees!!!! Sixty-two degrees I tell you! Can't you people toughen up?! I was hoping to take a vacation this year! You can pick - One less layer now - or a picture in front of Mount Rushmore in July!!!!"

Any trip away from the house has to be weighted as to whether it's worth going out into a cold car twice.

A run out for milk? Hmmmm....as quick as ten minutes and that's if I'm in and out and nothing else catches my eye.... probably doable.

A two hour movie at the local theatre - absolutely not. My daughter and I shun a chance to see Sherlock Holmes last weekend because we knew after two hours idle in the parking lot we'd have to relive the pure agony of the warming-of-the-car, chattering-of-the-teeth-full-blast-blow-of-the-heater episode it would take to leave the house. Not worth it. (We have 100+ channels on cable where it's warm -  We found something.)

Lucky for me I have no problem abandoning fashion for comfort. Ergo the daily bundling I've embarked on this week.

I'm not sure I'd care if Brad Pitt was in town and there was every chance we might end up at the same stoplight on Washington Street - I'd still be true to my layers.... earmuffs and mittens, wool lined jeans and clunky snow boots (not Uggs - I'm talking the real deal). It is what it is. Take it or leave it Brad.

I have just six words to sum up the past week in this area.

"Respect The Power of the Parka."

  

How to break bad news to your husband - Session I

"I'll have to look for the antenna to my truck next spring when the snow melts," my husband told his father the other day while the three of us were riding in the car.
"Why, what happened to it?" My father in law asked while I paged through a magazine in the back seat.
"Every once in a while it comes loose when I go in or out of the garage. I've never lost it all the way before though," said my husband a little irked.
"Yeah, it's probably under there somewhere then," agreed my father-in-law.
"Or.....," I added, "Someone may or may not have ground it up in the snowblower yesterday."

And that's how you do it.

I'm starting to get kind of good at it.
Not long ago I had to break the bad news about this one: