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:

Where have you been Bella?

What
cream cheese?

Sure, it's pretty coming down

So here's the thing. Minnesota = snow. Snow = my least favorite thing.
Me = Minnesota.

What is that all about?

There are a couple of things I will admit to enjoying about snow. One being the thrill of playing in it for roughly 11 minutes after it falls or until I get the first clump down my boot. The second thing I can admit to liking about it is that it's the only thing that offers the opportunity to crank up the snow blower. Which I actually do love. Twice. After that even running something big and motorized that kicks streams of snow hundreds of feet away just starts to become work.

I did have a new winter revelation today. I noticed that our yard seems quite a bit...well...higher now. It's pretty much even with the second step of the porch. This could come in handy in the summer in the weeding of the flowerbeds but I don't know how to work it all out yet.

Something else that I thought was funny was the car pictured above driving down 371 ahead of us this afternoon. I was with Kyle and his friend, Reno, and neither of them found it as funny as I did. Really? Harrumph. Video games have jaded kids.

It also slightly tickeled me that most of the street signs were covered with heavy clumps of snow over the names. If you didn't have a GPS and were new to the neighborhood it would be a hopeless cause to follow directions the old fashioned way. You know, "Take Norway Street to Walton Drive." Today you would have had to say, "Take Nrwa Stee to Wlto Dive." Hahahahaha.

Okay, maybe it's not that funny.

Also, something you should know in case it comes up in your own life.... Two college daughters and one 15-year-old son = anatomically correct snowmen.

In the front yard.

Nice.

The snow is here - it's officially winter. Everyone rev the snowmobiles twice in salute!

Merry Christmas! Tis the time – to send Season’s Greetings to yours from mine…
To wish a little holiday cheer - with a bonus recap of the whole darned year.
No major changes that much I’ll say – We had a year to mostly play.
No grad parties or formal things … just the chores that every season brings.
Good news, too, we’ve all been good (compared, at least, to Tiger Woods).

This year the girls both traveled far … by train and plane and too by car.
Kirstin felt the urge to go - on a girl’s road trip to New Mexico.
She rode a balloon up in the air and then later did Vegas without even a care.
Too young to gamble she kept all her dough - That’s the perfect time for someone to go.
“New Orleans by train” is what Kayla declared - then she hopped on an Amtrak and it took her there.
Over water through woods one state then the next. “It’s a great way to go” she said in a text.
Youth from the nation all joined one another, to help people there that still need to recover.
Then in October she decided to go - with a friend from high school to Colorado.
They drove out together she came back alone – but it went much faster because she flew home.
Kayla and Kirstin are roomies again – in an apartment this time with one other friend.
In between travels they study some too – to get future diplomas from SCSU.
Since hockey is something our family all shares – we drive to St. Cloud to see Husky games there. We share season passes with others from town - we split up the games and take turns driving down.

Kyle headed to high school this year – He’s growing up too. It’s just as I feared.
He plays some baseball and hockey still too – So these days that’s what Kirk and I mostly do.
To Fargo! To Buffalo! Anoka, St. Cloud! We watch from the stands and cheer ever so loud
For the goalie with 35 on his shirt and I silently pray that he doesn’t get hurt.
This last year he grew about six inches too. Finally!! (It’s what he’s been hoping to do.)
About November we both said, “Oh Sh*t,” when the state gave him a learner’s permit.
“Can I drive? Can I drive?” He asks every day. “I’m good, C’mon let me - I know the way.”
Slowly he maneuvers the neighborhood roads – if you’re driving near here just stay on your toes.
“No cell phone! No rock tunes!” You’ll hear bellowed from me – but so far he’s got us from point A to B.
He hunted and fished some this year with dad, And from the tales that I hear a good time’s always had.

The aging process has begun to progress. Kirk and I already need more and more rest.
“Was I napping?” One of us asks once a day. Or, “What was I going to get anyway?”
Small print’s a frustration we could both do without. “I can’t read that!” Kirk frequently shouts.
But all things considered we know when we curse, we’re healthy, we’re thankful and things could be worse. We went to Tulsa this year in May so we could Preston, Jen, Wiley and Gage. We had a good time they were great tour guides. Kirk drove the whole way (I was glad I can’t lie).
So no excuses, Hey! Let’s stay in touch – for communication we’ve been given so much.
Twitter us, E-mail us, drop us a line. Maybe text, call, or Facebook us sometime.
Follow my blog or log on to my site… Choose your method. They all work all right.
We’re hip, we’re modern, some news I should tell - is our home phone is gone so please call our cells.
A land line? Peeshaw! Who calls them today? It’s just one less bill now that we have to pay,
Glad Tidings, God’s blessings, may your season be bright.
May peace be yours when you lay down at night.
Do the right thing when it presents itself - and put family first above everything else.
May the season’s good wishes bring nothing but smiles
Sheila and Kirk, Kayla Kirstin and Kyle.