I'm Gonna PLOTZ!

Way back around Christmas time, Herm 2 Hockeytown began. So, what is H2H? It has to do with hockey--DUH!--and it is pretty cool. A blogger from Brazil is a HUGE Red Wings fan. He posts on a hockey blog that I read. He was lamenting the fact that, not only has he never been to a live hockey game, but he has never met another Wing fan in person. So, someone decided it would a great idea to get this guy to Detroit to see a game in person. And that is where H2H started. This past weekend was THE weekend full of events and from everything I could read, fun was had by all. Unfortunately, we couldn't make it to the fun. It is just too difficult for us to make long-range plans at this time of year--we NEVER know what the weather will be like and Detroit IS a bit of a drive for us: eight hours or more, as a matter of fact. So, I had to live vicariously through my 'fake' hockey friends and everything they posted.

I donated some money to the cause. Every dollar above and beyond the amount needed for 'Herm's' plane ticket and ticket for the game, was donated to the Children's Hospital of Michigan--a Red Wing charity. The amount donated was over $5000. For every $5 donation, you got a chance in the drawing for one of the prizes that were donated. Today, I was notified that I won an autographed puck! Johan Franzen (the Mule)--and one of the stars of the Wings--signed it. The only thing that could have made me MORE excited is if I would have gotten something that my Baby Boy signed. Life is good.

You Smell WHAT?

I can honestly say I am pretty close--in human terms--to a bloodhound, when it comes to being able to smell things. Okay, a bit of and exaggeration, but I DO have a great sense of smell. Relatively speaking, of course. It is NEVER great to be able to smell well when there are people around who haven't bathed since Methuselah was a baby--and I seem to have those types around way too often.

One day, I smelled a gas leak. Not a good feeling to have when natural gas is your main source of energy. Of course, K was at work, so I had to take care of calling the gas company and having them send someone out to do a check for any leaks. The guy spent quite a bit of time in the basement, but found nothing wrong--which WAS a good thing, for sure. Still, after he left, I continued to smell 'gas.' Now I will digress a little bit. Our garbage is collected only once a week--but I put up a bag of garbage halfway through the week. This means we have to store the bag somewhere--and for us, this is in the basement. With the amount of critters that live in and around our yard, we can't put garbage outside, even in cans. Between the raccoons and bears--not to mention the roaming dogs--SOMETHING would get into the can if it was full. And I'm not about to begin cleaning up our yard every week. So anyway, the gas smell. After searching the basement, I finally realized just what it was that I was smelling: the turkey carcass that was in the garbage. Thank goodness we were never charged for the guy to come to the house, cause I NEVER would have lived that one down.

Many nights during the spring and fall--not so much during the winter--I will run around the house looking for what is burning, cause I smell fire. It is really beginning to annoy K, because all I'm smelling is a wood fire from one of our neighbor's. The smoke/smell travels down one of our chimneys or through the cracks and crevices that an old house such as ours has, but it makes me crazy every time I smell it. But I will continue looking for what is burning whenever I smell the smoke.

Of course, I'm always smelling different things in the house. There are times I am sure I smell urine--either animal or human--but can't find a source. Again, with a house as old as ours, I just MIGHT be smelling it. When the humidity level and temperatures soar, the smells just pour out of the wood--or so I think. K doesn't agree with me, as he never smells the things I do. It took him at least a full day before he smelled the dead mouse that we had trapped in the pantry--a time when I had to endure the odor all by myself. He also can't smell the garbage can when it gets ripe--that is until it is on the verge of sprouting maggots. Is it a man-thing or just him? I really do believe that men don't have the sense of smell that we women do.

The other night, my sense of smell, once again, was in overdrive. We were at the hockey game and the first thing that hit me was the smell of stale beer and cigarettes coming from the old man a couple of feet away. As if THAT wasn't enough, someone close was wearing a very sweet-smelling cologne. It was one of those gag-producing, sweet colognes--and thankfully I would just get a whiff now and again. Top all of that off with the smells of deep-fried foods from the concession stand and my olfactory nerves were jumping like crazy. My stomach and head were jumping, too--it was NOT a good combination for feeling very well. The only saving grace was that the old man never came back for the third period, so I didn't have him to smell anymore.

The smells around me were so gag-producing the other night, that I was hoping to be able to smell the players on the ice. Some people might think that all I'm smelling is the refrigerant used for making the ice, but I beg to differ. Sometime around the middle of the second period and on into the third, I DO smell the players. It isn't a sustained smell, just a small odor as they are skating by. And why shouldn't I be able to smell them? We are no more than maybe 75 feet from the ice, at any one time there are 15 young men skating back and forth, and they are sweating to the point where they can lose 10 pounds in a game. With the nose that I have, it isn't a wonder that I catch a whiff. And that is all the more reason I am happy that I never have been in a locker room--and probably never will be.

Books

I read--a lot. And I always have. When I was in my middle school/high school years, I would walk through the house with my nose in a book. Every night after dinner, I had to wash the dishes and the only way I would do it was by propping a book up so I could read at the same time. I know I'm no different than a lot of people, but I DO seem to have a quirk that I don't know how many others have.

Whenever I find a genre that interests me, I seem to fixate on it for an extended period of time--and most of the books I read are of that genre. During the middle school years, I fixated on Gothic romance and read everything I could get my hands on by Daphne du Maurier, as well as authors I don't remember. This obsession went on for at least two years before it ended. After that, it took quite a while before I fixated on something else and just focused mostly on best sellers.

I believe the next genre I read through was Native American-based fiction. I then moved on to Jewish fiction--Exodus, QB VII, Trinity, and other works by Leon Uris. After that I read everything I could by James A. Michener. Michener was quite a haul, as the man never wrote a short novel--every book was an undertaking. I've gone through Christian fiction, Apocalyptic fiction, the classics, paranormal/supernatural, detective, and sci-fi. (I might have even fixated on some non-fiction along the way, but don't recall what at the moment.) Throughout all of this time, I continued to read books of various other genres, but I always floated around my obsession until it worked itself out of my system--which it always seems to do.

These days I am reading books that are a combination of genres that I have read in the past. There are three series by three different authors that I am loving at the moment. They are detective/supernatural/fantasy novels that are easy to read and I devour them like a piece of my from-scratch red velvet cake. They are that delicious.

Jim Butcher has created the character Harry Dresden. Harry is a wizard who works out of modern day, downtown Chicago. He helps the police solve magical crimes, while he is working for and against the supernatural world. I first was introduced to the character of Harry Dresden when I watched the much too short-lived series that was on the Sci-Fi channel. I fell in love with the character and the stories and needed to read the books. I am now waiting for the newest book, number 12, which will come out in April.

While I was waiting for the next Dresden installment, I found Mike Carey and his character Felix Castor. Felix is a bit different than Dresden, as he is an exorcist based in London. Still, the feel of the books in this series are quite similar to the Dresden series. Felix is only featured in two books, so far, and I am waiting for book number three, which will be available in paperback in August.

The third series I'm reading, I have just begun. Actually, I'm only halfway through the first book and am completely and totally hooked. The author is Simon R. Green and his character is John Taylor--and he does his work in The Nightside, which is 'that square mile of Hell in the middle of London, where it's always three A.M.' Besides loving the genre, how in the world can you NOT love a book that has lines like this:

"I knew it was going to be a bad day when I woke up to find my rabbit's foot had grown itself a new rabbit."

and

"Betty and Lucy Coltrane. Best damned bouncers in the business...Fiercer than pit bulls and cheaper to run. Married to each other. They had a dog once, but they ate it."

and

"Rats have been known to jump back into open sewers, just to get away from the smell of an approaching Razor Eddie."

Number 10 in the series was just published, so I will be able to read these for a while.

I really can't wait to see what my fixation will be after I'm done with these books. I only hope it won't be Harlequin romances--cause that would mean I am totally in my dotage, or suffering from Alzheimer's.

Updating

I don't know, but it seems as if I've been 'off my feed' a bit here lately. A week ago Monday, I had an appointment with my internist and came away with another prescription for my high blood pressure. While I'm not as bad as I have been before, I am experiencing some side-effects and think that's why I'm not myself. So far, the 'funky feeling head' has kind of resolved itself--although it is hard to say for sure because my sleep is not as it should be. Everyone knows I pretty much keep vampire hours, but since going on the new meds, it is even worse. I am an insomniac WAY later than I would like to be and then I sleep the sleep of the dead for 6-8 hours--and I don't even get up to go to the bathroom. This wouldn't be so bad if the sleep was restful, but I seem to wake up quite tired. Then I have the times when I fall asleep and wake up after 4 hours--and can't get back to sleep again. (This is where I am today.) Of course, I feel like crap for the entire day. Beside this, I am experiencing swelling in my lower legs and feet. (NOT an uncommon thing with BP meds.) I'm still waiting to see if things will resolve themselves before calling the dr--but I highly doubt it will happen. Oh, well, things will straighten out one way or another.

**********

The weather has been quite fine lately. While the temp hasn't been much over the high 40s, it still is sunny and the snow is melting away--slowly, for sure, but melting. I'm actually able to see about 1/2 of the front of the wall on my wall garden already--but won't be able to work the soil for another month at the very least. There will be some mightly pissed off people in the next month or so: I've predicted another one--if not two--more HUGE snow storms before we can finally say 'hello' to spring. Living here my whole life, I've seen it happen every year--and this year should be no different.

**********

K still has about two more weeks of overtime before it's done for a while. I'm not exactly sure WHEN he had his last day off, but I think it was earlier this month. As things stand, he has to take all of the overtime offered, cause we never know when there will be more. His next paycheck should be for 200 hours of work*--and that is crazy. No wonder he doesn't do anything but sleep and (barely) eat when he is at home.

**********

Well, with all of the time K has been working, he does have a few things to look forward to. First, we are going to see Alice Cooper in concert in July. I don't know that either of us were ever HUGE fans of Alice, but we were fans, nonetheless. From everything I've read, the man puts on quite a concert and it should be a lot of fun. Now that we are getting into our dotage, I think we are reverting back to adolescence and doing everything we couldn't afford way back in the day. ;)

K has scheduled vacation time around Labor Day, so that we can go to St Paul for the Renaissance Fair. Labor Day weekend is a big time for the Fair, so it should be a good time. As it is, K will have almost two weeks off, so we might just head out west a bit after our visit with The Youngest. If things work out well, we will go to Mount Rushmore and maybe Wall Drug and the Corn Palace. I'm sure we will wander around the Badlands a bit, too. Seeing as K won't take me to Finland, I guess we will 'see America first.' ;)

**********

Time is winding down for hockey, so we will be very busy going to the last games of the (regular) season. Our local team, the Rangers, are home for three games this weekend, so that is where we will be. I'm hoping K will be able to hold up--he will be going to work at 3:00 AM, coming home at 4:00 PM, taking a nap, and then we will be at the arena by 7:00 PM. We will have to eat dinner some time during the hours he's at home, too, but I'm sure we won't miss too many meals. These games will end the regular season and we still don't know HOW the playoffs will work, so I'm looking forward to this. We probably won't travel to any playoff games, so we might not get a chance to see anymore till next year. Time will tell, though.

The Red Wings are--finally--getting their act together and winning more games. Right now they are in a playoff position, but there still are enough games left where it isn't a sure thing that they will make it. It would be a shame if they don't make it, as this would be the first time in two decades--which is a record for North American sports. It has been a bad year for the Wings, but hopefully they will have a long playoff run.

*This is his time-and-a-half and double-time pay. He didn't actually WORK 200 hours in two weeks. ;)

More 'Not Always Right'

I have featured many 'too stupid to live' stories from Not Always Right and many of them are kind of hard to accept. However, considering this one comes from the year 1999--just about the time some people were beginning to use computers--I will accept this as the honest truth. I laughed long and loud when I read this--hope you do, too!

(This happened to a friend who worked as tech support at an ISP around 1999.)

Me: “Thanks for calling [ISP] how can I help you?”

Customer: “Hi, I was buying this skin care cream online, and then something happened. I need you to send someone here!”

Me: “Alright, Ma’am, can you tell me what happened?”

Customer: “The internet swallowed my credit card!”

Me: “I see, can you describe how it happened?”

Customer: “I put the cream in the basket, clicked the checkout option and then it said it was going to ask for my credit card on the next step, then it simply swallowed it!”

(I go through 10 minutes of attempts to try and find out what actually happened, before sending someone over. It turns out she inserted the credit card inside the Floppy Drive to pay the order.)

Vajazzling

I KNOW I'm out of the loop. I KNOW I'm a hick. I KNOW I don't pay much attention to things that aren't hockey. But HOW did I miss this one? Vajazzling. As in 'adding Swarovski crystals to your lady bits.' Yeah. If you need to read some more, you can find an article here. Now I know for sure: If I live long enough, I WILL have heard everything.

The Owl Box

So, as if I don't spend enough time on the computer, I now have a new fascination. Someone in California put a video camera in an owl nest box and there now is streaming video of her and the five eggs she has laid. I could just watch this all day long! Anyway, if you want to see a little bit of nature that you probably don't get a chance to see very often, here is the link.

Free video chat by Ustream

Memories

When my girls were young, we were constantly hauling them to birthday parties. At a minimum, they were invited to two per month--and most times there were more. I don't know how kids' parties are done today, but back then no one had parties at home. My girls were invited to pool parties--a room was rented at a local hotel and the kids used the pool--or to McDonald's or to the roller rink. I even believe one of them went to the local university's phys ed complex for a day of 'fun.' But one thing is sure, none of the parents wanted to put on a party in the home. Except for me.

I got very depressed when I realized that parents didn't want to be bothered to put on parties for their kids. They much rather paid someone else to plan, cook, and organize parties than to put in the time and effort needed to do something their kids would remember. And I vowed to never pay someone else to put on a party for my girls--and I didn't.

My girls didn't get 'full-blown' parties every year. Some years they just had a couple of friends over for a sleepover or we brought them to see a movie. Part of the reason was because for each birthday, I had to put on two or three celebrations. First, we had a party for friends, next we had one for the neighborhood kids, and then we had a family party--which usually was the biggest of the three. By the end of 'birthday weekend,' I was a wreck--and it took me many, many days to recover.

Instead of buying a cake from a bakery, I taught myself to do cake decorating. For many years, I made decorated cakes every month or so--sometimes for practice, sometimes for an occasion. Along with the cake, I made all of the food served, did all of the decorating, and planned the activities. And even though it was an exhausting endeavor, I'm glad I did it all. I believe I made memories that will last for a lifetime.

One party we had for my youngest was an old-fashioned birthday party. The kids played pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey and drop-the-clothespin-in-the-bottle. We played musical chairs and hot potato. Everyone got goodie bags and there were prizes for all of the games. Hot dogs and potato chips were served, the gifts were opened, cake and ice cream was eaten, and the kids went home--tired and happy. If I remember correctly, there were almost 20 girls at that party.

The party that stands out for the oldest was the one I put on when she was in fourth grade. That year I bought the gaudiest, boldest, and most obnoxious make-up I could find. I gathered hair accessories and clothing and let the girls have a dress-up party. To this day, girls that were at that party still mention it to the oldest. They had a great time and it was one of the most successful parties I ever put together. Now, I'm not too sure the other parents thought that the entire episode was so great: The girls looked like cheap street walkers when they left my house. I let them leave without washing their faces and there were some frightened and upset looks on some of the parent's faces when they saw their little girls--and I loved every minute of it. :D

I certainly hope that I just had to deal with some lousy parents in my day--and believe me, there WERE some pretty awful ones. Maybe parents are learning how much their kids welcome the time and effort they put into something, rather than how much money is spent. At least, I hope this is the case. Besides, I think I had just as much fun as the kids did whenever I 'threw' a party.

I WANT!!!!!!

While I am pretty much a cat person, I do love me some certain kinds of dogs. And when I say 'dog,' I mean a REAL dog--not some dog wanna-be, like a chihuahua, for example. I tend to like really big dogs like Great Pyrenees,

St Bernards,

bloodhounds,

Irish wolfhounds,

Newfoundlands,

etc. Unfortunately, they are just too darn big for me to have in this house--and I like having a cat because of the independence it allows us. (Of course, all this being said, I would NEVER turn down a Westie

if someone offered one to me. ;))

All of this leads me to what I actually wanted to post in the first place. Via I Has A Hotdog--I think this is absolutely hysterical! (I may want to own him, but I would NOT want to be the one having to make sure he doesn't get skin infections because of the wrinkly skin-folds!)


Basset hounds just may be my favorite dogs--and one would fit so well here: a short, couch potato which tends toward being overweight.* MY kind of dog! :D


*I just may have been a basset hound in another life. ;)

WHY??????

I cannot, in any way, shape or form, understand why someone would leave the house dressed like this. Does she not see how this is not flattering? Or is she delusional? Or does she just not care? I really don't think she doesn't care--after all, there was quite a bit of thought put into this outfit.* And the outfit would probably be quite cute on a little girl, maybe even a teenager, but definitely NOT a grown, overweight woman!!! People, PLEASE look in a mirror before leaving the house! PLEASE!!!!!

(again, we get to thank People of Walmart for this.)

*PS: Please check to make sure you are wearing the correct color underwear, also. We do NOT need to know the color of your undergarments!

People Are So, So Stupid

Again, I have to thank Not Always Right for this one:

Customer: “My cable box is broken.”

Me: “What seems to be the issue?”

Customer: “Roughly every 1 minute the channel goes up. I tried turning it off and on, I tried unplugging it, I made sure no one was sitting on the remote, nothing works, you guys gave me a broken box!”

Me: “What does it currently show on the front of the box sir?”

Customer: “Channel 932.”

Me: “And what time is it sir?”

Customer: “9:32. Oh.” *hangs up*

AND:

Me: “Hello, you’re through to [Broadband Company]. How can I help?”

Customer: “I’m a new customer and I’d like some help with setting up my router. I can’t get the broadband to work.”

Me: “Of course I can help you. If you want to start by turning your computer on, we’ll see what we can do.”

Customer: “What computer?”

Me: “Sir, you need a computer to access the internet with this router.”

Customer: “No one told me that.”

Me: “Sir, how do you expect to access the internet without a computer?”

Customer: “So you’re saying I have to buy a computer? That’s another expense!” *hangs up*

Common Ground

You know when you have to pee so badly that when you finally get to sit on the toilet, it turns out to be the best thing to happen to you all day? Yeah, I had one of those moments tonight. ;D

Taxes

I am a math geek. Let me restate that: I am a HUGE math geek. I do differential equations and solve equations with complex numbers for fun. I love quadratic equations and polynomials. The most fun I have had is when I could use at least two sheets of notebook paper to solve an algebra problem. Pure heaven.

I took four years of math in high school. I can solve algebra problems with very little difficulty, but I can't do everyday math. I can't add numbers in my head, I have trouble remembering my multiplication tables, and it is almost impossible for me to figure out percentages. K is the genius when it comes to everyday, practical math, yet he wants to defer to me whenever it comes to doing our taxes. NOT GOING TO HAPPEN! My first summer job lasted six weeks. I did my income taxes by myself. I screwed the whole thing up so badly--AND sent the screwed up forms in--that I vowed to NEVER have anything to do with income taxes ever again. I have kept my promise.

For the past 15? 20? years, we have gone to a tax preparer to do our taxes. He has always done very well for us. Okay, we paid way too much since no longer being able to use the long-form, but at least they got done and they got done correctly. For the last couple of years, K has made noises about doing the taxes 'ourselves.' I don't know if he really understands that 'ourselves' means HIMSELF, but he went out and bought a copy of TurboTax. I installed the program on the computer and told him that is the last I want to know about our taxes. He spent over three hours working at the computer. When he left the computer room, I asked him how it went. He just mumbled at me. I have a feeling he just wasted $50+.

But I will NOT say "I told you so."

Bottles and Cans

A number of years ago, in an attempt to curb littering, the state of Michigan instituted a deposit/refund policy for bottles and cans. This was done after the citizenry voted overwhelmingly in the affirmative--and I was one of the voters that thought this was a great idea. I STILL think it's a great idea--until I walk into the mudroom/back entry of our house. O.M.G!!!!!!

A little background: K and I don't like bringing the cans/bottles back to the store. It isn't difficult--it just is time consuming. (I really wish they had home pick-up service for this. :D) These days, most of the stores have automatic bottle/can machines, so the consumer has to take care of everything his/herself. As I said, it isn't difficult and can be done in a fairly timely manner, unless it's the weekend after a big party at a college party-house--THAT can keep you away from the machines for a long, long time. I am absolutely OCD about the bottles--I wash each one before putting it away, so as not to attract bugs, so I don't have a mess to deal with while handling them. I put the cans into grocery bags in as organized a manner as possible--mostly to keep the number of bags to a minimum, but to also keep the room looking as good as possible. It is not working these days.

As of today, I have 11 grocery bags full of cans and bottles in my mudroom. The bags are behind the door and it is getting difficult to open it far enough to get in and out of the house. It doesn't look like K will be bringing any cans back any time soon. I guess this will be up to me to do. I can only hope that some organization comes around for a can/bottle drive within the next few days. I don't think that will happen. {sigh}

ANOTHER Website I Didn't Need To Find

Chuck Lorre has been part of some very successful sitcoms as a writer, director, or producer. He has been involved with Dharma & Greg, Grace Under Fire, Cybill, Two and a Half Men, and Big Bang Theory. For anyone who watches the final credits, the 'vanity cards' that often appear at the end of the credits are familiar. Unfortunately, they are onscreen for such a short time that they are hard to read without the use of a VCR or DVR, as you need to pause the credits to finish reading. Or there is always the interwebs, where you can find EVERYTHING! Yes, there is a site where all of the 'vanity cards' are and you can read them at your leisure. Go here for some extremely good reading--although, not all are winners, the majority are pretty good. I'm still chuckling over #280--and I will post it here for your enjoyment.

CHUCK LORRE PRODUCTIONS, #280

You know you're getting old when... You throw your back out on the toilet. You shave your ears. Your second wife calls your first wife “ma’am.” You're genuinely excited when your prescriptions arrive in the mail. You read the obits in the newspaper to check the ages of the dead people. You read a newspaper. You're bummed out that the smokin’ hot chick from Body Heat now looks like William Shatner in drag. You say “bummed out.” Women your age have real breasts and artificial hips. Masturbation leaves you winded. You try to amuse the kid hooking up your Blu-ray player by telling him about Betamax. You pee in morse code -- dots and dashes -- and have to look down to see when you’re done. Your car radio is set to “classic rock” so you have something to switch to during NPR pledge drives. Your doctor says things like, “that’s normal for a man your age” and “consider yourself lucky.” Beneath your chin is what appears to be a neck skin hammock. Beneath your penis is what appears to be two ping pong balls hanging from a flesh-colored bolo tie. You choose your new car because it offers great lumbar support and convenient cup holders. Watching “The Who” perform at the Superbowl made you inconsolably sad. You wonder if the orgasm you're about to have will actually end your life. Your doctor tells you a new medication will reduce the amount of semen in your body and your only response is, “so what.” Your car radio is set to “classic rock” so you have something to... oh, wait, I already did that one.

Hijacked Email

Last night, I began getting emails from places and people I had never heard of. The first one I got was from a company, saying it was an auto-reply to an email I had sent. Nope, never sent one. There were no hyperlinks or attachments, so I didn't feel as if this was a virus or anything else ominous. Before turning the computer off for the night, I had already received about 20 emails, all from different people. The only thing they all had in common: Nancy's Notions was the first recipient in all of these. Some of the later emails were from people who had been getting these same emails, so I knew something was up. Obviously, someone's email account had been hijacked.

When I turned the computer on today, I was expecting a ton of emails that I would need to delete. There were NO bogus emails in my inbox. ????????????? I have no idea what happened. Obviously, the problem was corrected, but why would any bogus emails just disappear? I can't believe that I didn't get any new ones before someone had a chance to fix the problem. So this leaves me with a problem: Did I get all of my mail today? This interweb business can be frustrating.

A Project

I am a craft-project-aholic. I have tried many, many different crafts over the years and don't seem to keep up with most of them. Here are some I have done: stamping, scrapbooking, sewing, counted cross stitch, crewel embroidery, regular embroidery, crocheting, knitting, painting, and more that I have forgotten about. These days, I try to keep up with my sewing, crocheting, and counted cross stitch, and that's all. Despite the fact that these are crafts I actually enjoy doing, a lot, I don't spend enough time to complete projects I have begun. And I am hoping to change that by trying to work on SOMETHING for a minimum of 15 minutes every day. Believe me, once I get started, I will not stop after 15 minutes, so projects WILL get completed. Last night, I started and completed one of the projects I have been talking about for the last couple of months.

I buy T-shirts. I try to get a T-shirt to commemorate everything I want to remember. Last year in Florida, I bought a dozen shirts--one from every activity/town we saw. I will never wear all of the shirts, so I decided to do something with them. After looking around for ideas, I rejected several ideas, including a 'memory quilt.' This got me to thinking and I decided to do a 'memory scarf' instead. I also decided that I wanted a Red Wing scarf before a Florida one, so I took my T-shirts from the 2008-2009 Cup winning season and made the scarf. And here is the result:




I think it came out okay.

And You Thought YOUR Job Was Bad

From mental_floss magazine:

Grooms of the Stool were unfortunate groomsmen paid to thoroughly wipe the King of England's rear and then inspect the stool for signs of illness. While the job seems like a good argument for overthrowing the monarch, it was actually an enviable position in the day.

Don't really want to over-think this one. YIKES!

OMG!!!!

Okay, after gaining weight, two pregnancies, breast-feeding, and age, the 'girls' aren't very perky these days. Let's face it, they are hanging pretty low. But NOT as bad as this:




That is really sad, scary, fascinating, upsetting--all at once.

(via People of Walmart.)

26 Years Ago

Today is my Baby's birthday--she turns 26. It was quite an adventure, that day 26 years ago.

All of the fun began on 2 March. It was a Friday--the last day of school for The Oldest before spring break began. As was the usual case, K brought her to stay with The Mother for break. I stayed behind because I was in the nesting phase of my pregnancy, big time. That day found me washing, drying, and ironing curtains. By the time K got home, I had the ironing board set up in the living room so that I could watch TV while ironing. Too busy to actually fix a meal, I asked K to go out and pick up some food--I was HUNGRY!!! He came home with the double Whopper with cheese, fries, and chocolate shake I asked for. (I SAID I was HUNGRY!) After eating, I got back to my curtains.

With one of the breakfast nook curtains on the ironing board, I had the need to go to the bathroom. After sitting for a while, I realized I couldn't stop peeing--and then it occurred to me that my water had broken. And the 'waters' wouldn't stop. It WAS quite disgusting, to say the least. We won't discuss the state of my clothes as we left the house, but it WAS 2 March and I WAS wearing a pair of sandals to go to the hospital. The time was about 8:00 PM. I hadn't had a contraction, yet, but considering I gave birth to The Oldest 45 minutes after getting to the hospital, we felt as if going to the hospital immediately was the most prudent thing to do.

The OB wing wasn't very busy when we got there, so they decided to keep me--even though I STILL hadn't had a contraction. It made me feel a whole lot better to be allowed to stay--I wasn't in any mood to give birth at home. My obstetrician came in to see me and said I wouldn't have the baby until 2:00 AM, at the earliest. And so we waited.

I always said I would have had more kids if I could have gotten pregnant and given birth the following day. I didn't do pregnancy well--I had problems with both of mine, with high blood pressure being the least of the problems. However, I did labor and delivery VERY well, and this time was no different from the first. I was hooked up to a fetal monitor and K watched it and told me whenever I had a contraction--that is how mild they were. Finally, around midnight, I would feel something and ask him if I was having a contraction. For the next hour or so, the contractions continually got stronger, but didn't really bother me too much. Around 1:30 AM, I began feeling as if things were getting started--AND I was beginning to feel pain. A LOT OF PAIN.

Shortly after 2:00 AM, the doctor was called and the preparations began for the birth. I had gone from 'it will be a while till this happens' to 'OMG she's ready to drop the kid' in a matter of 15 minutes. They barely got everything in place and my daughter was born--the time was 2:30 AM. And I still remember it like it was yesterday.

I just got off of the phone with my Baby Girl--she needed to hear the annual singing of! :) Birthdays just aren't birthdays without my rendition of the song. Happy Birthday, Baby Girl!

Musings

K and I grew up about three miles from each other, in different towns. There were five little towns that made up the core of our school system, with the town I grew up in the largest and most central. While we all went to the same elementary school and high school, all of us seemed to associate only with those from our own town--at least until high school and the dating years. ;) And so, this story is set up.

The guys in K's town seemed to have a closeness that was stronger than most. There didn't seem to be a class structure: Money, power, etc, didn't mean a thing when it came to the guys hanging together. And the guys were well known by everyone in the towns--they actually were referred to as the "(town name) Mafia." I know they had themselves a shoplifting ring and they drank an awful lot, but beyond that, I never asked and was never told what went on. Thing is, they weren't violent--or at least no one thought of them as violent. I guess what they did would be considered 'victimless crimes.' And until our late years in high school, I don't believe any of the guys were our local drug connections--that came much, much later. As I said, I never asked questions and only know a little about the shoplifting--and I know NOTHING about what K may or may not have done. And I really don't want to know.

While K and his twin brother were close, K had another friend that was as close to him as any brother could be. This friend was R, my high school boyfriend. R and I got together when I was in tenth grade and stayed together until I graduated. By this time, K and R were no longer friends. R and I spent a lot of time with K's twin and his girlfriend, so I never knew there was any problem between K and R--that is, until K and I started dating a few months after R and I broke up. K then told me the story--but left out WAY too many details.

K and R had a fight. And from what I can surmise, it was the 'FIGHT OF ALL TIMES.' I have no idea what it could possibly have been about, but it must have been serious. K is one of the most even-tempered person you could ever meet, and for him to get mad enough to fight, things had to be serious. Whatever the fight was about, it was physical and quite violent. And R said he would 'kill' K if he ever got in his way. He took to wearing a heavy chain around his neck to use as a weapon, if need be. I don't believe the two of them ever talked again--and I knew nothing of this until after K and I were together for a while. This is why my going out with R after K and I got together was the worst thing I could possibly have ever done--and why I almost lost K in the process. And I still would love to know what the fight was all about.

Dreams

I don't remember my dreams--well, hardly ever. I would assume that I dream every night, but I couldn't prove it. So, whenever I DO remember a dream, it is a big deal to me. This weekend, I remembered a dream.

As I have said before, whenever we travel, I sleep. On Saturday we drove to Wisconsin for one of our overnight road trips and, as usual, I slept all the way there. A few miles out of Appleton, K woke me up from my sleep. I was quite upset about this, because I had wanted to finish the dream I was having. (And no, it was NOT about my Baby Boy.) Here is my very strange dream:

There were people showing me a wolf, which I was petting. It was not like any wolf you have ever seen. This wolf had fur that was a cross between a puli:




and a pomeranian:




and had a nose like a hedgehog:




I was truly amazed that this animal didn't look anything like a wolf and the handler said that wolves don't really look like wolves until they are two years old. She also said that you could drive down the road past one and never know that it was a wolf. And that is when K woke me up. I really wanted to go back to sleep and pet the wolf some more--and find out what was going to happen next. But, I will never know.