Missouri Casual

I've been in the market for a gently used new-to-me sofa for the upstairs living room and/or a sectional for the downstairs room. I love Craigslist and have been going back and forth all day with sellers. I even treked out far enough into Kansas to possibly hit Colorado with Alex...only to find she changed her mind, she wants me to get it out tonight or forget it. Not having a truck, I forgot it. It's okay, I've got a visit with a cream colored microsuede sectional tomorrow (cross fingers).

But in checking on some other possibilities this evening, I came across a $400 metal birdcage. I really wanted to know what a $400 birdcage looks like...so I clicked. I can't take my eyes off the ohmygoshimgladthisisntmyneighborbeautiful birdcage!


Pants apprently not included. Nor necessary! Hey this is Missouri, after all.
*don't forget to say something on yesterday's post if you want to win the Amazon gift card!

A Calendar Of Hot Flashin Chicks, I'd Buy One!

I have no idea who nominated me for this, but nonetheless, clearly he/she knows a worn down, tired 40-going-on-41 year old mom whose jeans no longer fit hottie when he/she sees one!



I of course needed to call John right away and tell him about this....and being the amazing support he is, he said "Really? So what is this about? Is it some middle-age women with hot flashes, what?" And while that COULD be funny, sadly, he was serious...it didn't cross his mind it would be something else. Pshh! I'm doing the Tweightloss challenge, down 2 pounds (3 yesterday, but I gained it back in my sleep). When I'm feeling less like this could be a better explanation, I'm so gonna thump him.

Pineapples Make The World Go Round (Not an Ad, But They Do!)

When John came home and told me this, I had to check it out for myself. It's true--read it here. The DNC is meeting in Colorado and has issued a few food guidelines, banning fried foods and at least one caterer reported pineapples were also a no-no. Pineapples, it seems, leaves too large a carbon footprint getting them from Hawaii to here.

Leaves a few Hawaiians feeling a little angry to say the least. Last time I checked, they were part of the United States...this is a major export for Hawaii. And not only that--pineapples are just darn tasty! I think to appease angry Hawaiian voters at this point, a way to get them here without adding extra carbon footprints can be found. How, though? Wait! I have an idea, we can double up...does anyone have Al's number?

As for the Southerners, I can't help you there. We can get the pineapples here on a private jet, but I just don't know how to take unhealthy out of fried food. So you can't have them. Because, while you might be an adult fatty (clearly you don't know how to take care of yourself and exercise self control) you AREN'T THE BOSS OF YOU! So...yeah. No fried food for you.

The Jerky Women Rule --Read At Risk Of Ruining Your Jerky Treat Love

Alrighty a few days later, if you read the other days' post, you've probably been sleepless wondering what in the world I have to show you! Here it is, my grandest purchase of the day, my baby, my new favorite find. I'm the owner of a fine avocado green West Bend electric percolator. I've wanted one for the longest time-I read on a blog somewhere coffee is better in a percolator, and I couldn't shake the thought until I found one! So when my friend Kelly (new blog up) came for a visit last week, we first hit our favorite thrift store (where I found goodies, but not this one). Making our way back home with the loot, we stopped into an estate sale where I saw it...my heart skipped a few, I went to the shelf it sat on, picked it up, held it over my head so I could see the price tag on the bottom, and knew when I saw $1 I'd found my percolator. It does make fantastic coffee! We took it home (along with my new giant mondo huge vintage electric stand mixer/grinder/ice crusher/blender) and made Kelly and myself coffee. Not any coffee, mind you, but DD coffee. Kelly, being the bff she is, brought down a dozen DD and a bag of coffee.

Here's my new bff, my avocado green percolator:

Yeah yeah I burned again, I know. Sunscreen. I almost never burn twice. But I was at the pool for three hours Tuesday, that'll probably do it. If only my friend Pam hadn't brought cold grapes...but she did. And now I'm certain my chest is going to look like a piece of jerky before the summer is out. I'll be a jerky woman.

There's a group of women who congregate and hoard one end of our neighborhood pool. They're exclusive, and have probably been there since the beginning of the neighborhood. They've got matching towels, matching towel clips (I want some but can't justify them) and imo, shouldn't be wearing the two pieces they wear. Think jerky glistening from an oil rubdown hanging over and out and sagging from behind.

It's likely the QT cups they tote along aren't filled with water or tea, but I can't be certain, so I refuse to infer anything otherwise. They buy the same type of raft, whichever is the newest 'style' is that year and when they overheat, they congregate in the deep end, holding the group together by grabbing each other's raft edges. They clog up the end of the pool and block entrance to the ladder. If you're lucky enough to get by the group, you'd be brave to attempt exit from that ladder--it's kind of like climbing a dipstick--you'll need suction cups to get a grip. They're the jerky women--their kids are grown, they have a lot of time on their hands and live some of the more gigantic homes in the neighborhood. I fear by the looks of me, I could be mistaken for a member of the jerky women. I'm off to buy some sunscreen today.

Random shot of the three cats--they hang out here most of the day. GiGi top, then Jack, then Scat (I think I'll call him Scat now).

I took this test I saw on another blog I don't read (a high cuss-o-meter rating--I think she hangs out with JenGi) and here's my cuss-o-meter result:

OnePlusYou Quizzes and Widgets

Sunday we take off for Memphis--it's finally time to get to the Baptist Convention and talk Miracle Word. I was at the church yesterday being brought up to speed and looks as if I've got some PowerPoint revisions to spend my day with today. I'd be extremely excited, except one of the activities we're signed up to do is garden. Gardening in the middle of summer in Memphis sounds fantastic, I'm not sure why I didn't think of this before!

It's Getting A Little Steamy In Here

I never thought the day would come when I'd do this, but go Hillary! I want her to win...I really really do! Because I'd much rather smoke a stogie while running, glancing behind, running, running, going airborn and hitting the ground for cover than hang out in the chicken coop. It's just how I am.

And if she does win and nomination (oh please please please)? I'm not giving away any obvious secrets when I say I think I know who her running mate will be...

Alrighty I'm off to use my new steam mop I got for Mother's Day. The one John gave me to replace the one he broke. The one he broke is the one he gave me for Christmas. Hey, wait...there's something very wrong here...John! Johnnnnnnnn! GET IN HERE!!!!

Stacey's Biggest News This Week! (Now that I re-read the post, I really don't get out much)

Okay I have some pretty exciting news I'm itching to share! First things first, though....as I went to upload the pictures I took tonight, I realized I'm wearing the same dang shirt I seem to ALWAYS wear when I post photos. My Do Not Remove Before Flight shirt I won from Pilot adorable's John's site. Could anything I say convince you that I don't live in this shirt? I really don't!! It doesn't look good for me though, so I'm just going to end it there! But the news is too exciting to change and redo the post. Okay:

Remember my bathroom walls? The ones that look like a giant prom corsage from 1989 was thrown up against them?Wait! Two more things....I have learned: 1) I'll need brighter lighting to take a photo using the mirror to bounce the image. Because the flash isn't appealing. (sorry) HOWEVER the flash was in fact, able to pick up the toothpaste splatters from the past week all over my side of the mirror. Not gonna lie, it's my side of the bathroom. So 2) maybe clean the mirrors first.

Okay NOW! Look behind me and yes yes yes it IS what you think! A ladder and a half naked wall. I did my "John, hon, I'm going to start steaming the wallpaper from the bathroom walls this weekend because I don't think I can take it anymore" thing. I know what comes next and while an ultra feminist might be insulted, I happen to love this. John says "I'll do it, you don't know how!" I don't think it's an insult, in fact I believe I have a nice thing going on here.

^^Infamous 8X magnification mirror I have a love/hate thing going on with on the counter^^

So now that the walls are nearly bare, and the under primer is actually very close to the tan color I intend to paint it (with touches of chocolate and aqua from the bedroom somewhere here), I'm confident I'll feel free to post even more bathroom photos in the future. It's a win/win development!

Look closely in the 'water closet' which is really just a claustrophobic little cubby with a toilet, ceiling vent and magazines thrown about....(thinking of doing something whack with that room, idk) and you'll see GiGi the cat. In a second, she'll be looking at me to see if I'm watching. If I am, she'll stare back until I get bored with that. If no, then she'll balance herself over the edge by her tummy and drink half the water out of the toilet before lifting her head and sliding back to the floor.

My St. Patrick's Day mini-kit is up and ready for download at Nicoal Goes Digi Scrapping. Get on over there and grab it!

It All Catches Up With Me Eventually......

Today was a milestone for my son, Cody. He got through that lifeguard interview awhile back, passed his certification this weekend and will go pick up his suits after school tomorrow. And drop off the information his employer needs to do the direct deposit to his new checking account.

New account meant today we had to drive across town (by our old neighborhood) and empty out the old account he kept his soccer reffing earnings in. It was just a savings account, so today my boy advanced to a student checking/debit account at a bank near our home. So today..... there was no hiding it any longer, I had to come clean. If there was a way around it, I'd have taken it--if I thought he wouldn't have noticed, I wouldn't have mentioned it. But it's Cody. Cody doesn't forget things. Certainly not how much money he had in his account. So today before we headed out on our banking adventure, I made my pitch:

"Hey Code?"

"Huh?"

"Yay for you, bud! Wow. You're a lifeguard! Wow. Wow...that's very cool. Hey...how much was that certification class Dad paid for last weekend? $130 or something?"

"Yeah"

"Ohhhhhh...."

"Why?"

"Well don't worry about it, no need to pay this back."

"Ma-ah-mmmm...WHAT did you do?"

So I finally got the money monkey off my back and attempted to convince him his end was better anyway. I only blatantly stole borrowed $100 last year in the Great Checking Account Error, covered only because I have one child who doesn't take after us. He actually keeps his money. In the bank! Pshh...from under what rock did this boy crawl?

Between you and me, while he feigned disappointment, I know he expects it. Come on, it's me after all! He's probably already thinking about a separate "help support my mother who will one day be sorry she ran, didn't walk, to spend her check the second it arrived in the mail" account. Sure, he'll lecture, he'll make like he thinks I can do better, but he'll have little faith in my money-saving abilities.

Cut It!

Tomorrow is haircut day. Big deal, you might say. Well it kinda is. I don't have my hair cut professionaly often. Only when I'm getting quite frustrated with my hair, when it just won't do anything. If it's just a little out of line, I pick up my scissors a snip snap and tah dah!

I have been known to have my hair cut when I'm super depressed, though. You probably won't ever see the pictures of me when Cody was a baby. I'd gained a lot of weight and didn't have many clothes or much money with which to purchase new clothes that fit. One night I just up and left the house with below-the-shoulder hair and returned with boy hair. Shorter than John's, I tell you. And I had these whispy little sideburns, too. Back then I took myself very seriously--and uh oh, this was.not.okay.

I'm not sure why I did it, but I recall sitting in that chair as if it were yesterday. I told the gal "Oh, just do whatever you think will look good." OH my gosh--who SAYS this? What the......why? If I ever run into the me from back then, I think I'll *&%#$ slap her. She'd deserve it and more for uttering the most idiodic thing a woman with self-esteem issues ( Believe it or not, I had 'issues' another lifetime ago. Big time.) could possibly utter to a hairdresser. So, you already know the end. Boy cut. I think I mentioned I've inherited my daddy's basket-ball sized head with lips that would rival anything you could do with a needle and a vial of botox. Take away my hair and I'm kind of a dead ringer for Ed Asner meets white Oprah.

However! my hairdresser of these past few years has been near and dear to me--my beautiful niece Angie. I feel fearless with her behind my pump-up-chair (I still won't say 'yeah, yeah, whatever, do whatever!'). I was contemplating emulating her new cut--a beautiful shoulder length bob. But then I got to thinking--I'm 40. I don't know how much longer I can pull off longer hair before I hear I look a lot like Tyne Daly.

I'm keeping the length, going for some style and thinking on that bob for a few months. I had Alex take a photo of the back of my hair; clearly it needs something done with it. I'll let you know what we do. And yes yes yes, I think I've mentioned it before, but just in case---I'm fully aware that a meadow of mauve and other obnoxiously-coloured flowers puked all over my bathroom walls. We keep meaning to tear that paper down, and you'd think after three years I'd have done it already. I guess it doesn't embarrass me enough, idk.

Alex and I went to Spiderwick Chronicles today--very cute movie. However, the little boy said H$#& once and exclaimed "Oh my G" constantly. I don't believe the creativity of the movie would have been compromised one bit if they'd simply left that out. We finished hair pics and took ape pics before leaving.......I think Alex is quite good at this!

**Oh yeah, Thank you Mist for reminding me--Cody's interview went very very well. He'll get certified in a few weeks and he'll officially be a lifeguard boyyy. He's quite excited, dreaming about handing over the cash he sooo owes uswhat he'll do with his paychecks.

What's In A Picture? Well Zoom Right On In And See!

My nephew and his beautiful wife went to Panama last week to serve in the missionary field for one year....and we attended a goodbye in their honor last week. Aaron (my neph) gave the sermon at his church, and of course I'm a bit biased, but I think God's using Aaron's abilities in just the right way. He and Jessica are expecting their first child this summer, so my SIL is just gonna have to go down there to do her first-time grand mothering! This is a lucky child, and will have grandparents that will bless his/her booties right off.

Following the service, we had a nice dessert reception. I didn't take nearly as many photos as I usually do. Niki wasn't there that night and my photo-taking has been kind of down with all the stress. I know I always enjoy seeing my blogfriends' lives on their blogs. I need to do better at introducing you to my family, and with John being one of seven, I have a lot of family. I call a great deal of wonderful, unique and loving people family through John.

This is John's mother on the right, his brother Jeff's wife (Dorie) and John's brother, Jeff. We're very close to them, we have boys the same age and spent many many nights in our leaner years playing cards and drinking coffee. Mom clearly has something on her mind here, and no matter how hard I tried to convince her, she still thinks I ate all the nuts in the nut bowl. Pshhh..I didn't eat all the nuts. Dorie did it! I ate all the little mints. I'm not sure what they decided to do about the 'situation' but from the looks of it, I might sleep with one eye open next Fourth of July trip to the lake.

This is Aaron's sister and my niece, Angela (Angie). She's married now to Dustin, Derwin, Derwood, Darwood, Darwin...he answers to them all. I like to think I'm her favorite aunt, but some of my SILs read this, so I won't proclaim it. (But I am, Ange, right? Ange?) Clearly she's a beauty.

John doubted my wisdom in posting this, but I don't' think he gives his sister Jeanne, my SIL, the credit she is due. Cody took this shot of us, and I don't see a THING wrong with it:

Ohhhhhh.......wait, let me....just...zoom in here. What?!! Oh, Cody Cody Cody, tsk tsk! Why'd you have to go take this shot...didn't you notice Aunt Jeanne was still eating? Jeanne, if I didn't think you loved me dearly and that I was amongst your favorite SIL's, I would nevah nevah show this. I feel, however, because it's obviously a teaching moment--when NOT to take a photo--that it's a learning opportunity for my friends. Besides, you're adorable anyway.
Just to show Jeanne good faith (and after Angie showed us how to zoom in on the camera screen) and after the laughter had subsided long enough to breath, we took another picture. We didn't laugh too hard and we put a kabash on it after the appropriate laughing time frame had come to an end. But still, I don't know. I think she looks slightly less than excited this time around.

But being the beautiful sister she is, she recovered nicely. Here's one of my favorites--her standing with my Nephew and his wife, who are safely deposited in Panama as I post this. And who, as I post this, can look to the North skyline and be sure there is an extraordinarily large family that way who loves them, who is excited for them, who is proud of them, and who prays continually for their safe return next year. I sure hope they get an apartment with a spare room, though, I'm thinking about it.

Senators Keep Emailing Me. They Need Me!

I just got this in my email inbox this evening--it was from John Kerry. I know what you're thinking, I keep getting these emails, I must be connected through the rafters! This is just the intro:

Dear Stacey,
I support Barack Obama because he doesn't seek to perfect the politics of Swiftboating -- he seeks to end it.
This is personal for me, and for a whole lot of Americans who lived through the 2004 election.

Senator Obama, I'm so sorry. Did you know he was going to mail this out to everyone on your mailing list? I'm going to email him as soon as I post this and ask, I'll keep you updated. Senator Obama, this isn't good, and I hate to see you go. Couldn't you do something? Serve Hunts ketchup on the Obama-mobile? It's personal for John Kerry, that means he's big time ticked.

I wasn't going to vote for you or anything, but Senator Obama, it's just not fair for you. By the way, have you spoken with Dr. Dean? I mean, I'm just saying. It wouldn't hurt none to work the crowd....YEAHHHHHH!!!!!

*Senator Obama, please stop Hillary. I still won't vote for you. But the cackle. Please please please, that laugh. I don't know if I'm strong enough. I'm not. I'm not strong enough.

I'm One Snake Tong Away From Having It All

This morning I'm looking down stats, checking searches. I like to see what other see before the come over. And while sometimes I get some oddities, this one tickled me! From Pakistan--a search for snake tongs!


That the search lead to my page doesn't surprise me, remember Snake Charming at the abode? It's just...why? What's going on here? What is this snake tong he/she is searching for all the way over in Pakistan. And did the search produce a good quality pair? I only ask because I needed some not so long ago.

Less than three years into owning this house, and I've seen more live things that didn't include humans, cats or dogs than anywhere else. We've battled brown recluse spiders (I need to blog the photo of what that'll do to your child's lip when bitten), lizards, lizard tails (those tails really do fall off when caught in spider traps, so I count them separately) mice, silverfish, drain flies, teeny tiny little ants, and one giant, vicious and possibly dangerous garter snake.

As I drive out of the neighborhood, I still get excited when I see the geese crossing the street. Sitting in the street. Walking down the sidewalk. Hanging out in the yards next to the ponds (Kristy, it's a downside to having your view, but it's so entertaining for me), and even deer just out for a stroll. I love that part. I love that this neighborhood is filled with nature. And if the occasional and possibly venomous snake is part of the package, okayyyyy I'll do it. I bravely wrestled one and won and I can do it again. But I think I need some of those snake tongs. Where are the snake tongs?

Weird-O Tag Time

Part two of Shana's post today--the 7 things tag!

Shana laid out rules, and it said I have to link to her, the tagger (so now you have to link to me, the tag-ee turned tagger...you have to, it's the rule, don't make me say 'ahhhmmmmmmmm, I'm telling!'). Then I have to list seven weird things about myself. And tag seven others. She says I have to let them know they've been tagged, too. Geesh, this could be an ongoing even throughout the day for me!

Okay, the seven weird things about me--this is hard because if I thought I was doing something weird, I wouldn't do it, would I? It's kind of subjective, so let me know if it's not weird enough, I can try harder.

1. My late father's name was James. My late sister's, Jamee. It wasn't until I was out of high school that I ever realized she was named after him--it didn't click! (Personally, I think it's weird nobody mentioned it at home though, idk)


2. If I've had a particularly rough day and I'm feeling very sorry for myself, I grab Winnie The Pooh from the cabinet and sleep with him. It's a comfort from the safe childhood days. (I have a very good reason for posing with a scarf around my head holding Winnie, don't I Kelly! Right Kell? Kelly?)

3. I have ongoing lower back pain that began while sledding with my friends at night down a hill off the side of the road in our town. My boyfriend Charles and I sledded right down the hill, right THROUGH the bonfire and went airborne and landed with a thud on my tailbone.


4. I've never had my nails done, I rarely even file and paint them. Most of my friends do, I just don't know why I don't pull it together. Partly because I type too much to have long nails, partly because I'm lazy, and partly because they'll only be stuck down a toilet within the day anyway.


5. I cut my own hair, and go in about once a year for an 'adjustment'. And I have two nieces who are in the business, I just don't go. If I see an issue, I grab my handy dandy barber scissors and chop chop chop! Angie, if you're reading this, it might be time soon to take care of that mullet-looking thingy again. I'll call.


6. I heart Tab, but you already knew that. But I do! And I have ordered more and have 27 cans here at home with me.


7. If I'm cooking something that calls for Worcester sauce, I always down a tablespoon or two for myself too. Is this wrong?

I have seven people to tag and I'll go ahead and name names, but I'll have to link later on, I need to get to the classroom. I'm tagging:

Misty Dawn

Cat

Jami

Mom Lady (Wendy)

Misplaced Midwesterner (Kim)

Coming To A Nursery...(Dawn)

And Island Life (Kailani)

Make the weird things very very weird, I need to feel better about myself.

**Niki is home today. We are far from out of the woods, and I think we need your continued prayer even moreso now. Because I believe this is a defining time for the rest of her 'teenaged' years and her relationship with us. Praying for my wisdom and my patience might be good.

Back At The Trophy Case

Trinity kicked me into gear here and sent me over not one but TWO awards! And so as I post the awards here, I think it's time I get to work on my old trophy case (remember, I lost it while decorating for Christmas!).

I won't have time tonight, but before the weekend is out, there will be plenty of little blue cocktails to go around. Plenty. Maybe some of them will be full, maybe some won't, idk. It's been a rough month! So....without any further adieu:

The Spreader of Love Award. Hmmm...Trin, it was 1987. Can we just let it go?! Nawww just kidding. Thanks, my friend on the other side of the planet! And I am passing this onto:

Misty--you spread love and friendship all around and I love watching you bloom.

GiGi--just because...well, girl, you spread your love around, you do. I've heard. And I mean in a very lovable love-spreading kind of way.

And then there's the Bloggers of 07-08. Well.....I think that goes without saying--if you're reading my blog, if you blog, then you're a blogger of 07-08. Snag this uppp! And have a little blue cocktail on me!

And then this showed up:
Scared ya didn't I?! Sorry, couldn't resist. I've been thinking about my friend lately. And I don't know if she made any New Year's resolutions or not, she hasn't emailed me lately. But I've been thinking about it. I think a resolution to finding those dang missing dishwashers and bringing them back to safety is worthy! Dishwashers make the world go round.

Getting Caught In The Act--My First Tutorial

If you had your druthers, how would you tell your child 'the truth'? Is there a worst case scenario to this coming out of sorts? Yeah, what would be the worst way your child could find out? Hmmm, maybe it would be, oh, I don't know......on Christmas Eve night as you're crouched down on the floor writing out name tags to separate the boys' gifts, simultaneously inhaling eating the chocolate cookie your son left for Santa, having already downed the eggnog, thus accounting for the yellow moustache!

And when we heard the noise on the steps, we turned, froze like the proverbial deer. "You mean Santa's not real?" Said with surprise mixed with sadness. I turned to him, mind tearing out 1000 different explanations to use...and I come up with "Uh...yea-ahh he's real. Can you believe it? He forgot to put tags on, so we woke up and came out to help him out!"

I'm feeling very clever until I turn and look up at my handsome husband standing behind me, scissors dangling from clenched teeth, tape in one hand, and bag of stocking stuffers in the other. Next to me lay the unfilled stockings. Would be believe Santa didn't remember those too? That we were just gonna help him out there as well?

And if he bought all that, do I want him to?

1) Do I want my boy thinking Santa just willy nilly threw his things in the living room, not really caring who, what and where, and then didn't even bother to eat the cookie or stuff the stocking? Is THIS the impression I want to leave on Alex, my baby? Okay, yeah. It might work and it's Santa's toes on the line this way, not mine!

Okay, but...

2) Do I think maybe at 10 it's time he knew anyway? That once the legs don't dangle from the lap, the gig is up? It was rather, ahem....embarrassing when GiGi came a few weeks ago--we visited Santa. Whereupon her kids, several years younger, agreed with a 'wink' to keep the silence.

The truth needed to come out. Just not on Christmas Eve. And if on Christmas Eve, just not while we're 'in the act'! If there could be an award for most ridiculous life 'stuff', I'm gonna win that one. Or trip over presents and elbow kids outta my way trying!

*Side note, Santa brought me a leather coat. Not just any leather coat, mind you, but a big giant mondo-sized leather coat. Thanks, Santa, your image of me is touching. Wait a minute! Is this Mrs. Claus' coat? Because if it is.....

I also got six ornaments, thus the 'six' in the photo. I don't think last-minute shopping bodes well for me. Six? I love them, they are so beautiful in their own little boxes and stuff. Six boxes. To be exact. Six. How many ornaments will feed a small family in...idk..Timbukistanyadahosia? Because I can sacrifice.

Data Entry Queens Secretly Run The Sweepstakes World...Shhh!

If you haven't known me very long, you might not know I'm a homeschool mom by day and a data entry queen by night. I've blogged it somewhere...but I'm not an organized DEQ, so I'm not going to try and find it. I snapped a photo late last night whilst typing away at one of the sweepstakes I'm working on (in my starting to get giddy after midnight mode):Aww, you're going to be picked alright--you're on their mailing list now fo sho. And if you inserted email just in case that increased your odds, then you win double.

I used to think the same thing too, so I empathize. I envisioned mine being sorted through by the folks at the major retail chain that's holding the sweepstakes. Sort of like a big room with CEOs sorting through and reading it, giving me points for penmanship and my added "Thank You!" at the bottom. Six years ago, that 'thank you' counted for something!

The truth isn't so endearing. By in large, they are being entered both in- house and at the homes of the home operations keyers of the marketing firm hired to handle the volume. By the thousands. And the retailer sees it alright, in a big long computerized list. Their marketing team now has thousands and thousands of addresses, emails and sometimes phone numbers.

So to the gal who wrote "Pick Me!" I'll make some calls and see what I can do; maybe the Head Contest-Pickers at the Contest Place these end up at will listen to reason. But if I do that, what'll happen to Mrs. Williams in Louisiana? She put a smiley sticker on hers...then added Provers 12:18. I looked it up:

Reckless words pierce like a sword, but the tongue of the wise brings healing.

Have we met? I put her at the top of my to-pick list.

Then late last evening, I ran into Tammy over in Maryland (great handwriting, btw, Tammy). She took time to fill out 12 of these (we love those, we can hit Num Lock and still get paid). Then smart chi ca she is, went on to fool the system by switching up and using her first initial for the next dozen entries. Then when that won't fly much longer, this gal is smarter than the average bear. She changed up her email address for the last several.

Tammy worked very hard, idk, I think I should choose her to win the grand prize. I mean, she'll need the pick-me-up when she tries to take her name off the mailing list for the 35+ entries that now include both email and snail mail. I might pick her (or my husband, I could choose John). What do you think?

My Morning Walk Run Burn

The other day a friend told me if I really wanted to lose weight I'd need to alternate jogging with walking. It sounded about right to me...so I approached Kristy, my walking bud, with this. I worried, she's a couple of years older, she's far more girly than I and....well she's quiet. Quiet people don't run! She agreed, though, so this morning we began. Starting off with a walk, I turn to Kristy, my face exudes the compassion I have for her. Poor thing, she's not going to make it. And we were off...

We're jogging a good pace...it felt exhilarating, the wind in my face, arms (even the lame one) working it, we look good. Rounding corner one, heading for two, starting to breath harder, then really hard. Might be hurting by now, yes, the burn sets in.

I'm suffocating on my own breath. I'm NOT stopping first, I'm young and tough. Thoughts did race through my mind--is it possible to suffocate running? Can lungs spontaneously combust? If I had the energy, and if I stuck my foot in Kristy's path just enough...would she call foul? Why doesn't she stop! Are you KIDDING me? She's smiling, she's chattering away, I refuse to cry uncle, I answer her (two second intervals between words). This is ridiculous. I planned out that I would be the strong one!

We made it to the corner, I slowed my breath long enough to say, "ready to walk?" Far too much lilt in her "oh..yeah sure!". Walking on a slight incline, I worry I may die on the spot. Atop a neon orange phallic symbol on the curb, courtesy of neighborhood kids set loose with spray paint. They line the curbs and deck the community mailboxes in our neighborhood, some with happy faces, some have hats, even some phallic girls. All special and all unique. Thanks, kids, we done needed some class around here. But I don't want to die on one.

A very long 30 minutes later, a few more sprints followed by walks, and we parted ways after agreeing this was 'great', that we'll do it again in the morning. I round the corner for home (treated to a glimpse the neighbor rinsing his keg in his shorts--it's 30 degrees outside) and poured a cup coffee. And toyed with the brownie, but that's a lot of burn to get that off, I left it!

Jungle Love...By Definition

***Edit: Just in case you stuck around long enough to hear the Red Neck Days of Christmas song, sorry sorry sorry! I didn't know there were two versions..and this may or may not have had some, ehh, not so festive thoughts. How could I know? Isn't Redneck Christmas a classic? Still...sorry!!

Please ignore my mess, I'm redecorating for Christmas--and Gi, guess which way I'm going with it?!

I don't do this often--heck I'm not sure I've ever done this. My BFF GiGi has written a post over at Girl Gone Wild about monkeys and it's so dang good I had to link it up. No monkey business, just a monkey story from Gi. Of course. We all have our monkey stories, right? Puts a new light on the little widdle cuddly wuddly monkeys at the zoo that I adore!

Snake Charming School

Yesterday, Alex and I were taking a break from school; he headed downstairs to play his game. I picked up the phone to phone my friend Kristy, to take up our conversation where we left off (remember? me on my face in the road).

Just when we're getting to the good part and setting a date for a meeting with the Women's Ministry, Alex comes upstairs animated and telling me there's something in the basement! What? What did you say? Ohhhhh...."Kristy, need to run, there's a snake in the basement." Of course. They come into everyone's houses, right?

I go down, inspect, then call John, describe the snake as I try valiantly to keep Jack the cat from putting it in his little mouth. I don't have a photo of the snake itself--if I did then I wouldn't have been very afraid now, would I? I always wonder about that, folks who photograph horrible things as they happen. What's tickin there? This is a good likeness of what I found as I remember:I described it to John, okay okay, it's not a Cobra. Apparently it's a garter snake, about 6" or so long. And apparently it's harmless but do. not. care. I don't care that it's afraid. I don't care that snakes really aren't slimy, and I don't really care if they are good for the ecosystem. I dislike snakes and I like it like that!

How it got there is a mystery I may not want solved. I'm thinking toilet drain, and that ruines a lot of night dashes for me. Let's just say lights will be turned on.

It was just the two of us. I look hopefully over at Alex, he's a boy, he'll love this job! He's looking at me like I'm the smartest, bravest mommy in the world. Heck yeah I am! There's nothing left to do but send him up for the kitchen tongs. I lift the snake like I'm scooping spaghetti noodles, John on the line just in case I get bitten and the venom spreads too quickly for Alex to react. I could lose my ability to move, my breathing might shut down, and I'd likely die right there next to the sliding glass doors. I don't wanna die next to the sliding glass doors, they're not cleaned.

So eww eww eww ewww, Alex opens the door, I run onto the patio, through the yard, snake tongs well to the front of me, mindful that I've slipped and fallen face first in the not-so-distant past. Wouldn't that be the way? I get to my destination and deposit him into the leaves as far away as I could go without angering a neighbor should they be watching me. I'd rather fling it into another yard, but that's rude. Right? Running and dry-heaving I get back, hand the tongs to Alex, with instructions to throw them away! Spaghetti tongs, snake tongs. Awww now tongs and spaghetti are ruined forever!

Tonight was family bowling night. Even with a bum arm (which is better), I took it for the fam. It was one of our better family fun nights of late. I didn't do half bad. Which means half gutters, half not gutters! Pictures soon. But now, I'm worn out. Tomorrow is our family Thanksgiving and I need to drag myself outta bed before noon!

Green Week In Retrospect

My heart is gladdened to know 2008 Presidential candidates have gotten involved with the Green Week awareness project (Matt, shut offfff the bright lights, silly, the glaciers are melting. 500000 watts of Matt-lumins will do that!) I don't know where I stand on the issue to be honest, I'm the first to concede I haven't got a clear grasp on that yet. However, this week I was touched by Senator Clinton's green outreach program:

Plant a Tree

Plant a Question

Okay, But I Refuse To Count The 9 Build-A-Stacey Months!

It's official, I am 40. I wasn't feeling it yet; sure I had the birthday last month and I load on the Oil of Old Lady every night without fail. I have a counter filled with prescriptions and supplements. But me? 40? Nope, it didn't register like that for me.

Until yesterday. Alex complained his eyes hurt, so I called the optometrist we use. He had an opening in the afternoon. Great! And would I like to come in too, there was another opening? Hmm...clicking finger tips (no nails) on the counter. I didn't really want to go, in fact I'd avoided it my entire adult life. Sure I needed reading glasses from time to time, mostly for reading small print on my work and the Bible. But my vision is fine. Besides, if I were truthful, I avoided eye doctors. My sister's cancer was a rare melanoma, a tumor detected when her eye doctor dilated her eyes. I have no excuse other than extreme fear.

They needed an answer and my mind was racing while I heard someone who sounded a lot like me say "okay, sounds good to me."

Alex went through the thorough exam, checked out just fine. My turn came and I just focused on what the doctor was saying, nothing else. Soon it was done, no tumors. But the reading thing was an issue and I had an ever- so- slight correction in my right eye. I didn't NEED glasses for distance, but it would make things a bit clearer. Bifocals would be very helpful he said. Especially at church where I'm reading, looking up, reading, looking up. I must admit, I can't tell if Chuck is convicting ME in his sermons anymore (whew!) so I assume if he's making a point and looking my way, he must be talking to Cat or someone nearby. Probably Cat. Or John. Could be John.

Bifocals? Pshh! No. I don't need those, my dad wore those! I sat there waiting for him to finish writing (I think he was writing stubborn middle-aged mom, she'll be back). Ohhhhh! Alright! I'll get bifocals. It would be nice, especially at church where my eye focus is constantly changing from Bible to speaker.

Word. You can shop for new frames with your eyes dilated. But trust your salesperson. She pulls half a dozen frames, all built to help minimize the extreme basketball shape of my face, and I commence trying them on. She'd say ewww. Or burst into laughter as I stand there squinting in desperation--I can only make out the outline; I think she's pointing and laughing, but I'm not sure. Finally she puts a pair on and says "Oh, Stacey, these are great! The green looks so great with your complexion and dark eyes". Green? "Really?" I ask, gazing into the mirror..wait, that's the salespersons face not mine....okay found it! "Really." she affirmed. "But they're GREEN! I can't show up at church with green glasses; no more than I could wear a pair of pink glasses." With that, she slowly puts a pair down and slides it away.

I tell her if she thinks the style on my face now is good, then find it in another color. Find brown. She finds something similar in 'tortoise', brown. Lined in what I thought could be green, but she called it honey. Translated to mean they could be yellow, can't tell. Then the guy salesman bounces over "Oh Stacey (they know me because I'm there often with Niki) those look goo-ood. And look at these!" He produces a pair of designer sunglasses. While it's blurry, he is so excited about them I know they MUST be tres chic. I'm debating. I want 'em. Oh my gosh could you just SEE me?! No $12 on sale at Kohl's sunglasses for me anymore. Wait wait wait...."you're good guys! Very good. But I don't need a pair of sunglasses for READING!". They giggle at the ridiculousness of it too, then still in sales mode, tell me I could see the speedometer better. I didn't even know I HAD a speedometer, just ring up the one pair please.

$300 + later Alex and I are feeling our way out of Target Optical. He is wearing the standard disposable issue sunglasses for his dilated eyes. I had my own. We get outside and Alex, knowing he is struggling to see so I must be too, says "Mom, I'd rather walk home." I don't tell him I've already considered it, we don't live too far. "Nonsense, I can see; didn't you hear the doctor tell me it was safe for me to drive?" Where in the HECK is my car? Arm in arm we navigate the parking lot. I put the keys in the CD player ignition......Hayyy I DO have a speedometer.

So just like that, I own 40. Next week, I will have bifocals. And I have no idea what they look like. Tortoise and honey. Sounds like a storybook tale for children to me.