Life.....Expect the Unexpected

In life the unexpected is delivered every day like a morning newspaper.

When I came to post this morning, I noticed the post below this and I thought how ironic.

Like nearly every other morning of the week, Dave left for work yesterday at 6:00 a.m. Dave arrived at work and set the meeting rooms scheduled for the day. Dave was then called into Human Resources. Due to the economic times meetings and events are down in the hotel and they have eliminated the Audio/Visual Department of the hotel. Please get your personal belongings. You are free to leave.

Just like that.

Just like that we became another statistic in the growing number of individuals and families that are faced with the loss of their job and uncertain futures. Yesterday morning at 10:05 a.m. the statistic for unemployed individuals in the United States was 11.6 million. Yesterday morning at 10:06 a.m. the statistic was 11.6 million and one.

I do believe that God does not close a door without opening a window. I believe everything happens for a reason and He has a bigger plan for Dave and for us.

The unknown is scary. Leaving a comfort zone and security is scary. I trust in His plan and that He will guide us to that window and beyond it will be something very exciting and fulfilling for Dave and our family.

I am thankful that I have a very full calendar of brides, grooms and weddings. I know times are difficult and I appreciate and feel very blessed with any and all business that I get. I have certainly seen changes in my business and the wedding and event business as a whole, but I remain to have business and am very thankful.

Uncertain times are stretched before our family right now, just as they are for millions of others. Please keep us, and the other families that are facing the same circumstances as us, in your prayers. Please pray for an optimistic attitude, endurance with difficult times, clarity in decisions of which avenues and opportunities to pursue and peace and love within the family.

Expect the unexpected is one thing. Accepting the unexpected can be another thing entirely.

Acceptance is the first step in any unexpected circumstance; Accepting whatever has happened. Accepting that it is fact. Accepting that you were meant to move on. Accepting that you were meant to rise higher as a direct result. Accepting that you don't have all the answers . . . don't understand all the meanings . . but that you will make it. From acceptance, you will find surrender. From surrender, grace. And from grace, a new life and a sacred triumph.

Surrounded by Brilliance

****This is an update to this post.

It is now 3:27 in the afternoon and Greg was about 8 hours too early......but you should see it now!

I went into Walmart. Calm and nice outside. I came out. HORRIBLE BLIZZARD!

I could hardly see past the front of my hood on the way home. It is awful outside.

I laughed all the way home. You'll understand after you read the post.

I'm sure school will be canceled tomorrow if this keeps up.

I sure hope Greg calls me tomorrow morning and tells me it is 78 degrees and sunny and to send Gregory to school in shorts. I will be looking forward to the afternoon :)!

This is what it is doing outside right now. All the snow is from within the last hour.



***************************************

This is some of the sheer brilliance I have encountered within the last 12 hours:

Last night Gregory and I had date night and went to a movie together. I will post more about that later.

We got home from the movie and decided we would have a bite to eat. I guess the tub of popcorn, hot dog, sour worms and large drinks were not enough.

I had made a scrumptious roast the night before (the recipe will be posted on the new blog when we move). We decided to warm up a couple pieces of the roast.

Gregory likes to have everything on his own plate.

I put my piece on my plate and his piece on his.

I warmed up my plate in the microwave.

Gregory always likes to warm up his own plate as well.

First Gregory tried his piece. Says it's cold. (yeah, it just came out of the fridge). He went and put it in the microwave.

G: how long
M: about 45 seconds

4 seconds into it

G: why is it on fire
M: what?!
G: why is it on fire. There is fire. The roast is on fire.
M: WHAT?!

Meanwhile he is opening the microwave door.

G: maybe it is the fork and knife
M: what fork and knife?!?

G: the one's I left on the plate


This morning Greg (Gregory's dad) calls from Florida, where he has been for a week and will be for another week.

G: You had better call Gregory's school and make sure he has it.
M: what?
G: You had better call Gregory's school and see if it has been canceled before he goes out and waits for the bus.
M: what are you talking about?
G: You have 10 inches of snow. They probably don't have school.

Me, looking out the window at a beautiful sunny day, and it is 38 degrees outside. We haven't had snow for a week.

M: we have 10 inches of snow?
G: Yes, you are in the middle of a blizzard. You need to call the school. The roads are covered in snow and ice and they probably don't have school.

I tell Gregory. We both laugh. He opens the front door and yells at the people passing by (on dry pavement). Children playing while waiting for the bus. "People, don't you know we are in the middle of a blizzard?! You should be shoveling. Be careful on those icy roads!"

He calls me up in Wisconsin from Florida and tells me what I am experiencing for weather and how to best handle it.


Sheer brilliance. I'm surrounded by it.

Quest for Independence

Independence: the quality or state of being independent: FREEDOM: DRIVER'S LICENSE!


I know I do not stand alone among parents of future, present or past teenagers.

As a parent, as your teenager begins taking the steps towards getting a driver's license, you experience intermittent waves of anxiety and excitement. Anxiety over the prospect of your child driving a car; after all, driving accidents are the leading cause of death among American youth. Excitement over your new-found freedom from having to play chauffeur on twenty-four-hour call.

Just below the surface of these two dominant emotions, I am also experiencing a small current of grief. And this grief is twofold.

There is no greater signifier of your teenager's independence than the driver's license. Once obtained, you are no longer needed as much as you used to be. Furthermore, you have less control than ever over where they are going and with whom.

It's scary.

Something I am experiencing is the realization that obtaining the driver's license means less time spent with me, less opportunity each week to connect. I spend a great deal of time in the car with my children and some of our best conversations happen in the car.

At home, we are too busy with daily living, but in the car, that is where we talk. The intensity of face-to-face contact is diminished, which allows for more flow in conversation. I am never surprised by what is said in the car, whether it is short trip to town, a medium trip to Fridley or a long journey out of state.

Big moments happen during transitions, which means rides in the car—by definition always a transition—and we have had our best conversations and problem solving sessions while in the car.

I know that will change. I know once the license is obtained I will know less and less about what they are up to than ever before, and not because of any conscious choice on either of our parts. I know I will miss them--just hanging out and especially laughing together on some of those rides.

We have a joke at our house. Whenever I do or say something that some (most, if not all) would deem completely inappropriate to say, do, or encourage of their child, we will laugh and say "that is an example of BAD parenting!")

I could REFUSE to let any of them get their driver's license, or even go to college, or move out, or say perhaps......have a life! (I think all of those above would be considered BAD parenting; I will check my Good Parenting Instruction Manual and get back to you).

Well, I guess I will let them get their driver's license. The Good Parenting Instruction Manual seems to think it is a good idea, something about self-sufficient, independent, blah...blah...blah.........

............................................................

I have been lucky with Kyle not being extremely eager to get his license. I know I won't be with Justin, he will be standing in line at the testing office at 12:01 a.m. on his 16th birthday. So I did take it all in and enjoy it.

Kyle turned 16 last May. In Minnesota you can take your test for your driver's license when you are 16.

Kyle really had no desire.

Kyle received a new truck for his 16th birthday.


He still had no desire.

His philosophy; why worry about it when you have friends that drive, I can get everywhere I need to get with them.

I was soooo hoping this would last.

It didn't.

Last summer he decided to take the written test and the driving classes. He did great on the written test. The driving classes left much to be desired.

I practiced with Kyle. He was shaky in some areas, but nothing I didn't think the driving classes wouldn't take care of.

Jay brought Kyle to take his driver's test. He didn't pass. Then I drove with him. I knew why.

I started practicing with him. In the small towns, on the freeway, in parking lots. His improvement was great and I thought he was ready.

Where we took him to take the driving test it is on a driving course. Not on real streets. It can get very confusing in there. Lots of signs, lanes, streets, lots of different things packed into a very small area.

This time Kyle was ready.

Dave and I took him. We were both so nervous for Kyle. We left him in his lane and went inside to wait. You'd think we were waiting for a baby to be born. Checking out the window.....he's still in there by himself.....oh, here she comes....she's getting in......there he goes!

Test underway.

They return. Kyle is a nervous mess. He gets out of the van and comes over to us (during this time he dropped his permit in the snow, which we didn't realize until later in the day and had to come back and look for it....we found it!)

Well.................

How did you do?!

I didn't pass. I went the wrong way down a one way street. THE EXACT SAME MISTAKE HE HAD MADE WHEN JAY HAD BROUGHT HIM!!!!

We had been wrong. Kyle wasn't ready.

He was disappointed, but not overly so. Kyle is real good about shrugging it off.

He had to wait a few weeks before he could take his test again.

I made the decision......after I had worked out my own personal issues with it and came to the fact I needed to let go and even consulted The Good Parenting Instruction Manual (you should all get a copy.....it has absolutely everything in it you ever needed to know about raising your children (please don't email me on where to get it......in case your parent's never told you.....it really does not exist....and I have asked quite a few different sources) ) that if we were doing this driver's license thing......we were going to do it!

I brought Kyle downtown St. Paul, during Winter Carnival. Difficult city to drive in, lots of people to watch out for.....and many, many, one way streets. We went down and around up and around. Turn here, turn there, go straight here.

He did great.

Other days we spent time going to Uptown, Dinkytown, Lowertown, downtown Minneapolis, highways, freeways, merging, turning, rush hours, bus lanes.

We did everything I could think of that would give him the experience and confidence he would need to make it through that course and to really be a pretty good driver.

The day came. It was time to take the test again.

When Kyle takes the test, he has to leave school early because the testing office closes by 4:00 and there isn't enough time after he gets out on a full day.

The day that worked with Kyle's schedule my work schedule was very hectic. Dave was getting off of work early and he made arrangements to pick Kyle up at school and take him to take his test.

Kyle and I had worked so hard together, I didn't want to miss it. I thought I should be there.

I hurried with what I had to do and drove the one hour one way trip from where I was to get to see Kyle take his test.

Due to traffic, when I got there, Dave and Kyle were also just arriving. Kyle was feeling a bit nervous. He wanted to go practice some parallel parking and drive around just a bit in Dave's van.

We drove around the neighborhood of the testing facility and then we ended up on some wrong roads, and finally on our way back to the testing facility. Kyle was ready. This is it.

We were within 1/4 mile of the testing facility. All of a sudden.......we hear......blump, berlump, blump.

We had a flat tire.

The front left tire was done.

Thank goodness I had come over. My van was in the parking lot of the testing facility about 1/4 mile away.

Kyle and I started walking. Someone was nice enough to stop for us. A very nice woman. She asked us if we needed a ride, which we did, and she brought us to my van.

We then had to go get the tire off of Dave's van, drive to a tire shop (about 45 minutes away), get a new tire and get back and get it on.

There would be no testing today.

It really is the worse when you are all ready to do something and then your bubble is popped (or tire in this case :) ).

I told Kyle he could miss school in the morning and we would try this again tomorrow.

Tomorrow came and so did another attempt at the driver's license.

This time it was just the two of us.

I really wasn't nervous this time. Kyle wasn't either.

We sat in the our lane, waiting for the woman to do the test, we visited and laughed about all the events that had taken us to this point. Here she came. I got out and went inside and waited.

They came back awhile later.

Well.............

How did you do!?

He pulled out his piece of paper.

He PASSED!!!

We went inside, filled out the remainder of the paperwork and they took his picture. (I was taking pictures this whole time.......most teenagers would be totally embarrased. Kyle has lived with this a long time. He is used to it.)

It just so happened the lady that completed his paperwork and took his photo was the same woman who had given us a ride the day earlier when Dave's van had a flat tire. She remembered us and was very glad to be sharing this experience with us.

It was official. He was now a licensed driver.

I have a philosphy......everything happens for a reason.

It was meant to be that Kyle and I were to spend the time together practicing and having that experience. It was meant to be that Kyle and I were to experience him passing....just the two of us......on that particular day. That day as we were together, Grandma Teddy passed away.....we found out together. We both knew she was smiling and laughing that Kyle had just become a licensed driver. Because of how everything fell together we had been releasing balloons together as she had passed away. Kyle will always think of that experience and his Great Grandma Teddy and the time spent with me when he thinks about the day he got his driver's license.

As our children grow, it is difficult to let go. To have the changes of their quest for independence forced upon us. We have to step out of our comfort zone and grow with them. Develop new ways to share in their life.

I may not be ready for all the changes, but they are coming. I can either go along for the ride and enjoy it..................or get run over by the car!

Chocolate Intoxication

I had a meeting on Friday with a bride to go over the decor of her wedding reception.

Linens, draping, chair covers, chandeliers, audio visual, gobos, uplights, pin spots....you name it, we went over it.

It took me several weeks to get ready for this meeting. First, I had to put my design thinking cap on and come up with different looks, styles, textures and colors. Then I had to work on turning my dreams into reality.

That is always the most difficult part.

It is easy to come up amazing designs, but how to make them come to life is another story. I had to compile different linen samples and swatches, color samples, chair covers in different fabrics, colors, styles, get everything measured and make certain everything would fit properly. Then, the worse, I had to sit down with the audio visual manager (Dave :) ) and tell him my lighting and "high tech" needs and see if he could make any of it work. In this case, all of it is doable!

Anyway, all of this is a lot of work. By the time I got finished with my 3 hour meeting with my client and evaluating and processing bags of linens and piles of swatches I so needed a fix. A chocolate fix. My reward.

I love meeting with this client. The wedding is in Menomonie, Wisconsin. Home of Legacy Chocolates. I think the BEST chocolate I have ever had (and I have tasted some pretty good chocolate!)

I didn't even know Legacy Chocolate until my associate coordinator Stephanie introduced us. Now we are best of friends. My trips to Menomonie would not be the same without visiting my good friend and I make certain I do every time I go to town.

Their motto: Peace, Love and Happiness....one truffle at a time.

Makes your heart go pitter patter doesn't it?

You do know that real chocolate is the new health food these days. Legacy's potent little pretties, with up to 85 percent cacao solids, boast some of the greatest concentrations of healthy flavanols—a trendy antioxidant. You order their truffles by cacao percent. I like the 85 and I get Dave and the boys 41. Their truffles are dense but creamy and coated with silky chocolate. The flavors, which often change, include champagne, orangecello, almond, caramel pecan, mint, espresso, pistachio, and Cointreau, never overpower the chocolate, making a transcendent complement instead.

I don't just stick with the truffles. In season, which is not now, I have their Chocolate Zucchini Cake with Chocolate Cream Cheese Frosting for all of its healthy goodness :). This trip, because I was feeling so overworked from all the preparation and presentation of the decor items not only did I get truffles I also got 4 (yes 4) slices of cake. 2 Chocolate Cake with Chocolate Cream Cheese Frosting and 2 Chocolate Cake with White Chocolate Chocolate Frosting. I also tried something new; their hot chocolate, and I must say, it is honestly the best hot chocolate I have EVER had. I have had a few cups of hot chocolate in my time as well. Theirs is a rich drink of the Gods covered in whipped cream adorned with chocolate chunks and white chocolate shavings.

I have also had their sipping chocolate, which, if you have never had sipping chocolate, you have yet to experience life at its fullest. I reckon that upon entering the gates of heaven you are presented a warmed, nearly hot, liqueur glass filled with the dark, smooth, intense, touched with cinnamon, chocolate blessing to sip on as you peruse the grounds and acquaint yourself. At least that is what I am expecting upon my grand entrance.

I had one of the truffles on Friday and then I had to hide everything from Justin for the weekend :) Today, I have been nibbling away, and away, and away. I am feeling a bit light headed and quite giddy.

I am guessing this is chocolate intoxication..............and I like it.

What happened to that 4th piece? :)

I came across a blog, Screaming for Chocolate. I love her motto:

"inside there is a skinny woman screaming to get out, but I can usually shut the bitch up with chocolate."

Some other great chocolate quotes and jokes:

1. After a bar of chocolate one can forgive anybody, even one's relatives.
2. Dip it in chocolate; it'll be fine.
3. I'm not overweight, just chocolate enriched.
4. The problem: How to get 2 pounds of chocolate home from the store in a hot car. The solution: Eat it in the parking lot.
5. Don't wreck a sublime chocolate experience by feeling guilty. Chocolate isn't like premarital sex. It will not make you pregnant. And it always feels good.
6. Coffee, chocolate, men... some things are just better rich.
7. After about 20 years of marriage, I'm finally starting to scratch the surface of what women want. I think the answer lies somewhere between conversation and chocolate. - Mel Gibson
8. A man found a bottle on the beach. He opened it and out popped a genie, who gave the man three wishes. The man wished for a million dollars, and poof! There was a million dollars. Then he wished for a convertible, and poof! There was a convertible. And then, he wished he could be irresistible to all women... Poof! He turned into a box of chocolates.
9. An old man and a young man worked in office next to each other. The young man noticed that the older man always had a jar of peanuts on his desk. The young man loved peanuts.
   One day while the older man was away from his desk, the young man couldn't resist and went to the old man's jar and ate over half the peanuts. When the old man returned, the young man felt guilty and confessed to taking the peanuts.
   The old man responded, "That's ok. Since I lost my teeth all I can do is lick the chocolate off the M&Ms."
10. An elderly man lay dying in his bed.
    In death's agony, he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favorite chocolate chip cookies wafting up the stairs.
    Gathering his remaining strength, he lifted himself from the bed. He slowly made his way out of the bedroom, and, with even greater effort, forced himself down the stairs, gripping the railing with both hands. With labored breath, he leaned against the door, gazing into the kitchen.
    Were it not for death's agony, he would have thought himself already in heaven: there, spread out on the kitchen table, were hundreds of his favorite chocolate chip cookies.
    Mustering one final effort, he threw himself toward the table. His aged and withered hand painstakingly made its way toward a cookie when it was suddenly smacked by a spatula.
    "Stay out of those," said his wife, "they're for the funeral."

and the last, which I couldn't resist. Kyle will love it:

Q: Why don't they make white M&M's?
A: Because they'd enslave the black M&M's, steal all the red M&Ms' land, hunt the blue M&M's to extinction, accuse the yellow M&M's of obstructing trade, start a panic that the little green M&M's were invading the Earth, and complain that the brown M&M's were taking all their jobs.


Here's permission to indulge. Here's to chocolate intoxication!

Unfortunately.................

I found this game online and tried it.

It was actually pretty funny. We put Kyle, Gregory, Justin and Dave's in and actually, some were pretty close to what they really have going on! Thought you might be interested. You may be surprised at the random things you find.......or even find some that fit you or your current situation pretty well!

Here's how the game goes: do a Google search for the phrase "unfortunately __________" (insert your first name).

Here are some from my search: (12 things you didn't know about me :)...or perhaps did and were too kind to say anything (#8) !

1. Unfortunately, Marnie missed out on osteopathy as well, but did receive an offer to study human biology at RMIT.
2. Unfortunately, Marnie has no insurance to cover her medical expense.
3. Unfortunately Marnie was climbing up one and raised her head and knock her head pretty good. Even started bleeding. But she is okay.
4. Unfortunately Marnie was feeling pretty poorly, so Carrie and I just went together.
5. Unfortunately, Marnie passed away in August 2002 when she was still only in her twenties.
6. Unfortunately Marnie and I had over spent our money and didn't have enough to get in.
7. Unfortunately, Marnie is correct about the lawyers.
8. Unfortunately Marnie is quite mentally disturbed.
9. unfortunately Marnie is very busy.
10. Unfortunately Marnie isn't on the air any time soon.

And the two best:

1. Unfortunately, Marnie is left to fend off the advances of geekish office temp Mitchell.
2. Unfortunately, Marnie didn’t have a kissing booth. And yes, she was amazing. AMAZING!!

If you check this out, let me know some things I didn't know about you (or were perhaps too kind to say anything about :) )

Typing Test

I remember how nervous I used to get when I would have to take a typing test in school or during a job interview.

That was back in the days of typewriters and when you had to use liquid "White Out" for typing errors.

White Out was not my friend. I would end up with it on my clothes, in my hair, all over the typewriter.....and you could still see my error. I remember once my typing teacher in 9th grade, Mr. Ploof, came in the room and was laughing at me. He told me I looked like I got in a fight with a White Out bottle............and the White Out bottle won!

Because White Out was so not my thing, and the later invention of correction tape was even sooo much worse, I learned to NOT make typing mistakes. If I could get it right the first time it saved me so much time, trouble, stained clothes, messed up hair (I have even had White Out in my eyelashes) in the end it was my obsession and typing errors were my ultimate fear.

I was the carriage return queen. My little bell would be tinging away. Oh how I loved the typewriter and carriage return!

When I was in high school I could type 86 words per minute. After I graduated and went to school for stenography my typing skills were pretty good.......125 per minute. This was all with NO mistakes.

I remember going into job interviews. It was always the same......

"Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their country"

I still think I could type that at 200 words per minute......or possibly more.

My hands would be shaking. The person interviewing me would be standing over my shoulder (which I cannot stand to this day. If I am on the computer, writing or typing.....DO NOT stand over my shoulder!!! Bad things will happen to you!!!)

I would finish the typing test.......with no mistakes......(heaven forbid they would get out the RED pen and start circling........that was even scarier than the White Out). Then I would be told I could type. I already knew that and had told them that, but now that they had seen it for themselves, it made it so.

I was always a nervous wreck. I never enjoyed it, and the thoughts of it bring back butterflies in my stomach and the thoughts of blue eye shadow, the smell of Aquanet mixed with "Gee Your Hair Smells Terrific" and dark "nude" nylons.

I miss the days of the typewriter. I have never and will never type as good on a computer keyboard. It doesn't have the same charm and charisma, and I can't hear the "ding' to monitor my progress.

I found a "Typing Test" online that I took.

Everything changes with time. Even typing tests. It is random words now....no longer:

"Now is the the time for all good men to come to the aid of their country".

(They have done scientific studies....blah...blah....blah (I guess in the 1980's they didn't have scientific studies) ).

Since we have talked about that sentence extensively I feel compelled to let you know its history.

It was originally:

"Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of the party".

The sentence was devised to test the speed of the first typewriter in the fall of 1867, in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, during an "exciting political campaign" by Charles E. Weller. "The" was later changed to "their" and "party" to "country" in typing textbooks.

I haven't taken a typing test for so many years, and I have never taken one on a computer keyboard. Here are my results (with no mistakes :) ) but much slower without my "ding".

See how you do!


84 words

Typing Test

Reality

One thing about kids. They always force us to look deeper into ourselves.

Gregory had an away tournament near Turtle Lake. It was a real learning experience for him. This was a tournament based solely on weight, not experience or grade level. The kids he wrestled were real good. They had all been wrestling for at least 4 years; one of them 10 years and had been to State.

Gregory took 3rd in the tournament and we are very proud of him. He was disappointed. He took 2nd in his first tournament and expected to either do that or better here. He received his 3rd place medal.

A short while after receiving his medal I looked at him and noticed something different. The colors on the ribbon of the medal that he was wearing around his neck were a different color than they had been half an hour earlier. They were now red and black (Stillwater colors).

I asked him what was going on with his medal.

G: I'm wearing my 2nd place medal from the Stillwater tournament.

M: Why

G: It is 2nd place. It is better.

M: Gregory, you are at this tournament, you should wear the medal you earned here. Not one you earned from another tournament.

G: It is better. I don't want to be 3rd place. I'm going to wear 2nd place. Now I am 2nd place.

So is that how it works? No matter what place he gets, he can keep that 2nd place medal in his bag and whenever he gets anything less than 2nd place he can pull it out, put the other one away, wear 2nd place and now he's in 2nd place? He never has to face reality?

Don't wear reality. Don't face reality.

A 10 year old at a wrestling tournament is not alone. I know I have seen this, and personally experience it, in many things worn other than a medal at a wrestling tournament. Lack of reality and living in yesteryear is often witnessed in shoe stores, clothing stores, and my own closet.

I don't know how many times I have been in the shoe department and watched as the attendant measures someone's feet...........you will need a size 8. No, I am a size 7. I have never been a size 8. It says size 8. Please get me a size 7, I am a size 7. Size 7 doesn't fit, she squeezes and molds, walks around with a limp. Something is wrong with this shoe. I am a size 7 and it doesn't fit right.

How many of us try to fit into a size small shirt when we really wear a medium. How many of us try on or wear a pair of pants or a dress that is a size or so too small. If that is the size we can get on.......have on.......that is the size we are. Regardless of how we look or feel. We were that size once, and because we have squeezed and stuffed ourselves in it again, we are that size today too! We don't want to be 3rd place........we want to be 2nd place..... and there we stand looking like idiots.........but we have on our 2nd place medal...........so that's what we are!

If only we could accept that it is o.k. to be 3rd place. We need to either be happy with 3rd place and enjoy it or if we really want to be 2nd place we need to do something different to make it happen. Work harder, make changes. Pretending we are in 2nd place, when we are in 3rd, doesn't make it a reality.

We all look like idiots when we try to be something we are not.

The real first place winner..............The one wearing the 50th place medal, but wearing it proudly and well!

"Super" Sunday

Wasn't the game today great?

Neither one of the teams are "my" team, but since my team didn't seem to be on the field I was rooting for Arizona.

What an exciting game from start to finish. Congratulations Pittsburgh!

Not only was there excitement on the field, there was also quite a bit of excitement in my kitchen.

Guess who got to come out today?

I knew you would guess..............


Yes, it is one of the few days of the year he gets to come out........the football Crock-Pot.

He was filled with all kinds of delicious for his big day.

Tavern with Cheesy Potatoes

Delicious from my Crock-Pot roots. LeMars, Iowa!

The 1924 original tavern from Bob's Drive Inn on Hwy 75, LeMars.

Gary, Nancy, Jay and I (and Great Grandma Teddy if she was in town) would pile in the station wagon and head over to Bobs. I always liked my tavern with the hot dog. The first time I ate a tavern I didn't realize along with my tavern I was also eating the thin white sheet of paper that came with it.

We would always get extra taverns. One to eat there in the station wagon in the parking lot and another to eat when we got to the house. There we would be all crammed in the station wagon in the dusty gravel parking lot devouring our taverns.......laughing. Gary would always look around with a smile on his face, laugh and say "Doesn't get any better than this".

As our taverns were getting dressed on steamed buns with mustard and pickles yesterday Kyle and I could almost hear Grandpa Gary laughing. When Kyle took his first bite and said "Doesn't get any better than this", I looked around at the kids and all of us having fun together and knew exactly what Gary had meant. I think I even said in a whisper out loud, "You're right Gary, it doesn't get any better than this".

Cleaning Today!

I figure it's about time to get the remainder of the Christmas decorations put away.

See you tomorrow!

They Do

This year has been a year full of changes for Gregory.

Among other things, it is the first year that I have not either walked him to school or driven him to and from school. He has never taken the bus.

Until this year.

He gets on the bus less than 1/2 a block from our front door. When school first started, suffering from separation anxiety (me, not him), I would walk him down the 1/2 block to where he stands for the bus. "Mom, you don't have to walk down with me. You can save your energy and wait on the porch. I'm o.k.", (his nice way of telling me the other 3 friends that wait with him didn't have their parents standing there and he didn't want his either!)

I waited on the porch. I sat in the red rocking chair or swung gently on the white porch swing. Talking to him (1/2 block away) so he wouldn't feel alone. "Mom, you don't have to talk to me from the porch. I know you are there without hearing you, I'm o.k.".

The weather turned cold. I would bundle up in my coat, boots, hat and gloves and stand on the porch. Waiting for the bus to come around the corner and him to get on. "Mom, you don't have to stand outside. It's too cold. The bus comes right after I leave the house, I'm o.k.".

I have been sitting on the second step on the stair landing. Watching out the second story window.

I can see him leave the house, walk down the path, and wait for the bus right by the pole. I can see the bus come down the side street, turn, stop and pick him and the other 3 little kids up. I have been here every morning since the weather turned cold and I was told I didn't need to be outside and he was o.k. He doesn't even know about this secret place.

Or so I thought.

This morning I hugged and kissed him at the door and off he shuttled down the steps. I closed the door behind him and crept up to my secret place. There I sat in the still of the dark, quiet house. I could see him. Kicking up the snow around him. Adjusting his backpack. Then he turned. My direction. Picked up his little arm and waved. A smile across his little face. He knew I was there. He has known I was there all this time. He had known, and yet not acknowledged my presence until today.

We may think our children are not paying attention. We may think they do not not know we are there.

They do.

They feel it. They know it. They find comfort in it. Even if they do not acknowledge it. Even if you feel like they don't notice. Even if you feel like they don't care.

They do.

I will be back on my step tomorrow morning, and anywhere else I need to be for the rest of my life......watching, loving, protecting, and just being there.

The Meaning of S.H.I.T.

According to Kyle:

Kyle is always full of facts, figures and information.

Yesterday, he told me about S.H.I.T.

In the 16th and 17th centuries, before the invention of commercial fertilizer, everything had to be transported by ship. Therefore, large shipments of manure were common. It was shipped dry, because in dry form it weighed a lot less than when wet, but once water (at sea) hit it, it not only became heavier, but the process of fermentation began again, of which a by-product is methane gas.

As the stuff was stored below decks in bundles you can see what could (and did) happen. Methane began to build up below decks and the first time someone came below at night with a lantern, BOOOOM!

Several ships were destroyed in this manner before it was determined just what was happening. After that, the bundles of manure were always stamped with the term "Ship High In Transit" on them, which meant for the sailors to stow it high enough off the lower decks so that any water that came into the hold would not touch this volatile cargo and start the production of methane.

Thus evolved the term "S.H.I.T," which has come down through the centuries and is in use to this very day.

You probably did not know the true history of this word.

Neither did I. I always thought it was a golf term.

Warm, Cozy and "Happening"

I am pleased to report it is 19 degrees (above zero!!) outside and 68 degrees (above zero!!) in my house!!

Doing the happy dance...........because my feet are no longer frozen and I can!

Much work has been done on the boiler. There is more that needs to be done but it is workable and even more importantly, safely workable.

We are waiting for additional parts to come in and more "expert" advice as to how to take some pressure off of some of the parts so it won't happen again in the future. This will all be done next week.

It was sure a good thing I got my sense of care back when I did. I had an appointment with a new bride and groom this morning. (Cutest darn couple. They are "thinking" about our different packages and having parents look everything over. I really don't know if our services will fit in their budget, I hope so, they would be great to work with.) I actually had to get "dressed" up and it was so fun!! No polka dot long underwear with a pink bow accessorized by a zebra print sweater for me today. No siree. I was in colors that matched, fabrics that complimented, and footwear that looked the same on each foot. I was happening!

(The last time I thought I was "happening"...........I was looking so darn cute. Everyone I met was smiling...........almost even chuckling.........at how darn cute I was looking. My new snazy outfit, new shoes and to die for little purse. I even had on the perfect shade of lip gloss. As I looked in the mirror to "touch up" my perfect shade of lip gloss I noticed the granola bar I'd had at the beginning of my "happening" day, stuck to the side of my face and in my teeth.)

Don't ever get too "happening". Humility will come and smack you right up along side the head!

Sense of Care

Obviously, the first sense of mine to go with being cold is the Sense of Care.

Yesterday, as I was shivering my way thru the day I found my "Cuddle Duds". Those of you that know them, I'm certain love them as much as I do. I had a brand new pair, still in the box. They are a fun polka-dot.

For those of you that don't know, Cuddle Duds are long underwear. Typically, long underwear goes underneath your clothes, they are not seen.

Well, this is part of my cold factor and loss of my sense of care. My Cuddle Dud pants were under my pants, but my Cuddle Dud shirt was my shirt, and not only that, I accessorized with a zebra print sweater.

With my mind frozen, this is what I wore to Kyle's wrestling match last night.........which also happened to be Parents Night. We had to go down and be introduced and get our flower in front of a gym full of people. This was my attire:

I took a close-up of the fabrics and textures so you could see how beautifully they went together. I also wanted to make sure and capture the hot pink bow. That really sets this outfit apart from anything else I would usually never be caught dead in!

Yesterday, while at home, I was also running around in my slippers all day. Assisting the boiler man, chatting with the mailman. Today I was running around in the same slippers and looked down at my feet.


Are you getting a good visual here? Imagine the beautiful attire from above mixed with the ever so chic unmatching slippers. I can only imagine what that boiler man thinks. But since my sense of care is frozen. I don't care!

Remember the flower I told you about that I received at Parent's Night last night at Kyle's wrestling meet?

Well, despite being a florist and wedding coordinator who has literally hundreds of beautiful containers and vases at my fingertips, the lack of the sense of care shows again:

Check out my centerpiece!

This seems to be really working for me :) !!

Crock-Pot-Club

I have become somewhat of a Crock-Pot connoisseur (a person of informed and discriminating taste). Some are connoisseurs of wine............me of Crock-Pots.

I own 7 Crock-Pots. Let me explain. This has happened by accident.

When I got married to Jay........we had 4 showers. One was even a kitchen shower. I received what seemed like "everything". What is one thing I didn't receive. You guessed it, a Crock-Pot. For several Christmases one thing I asked for and did not receive.........a Crock-Pot. I felt like I was destined to be without one forever.

I heard all these wonderful stories about Crock-Pots. How people could get up before work, put everything in and like magic...........when they arrived home from work that evening dinner had prepared itself in the Crock-Pot! I had dreams of coming home to roasts, ribs, soups, chili,.....I heard you could even make brownies in one! Oh how I wanted to be part of the Crock-Pot Club.

Finally, after about my 4th year of having it on my "Christmas Wish List" upon opening my gifts I knew this was it. This was the year. I opened what looked like a book from a friend of the family, dear, dear Sally. She was Grandma Teddy's friend. She always got us "a little something" for Christmas. Never big and dramatic, but always something small and from the heart. Upon opening her gift I knew it was a book. As I tore away the wrapping paper I could see the cover. In big GIGANTIC letters on the cover "The Crock-Pot Cookbook".

YEAH, YIPPEE!!!! I have never been so excited. Sally was beside herself. She had really scored that year. She could tell how much I absolutely loved her gift. I danced around holding my book, smiling from ear to ear. Little did she know, not only did I love her book, I loved the Crock-Pot I knew MUST be in one of the other wrapped packages. Why would I get a Crock-Pot cookbook if someone didn't get me a Crock-Pot? I set off anxiously gathering my other wrapped packages. Sizing them all up. Which one could it be? Well, they must have wrapped it in another box because all of these were not the size of a Crock-Pot. Perhaps they have it hidden in the back room. They are going to bring it out as the last gift to really "surprise" me. I opened all my gifts. None were a Crock-Pot. I was not deflated. I knew how people liked to pull pranks on me and my Christmas gifts. I knew they were being sneaky. I sat there holding my book.....waiting......Nancy got up to go to the kitchen to get everyone some snacks. Snacks, right, I know what she is up to. She is going to make a grand entrance with my Crock-Pot. I will play along. "Nancy, do you need any help? Would you like me to help you get those "snacks"? (he-he). "No thank you". O.K., I'll just sit right here then. Right here on the couch waiting for the "snacks".

Out came the snacks.

Hours went by and they didn't make the grand entrance with my Crock-Pot. How could this be? Where was it??

As Sally was getting ready to leave to go home she came up to me to give me my goodbye hug and kiss and said warmly "I hope you enjoy your cookbook dear. With your busy work schedules I thought maybe you could use some new recipes for your Crock-Pot so you have something different to try". What?!? The words came flying out of my mouth, "Sally, I don't have a Crock-Pot". What?!? All heads turned. Grandma Teddy's, Sally's, Aunt Vicki and Nancy. In unison "You don't have a Crock-Pot!". Exactly!!! Did nobody read my list!! For the last 4 years!!! I don't have a Crock-Pot!!!!

I got my first Crock-Pot three months later for my birthday from Nancy. At Christmas I got a small Crock-Pot from Sally. That same Christmas I got a slow-cooker (it's a little different than a Crock-Pot) from Grandma Teddy. That same Christmas at a Christmas party I won a little tiny Crock-Pot.

I was a member of the Crock-Pot Club!! What a member in good standing I was. I was cooking everything in those Crock-Pots. Some days I would have three going! There was nothing like coming home after a long hard day at work. After a day of running and being frazzled; to the warm, welcoming smell of dinner cooking. Crocks of delicious soups, chili, roasts, ribs. Sharing dishes with friends that were kept warm and served out of them. Just like I had dreamed.

Fast forward many years (12). I remember in 2000. I was newly divorced. I had went to the laundromat with Kyle, Justin and Gregory. It was the day after New Years Day. It was about 21 below out. While I was getting the kids settled and transporting my laundry from the car into the laundromat I handed Kyle the soap and asked him to go put it in the car. He came back in "Where's the car Mom". "Right outside the door". "No, it isn't". "Kyle". I walked to the door. The car was not there. It had been stolen. I was at the laundromat with 3 young children (1 a little baby) and piles of laundry. The laundry baskets had been put in the car. This was my only form of transportation. I had no idea what I was going to do. After calling the police and the police officer going to the store to purchase some garbage bags to put my laundry in, helping me put the laundry in the garbage bags and helping me load up the kids and laundry in his police car to drive me home, I arrived home. As I walked into the house, my mind spinning of what just happened and what I was going to do, all I remember was the smell of ribs cooking in the Crock-Pot. Dinner I had put in before we had left for the laundromat. The warm, welcoming smell. The smell of safety, comfort. The Crock-Pot sitting there on the counter. The symbol of those that loved me and cared about me. Things were going to be O.K.

Fast forward 9 years to today. I have all my original Crock-Pots and have acquired some new. When I married Dave, he had one. I have won another (that is shaped like a football) and purchased one last fall. It was a new design. The crock comes out of the heating element (that is how old mine are) to put in the fridge and it also has handles that lock on the sides for easy transport to potlucks, etc. It is also extra-large capacity. It is the new "fancy" model.

I still like how my older ones heat up and cook better, but the new one sure is purtey!

I had a very busy weekend. We had a a wrestling invitational meet here in New Richmond. The Wrestling Club, which we are in, sponsored the event. For those of you not familiar; an invitational is where your school invites many other schools and hosts the event. Your school takes care of getting the mats out, the gym set up, custodial service, programs, providing water to the teams, coaches, refs, and concessions for everyone. The day begins at 7:00 a.m. and goes until about 10:00 p.m.. There were 8 other schools participating. I was part of concessions. We had to make, provide and prepare all concession items, set everything up, work the concessions and tear everything down.

I made 2 gallons of chili, brownies and brought 2 extra large coolers I use for weddings for the pop and ice, and, of course, provided Crock-Pots.

There they were. All of them lined up on the floor in the backseat. For some, this was their first trip to a pot-luck. For others, they have been doing it since 1988. The new fancy model was all loaded up with chili (remember, large capacity). The others, were empty, for now.

We arrived at the school and off they were whisked to the kitchen. Nancy was filled up with cheese for the nachos. Grandma Teddy was filled up with taco meat for the Walking Tacos, Dave was filled up with hot dogs, and Sally was filled with broccoli for the loaded baked potatoes.

Hundreds of adults and children passed by me and my crocks full of fixin's. I was busy, scooping, stirring, refilling........all day long. At the end of day, my back hurt, my hands were sore, my feet ached. We were finished. We had had a very successful day.

The school was cleaned out. Most everyone had gone home. I walked back to the kitchen where everything had been taken to get cleaned up to get my items to put in the car and go home. As I walked in the door, in the quiet of the still school that had been so full of laughter, whistles, activity all day long, I was beyond tired. I looked up and there on the counter. There they sat. Sparkling from being freshly cleaned and ready to go home. Nancy, Dave, Grandma Teddy and Sally. A smile crept across my face and a warmth filled my heart. I gathered them and put them in the car.

Sally has been gone for many, many, years. Grandma Teddy has been in a nursing home for nearly 10 years now with alzheimers. Nancy was diagnosed with lung cancer last year and continues her battle.

As I brought the crocks home and put them on their shelf. Sally's right next to my worn and ever so loved "Crock-Pot Cookbook" I took pause. I smiled and I looked up. I simply said "Thank You".

The Crock-Pots had contributed to yet another fun and laughter filled day. Provided their warmth, comfort and sharing. Just like the women who had provided them to me. Just like the lives they lived and represented. Just like the many other Grandmas, Mothers and women who have lovingly prepared in and served out of crocks just like them.

I couldn't be more honored to be a member of the Crock-Pot Club!

How Did This Happen?

I am prancing around in my kitchen going from the homemade Italian sausage, to the frying bacon, sauteed celery, onions, and garlic and ground chuck (more about all that in another post)and I catch a glimpse of my reflection.

Although I have showered and been up since 6:30 a.m, I am still in my p.j.'s (I got busy in my office with brides and vendors on the phone and emails, and schedules of the boys), I have rollers in my hair, it is 2:30 in the afternoon, and I am cooking food that isn't for me. I am concerned about getting the laundry done before I have to leave to get Gregory to wrestling practice and get to Kyle's match in Fridley at 5:00. How did this happen.......I have turned into a Housewife/Mother......and not a young one just starting out!!

When did this happen?

Who did this to me? That is what I would like to know!

I guess I live my life in denial. I don't think this is me. I don't have a sore back, arthritis creeping in, skin that I now consider keeping out of the sun so it doesn't look "aged", gray hairs that keep poking their little heads. I don't have what are beginning to look like grown men calling me "Mom". I don't have what I call "floosies", (although I am certain they are lovely girls except for the fact they want to date my boys) calling my boys and giggling when they walk by. I don't have a child that owns a vehicle!

I have an Uncle, Clark. He is one of those "timeless" people. He looks pretty much the same as he did 25 years ago. Whenever I start to feel a little age creeping in I can look at a recent picture of Clark and because he looks 25 years ago, it takes me back 25 years ago and those thoughts of getting older go away. All is right with the world.

The other day Uncle Clark posted on my blog about when he was going to see a video of me snowboarding. I wrote him a letter and told him when he went, I would go too. He had the nerve to write me back and tell me he was too old!! Too old........Clark......?! How dare he take my youth away from me in one swoop. Because he doesn't age....I don't age. Now he says he is getting older..........that must mean I am getting older too!

As I was prancing around the kitchen....after I got this glimpse of my reflection, I turned my attention back to my dancing to the Willie and Waylon I had playing in the background. I then listened to a little AC/DC (only I remember it when Back in Black was just coming out :( ). I found myself feeling 25 years younger again.

I don't care what you say Clark. You are not getting old. You just need to turn some music on!