Wowsa!

Okay, so spring arrived here in the South about a month ago...seriously! We are in full bloom, and I drive past the following scenes twice a day, every day. Today, I decided I really needed to stop and take a picture or two before it was too late.

This is the realm of the land baron...our measly 2 acres is nothin' down here, and that is just one of the many things I love about living in this area. Seems that the attitude is "go big or go home". We don't just plant one Bradford Pear...

no, no, no...

we line both sides of our driveways with Bradford Pears, and we fill our yards with magnolias and forsythia and daffodils and azaleas and crepe myrtle and God knows what else...

but damn! It is truly a lovely way to live!

These are two different driveways, by the way...two of many just like it...

Obviously, the trees in the bottom picture are just about ready to go green.

I'm keeping my eye on one particular yard that is absolutely filled with bulbs...I'll keep you posted.

My Tunes

Anyone who knows me well knows that I love music. I love music that makes you want to sing and dance and smile. Loud and proud, baby! 

I’m a classic rock girl, but I also love those old, really obscure pop hits from the 60’s, 70’s and maybe the 80’s that you would NEVER hear if you just tuned into the classic rock radio station. And, if you know me well, you know I’m something of a savant when it comes to this subject.

I come by it honestly. I grew up on the Kingston Trio, Ray Stevens, Johnnie Horton, and all the old show tunes. I think we wore out the soundtrack from The Sound of Music. The four of us and the three neighbor kids, when left to our devices while our parents went out to dinner, came up with a rather entertaining mini opera based on Snoopy and the Red Baron. And let us not forget Mitch Miller. Car rides with our parents were virtual sing-a-longs to such greats as Anne Murray, The Carpenters, and Vickie Carr. I was in high school before I learned that “Light My Fire” did not originate with Perry Como, or some such other crooner...call me embarrassed! (I missed that particular Ed Sullivan show.)

My sisters and I used to sing anything we could come up with while we were doing dishes…harmonizing in a cappella. One of our better performances was the Battle Hymn of the Republic, and, during the holidays, Adeste Fideles. When I say “better”, I don’t mean good.

As we got older my older brother contributed with the great rock bands of the 70’s…The Guess Who, Chicago, Three Dog Night, Creedence Clearwater Revival…I could go on forever here. Then of course, there was the American Top 40, which we would tune into, sitting right next to the speaker with the microphone of our tape recorder strategically placed, pirating our own tapes.  The problem with this technology was there had to be absolute silence in the room. I was particularly miffed at my older sister when she let out several whoops and hollers while jamming to Rockin’ Robin (a la a very young Michael Jackson).

As teenagers, when the kids would all ride together, our road trips to the Lake of the Ozarks were jammin’ with the Eagles, Head East, Boston, Gary Wright.

As adults, my older sister introduced me to the “be the first to name that tune and artist” game while we were on a road trip. She did this with absolutely no introduction…just blurted out the song and artist, and informed me she had 10 points on me. Game on. She picked the wrong girl…I can kick her butt on that one without even trying. My younger sister, who spends a lot of time in her car listening to Sirius radio by virtue of the fact that she lives in a big city, calls me randomly with the phone to her car speaker when something truly “out-of-the-blue” comes on.  

My own road trip CD line up starts with Bob Seger’s Greatest Hits (first) album, which appropriately begins with “Roll Me Away” (BTW, if you don’t love Seger, you’re dead to me). Later in the lineup comes Meatloaf’s Bat Out of Hell album just in time to beat the road wearies. All sing-out-loud songs. You get the point.

I married someone with a similar background, with the exception that he really does have some singing talent. So, when I told him that I wanted to fill my i-Pod with those really great, really obscure songs, he became an enabler. We actually stayed up until 2 am one Saturday morning, playing around on i-Tunes and making a list…a very long list. The great thing is he has 11 years on me, so he came up with a lot of things I had forgotten about. i-Tunes enables you, too, because they make suggestions based on your searches. 

Sooo, I was thrilled when he presented me with a generous i-Tunes gift card last week. I burned through that puppy in less than an hour. And now, I have the greatest playlist ever!

The problem is the list is still fairly long and I have no idea how many songs my i-Pod will hold. Right now I’m close to 350 songs (no, I have not spent this much on i-Tunes…most of my CD collection is on there, too), and it will be a very sad day indeed if I’m ever forced to delete songs to make room for more. It will be like trying to choose between your children.

On that note (pun intended), feel free to post your own suggestions…

ETA: I should, in all fairness, let you know that a good part of my really fabulous playlist includes songs from our daughter...she comes by it honestly...

For Chris...

Yesterday morning I woke up to a beautiful spring day. The birds were singing, and the sun was shining, and the daffodils were blooming, and all was right with the world. That is, all was right with my world.

Until I turned on my phone … and it immediately beeped with a devastating message from my sister letting me know that someone very dear to us lost her battle with cancer very early Saturday morning.

And then the sun seemed too bright, the birds seemed too loud, the world was too happy and full of itself. How can this be when this lovely woman, who guided so many young lives, who was such a delight to be around, is suddenly gone? How can this be when two happy, beautiful young women have lost their mother, a husband his sweetheart, a brother his only sibling, a father his only daughter?

My heart breaks for this family. I can’t bear to imagine their sadness and grief, the loss of all their tomorrows with her…of all the promises of joys to be shared. 

No, all is not right with their world, and I pray that, someday, it will be right again.

What comes rushing at me now, is the reminder that life is short and fleeting. 

That in the blink of an eye there are no more tomorrows to make things right, to do things differently.

Let us be gentle to the people we love.

Let us be forgiving of the people we love.

Let us reach out to the people we love, instead of waiting for them to reach out to us…

Because, that “someday” may never come.

As my baby sister so eloquently told me, “Our real epitaph isn't words carved on a stone, it's memories carved on the hearts of the ones we love.”   

Chris, you will live on in the hearts of the many lives you touched.

The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and the flowers are blooming for you.

Rest in peace…

Rest in peace.

Damn You, Angry Birds!

Last July, I finally decided to step into the right decade and upgrade my cell phone. This was precipitated only because I had to change cell providers, and this was because my cell provider didn’t extend to the wilds of northwest Georgia. I actually had not intended to get an iPhone, because, I surely didn’t need all that nonsense on my phone, BUT AT&T gave me a rockin’ deal on one, and after looking at it and determining how totally cool it really was, I caved.

Soooo, around Christmas I decided that it may be time to actually set the phone up to do what it was intended to do. That is, play music and games, right? Oh, and all those really cool apps, too. To be honest, I probably wouldn’t have done it even then if I hadn’t received an iTunes gift card for Christmas.

First I checked out the free games and downloaded Jetpack, which is really kind of fun in a crash and burn sort of way. One really needs to be feeling energetic in order to play this, though. The other free one was a modernized version of Atari’s Pong, which is also fun if you’re looking for something less strategic.

Then, on a whim, I decided to burn 99 cents of my gift card on Angry Birds. Hello! There is something quite charming about those little birds, each with their own special powers, jumping and doing backflips, as they wait their turn to catapult to their deaths in order to save their eggs from the evil green pigs. I hate to admit this, but it took me a long time to figure out that those creatures were actually pigs. (Hanging head in shame.)

Well, it didn’t take long to fall under the Angry Birds spell. And, like an addict, I used every free moment to satisfy my AB craving. The only thing that kept me in check was that the game blazes through battery life. I also started noticing that my neck and shoulders were starting to hurt. Seriously, I was only using my fingers, so what gives here? Then I realized that every time I sling-shotted one of those birds I would tense up until the moment of impact in anticipation of death and destruction.

Then, after repeated attempts, successfully destroying pigs through what seems to be a gazillion levels, AB added insult to injury, taunting me with the ol’, “Congratulations, you made it, but you’re just not good enough, because you didn’t get the coveted three stars on every level. Go back and try again, you big loser!” Grrr. But, being defiant and strong-willed I said, “To hell with you, I don’t need a stinkin’ three stars to make me feel superior about laying waste to a bunch of smirking green pigs and sacrificing a bunch of innocents birds in the process.”

So, I carried on and finally made it through every level of every section. Done, finished…I can get on with my life, right? But that taunt was rattling around in my subconscious…I succumbed. Again, hanging my head in shame, but I now have the coveted three stars in every level of Poached Eggs. One down, six more to go. I need a break!

Damn you Angry Birds and your vile three star Kool-Aid!

(Oh, and you’ll be happy to know that I now have 269 songs on my iPhone's iPod and one book on my iPhone's iBook app…just call me i-Girl!)

Apparently, I Married the Virus Fairy….

Okay, okay, okay….I know it’s been awhile; and I’ve been told by more than one person (my husband included) that it was time for another post. In my defense all I can say is that it is extremely hard to be creative with a head full of snot. Sorry to be so graphic, but SERIOUSLY….

And, yes, it really has been a virtual viral smorgasbord around here since that last post when I was feeling so strong and healthy. And it’s all Mr. B’s fault.

One day after arriving back home (Thanksgiving weekend) after very brave road trip across the country with two teenagers and a not small dog, he started sniffing, and snorting, and hacking. I was all over it with Air Born, high doses of vitamins, and pseudoephedrine…which is my personal viral-busting elixir. But, oh no, not this time…2 days later I sound like a drag queen and my head is swimming in a green fog …which is absolutely perfect, because…I was two days into a NEW JOB.  A chapped nose, glassy eyes and phlegmy cough does not make a great impression…people tend to avoid you.

Oh, and speaking of making an impression…3 days into the new job, I displayed my grace and agility by rolling my ankle as I hit the last stair, landing on my butt with my feet in the air in front of an audience of co-workers. As they stood staring down at me, I was sending up the prayerful litany, “please, Dear God, please don’t let it be broken”. It wasn’t, but it’s still tender, and all the twisting, turning, and rolling also tweaked the ball of my foot, AND I managed to pull the muscle in my right thigh.

And, did I mention my workspace is located on the third floor of a very old bank building that has no elevator? Yeah, I spent a lot of time bracing myself against the wall as I made my way up and down the stairs. Cute.

So about a dozen boxes of tissues, a warehouse of cold medicine and Clorox wipes later, we finally begin to feel somewhat human again, and it’s the week before Christmas.

AND, two days after arriving back home from a quick Christmas weekend trip to Missouri, guess who starts sniffing and snorting and hacking again? I was in the kitchen when I heard him, and I almost lobbed a box of Kleenex at his head. And two days later? Yeah…then I yelled at him and went to bed.

We’re starting to feel somewhat better again, but guess who leaves on a business trip tomorrow, and guess who spent a ridiculous amount of money on immunity-boosting, high-powered his and her supplements today?  And guess who will be taking HIS high-powered, immunity-boosting supplements with him on this business trip, along w/ strict instructions to take them faithfully twice a day or the Kleenex-box-to-the-head threat will become a reality?

We will survive…

Or die trying.

I Am Woman...Hear Me Roar

It takes 89 steps (all up hill) with an empty dolly to get to the storage shed.

It takes 109 downhill steps to get to the back door with a fully loaded dolly.

(If this situation were reversed, I’d being sprawled in a heap, partially buried in wet leaves with a certain pup licking my face in an attempt to revive me.)

It took 7 round trips (fraught with wet leaves, hidden tree roots, rocks, ditches, etc.) to get all of my stamping supplies transferred from the storage shed to the house.

Or 623 uphill steps.

And 763 downhill steps.

For a grand total of 1,386 steps.

For the sake of perspective, that would be like 69.3 trips up and down your basement stairs. (You should just make it an even 70, because no one wants to hang out on the basement stairs.)

For kicks let’s just say the stairs are rickety and covered w/ wet leaves and while going up the stairs you’re carrying a toddler, and while you’re going down the stairs you’re carrying two toddlers and are accompanied by a Labrador retriever, over whom you’re trying not to trip.

AND someone has turned on the humidifier.

(I look like a 60’s era country-western singer at the moment.)

Anyway, if I did this every day I’m certain I’d have Bonnie Blair thighs.

Thighs of steel are overrated.

I think I’ll go drink a beer.

Painting Paneling....

It's not for the weak of heart or spirit....
especially, when the paneling in question is of the cheap, faux wood variety...
but it sure makes a big difference.
I chose to paint it, rather than replace it with drywall, because, well...it would cost a small fortune, and I don't even want to think about the mess and destruction that would entail...been there, not interested in re-visiting!
And, you know what?
I think the "plank wall" look is rather interesting.
I'm strange like that.

Anyway, the before:

and after:

The color on this wall matches the kitchen cabinets in order to tie the kitchen and dining area together. Genius...I know.

I thought I'd snapped a before shot of this wall, but apparently I was mistaken. So, you'll have to use your imagination.

I chose white for this wall, because the kitchen's beadboard stopped to the left of the door, and I wanted to keep the color on that wall consistent. Again...tying the whole thing together.

I'm looking at this picture, thinking that the wall looks really stark compared to the other one...but, and you have to trust me on this, it looks much better in real life and viewed as a whole. Really.

So, there you have it.
Are you getting sick of this before and after nonsense yet?