tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230526362024-03-13T08:20:49.848-04:00the last remaining brain cell......because at the end
of the day, one is all
I have left.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16458167760921311439noreply@blogger.comBlogger65125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23052636.post-51482020028972515212012-07-26T04:35:00.001-04:002012-07-26T04:35:09.292-04:00I didn't wear his rank or his uniform. I didn't stand duty or deploy. I didn't attend schools and seminars or check into a new command every few years. I didn't study endless hours for an advancement exam or put myself in the line of fire to defend our country. What I did, however, was stand beside him through all the years he served. I took care of his house and his children. I smiled proudly when he received an award, and cried silently when he was passed over for one much deserved. I attended meetings, ceremonies, fund raisers, and many birthday balls. I shoveled snow, cut grass, fixed leaky faucets, read bedtime stories, wiped away tears and kissed boo boos in his absence. Like him, to his family and his country, I remained loyal, steadfast and true. I wear no insignia upon my chest or collar, nor stripes upon my arm showing the number of years I have 'served.' But - I have also served. Proudly.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16458167760921311439noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23052636.post-66105655988631489922011-09-07T20:47:00.004-04:002011-09-07T22:10:11.851-04:00I'll get by with a little help from...Me! If you know me in real life, you know that I do not like to ask for help. Ever. According to my baby book, "I do it mommy!" was my first sentence. I believe it. <br /><br />I have changed light fixtures in my house. By myself. I have painted rooms and ceilings. By myself. I have cut down trees and moved big rocks. By myself. Get the picture? Now sometimes I enjoy my chore solitude; sometimes not. But that doesn't make me pick up that phone and call someone to come to my aide. Not even when I put up a new ceiling fan/light in the kitchen and it didn't have power. Randy called my dad - for help. ;)<br /><br />I do take pride in the fact that I don't *need* anyone to help me. I may take me hours longer, make me throw things and generally act like a two year old having a tantrum, but I will do.it.myself.<br /><br />I really think I need to get over this. I'm pretty sure it has a lot to do with being a military spouse and being the only adult here most of the time. But I think I also have to admit that it's bred into me. Just ask me about my mom's do-it-herself projects: The painted "everything" - as kids we swore if we stood still long enough, mom would paint us. The sanded dining room table - it was scratched so she wanted to refinish it - it was formica. The oxidized paint on my aunt's VW beetle - my mom and her two sisters painted it with Rustoleum paint and rollers.<br /><br />So now I'm putting the curtain rod brackets back up after the window replacement. I'm too short and short on patience. But I will do it. By myself.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16458167760921311439noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23052636.post-66170261492233811022011-06-28T23:20:00.003-04:002011-06-28T23:26:19.030-04:00Just F*cking Do It!<div>(a book written by Denise R. Copyright 2011)<br />This book is dedicated to Kathleen and Shelby, without whom I would have more brain cells. Love, mommy.<br /><br />The days are so short and I’m not a magician<br />To get everything done into the time it must fit.<br />So I ask for one favor from you, my dear child.<br />Don’t talk back - just fucking do it.<br /><br />Children everywhere, across the span of this great land<br />Are so lazy and on their asses they sit.<br />But we parents are busy, we really need help -<br />Get up, shut up and just fucking do it.<br /><br />Oh we hear that you’re tired, from school or from play<br />How exhausted you must be, but this mess is YOUR shit!<br />I’m telling you, no, I don’t have to say please!<br />Quit your stalling, stop the bitching and DO IT!<br /><br />Why is it that I only have to look in your direction<br />And you start rolling your eyes and pitching a fit?<br />When we even agree you stomp off to your room<br />As I scream down the hall - just fucking do it!!!!<br /><br />We’re so alike; we’re both procrastinators<br />Our favorite phrase is “In a minute!”<br />But I want what I want when I want it<br />Get off your ass, right now, and fucking do it!<br /><br />It’s sweet that you’re so close to your daddy.<br />When he’s home all the fun just doesn’t quit.<br />But I can’t stand that when HE starts to do something<br />You smile and say “Relax Dad, I’ll do it!”</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16458167760921311439noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23052636.post-54248720891941872592011-05-16T17:42:00.005-04:002011-05-16T17:52:27.437-04:00A little yarn therapyI haven't knit in months. Not a stitch of crocheting has passed my fingertips in years. But yesterday I succumbed to the temptation posted <a href="http://bluepeninsula.blogspot.com/">here</a> and started to crochet that beautiful shawl.<br /><br />It's a fast project and I'm already about a third done. Love visible progress...<em>fast</em> visible progress...I am not a patient person. <br /><br />So on this dreary, :::cold:::, rainy Monday I have spent most of my day off crocheting away while occasionally loading and unloading the dishwasher and making it at least 'look' like I've done something around here. <br /><br />At bedtime I'll be disappointed with my housekeeping skills, but thrilled with my crafty skills. Works for me.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16458167760921311439noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23052636.post-62299428798142061532011-03-07T07:03:00.003-05:002011-03-07T07:08:15.070-05:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jSk_DGuDERQ/TXTKeCZMeVI/AAAAAAAAAdI/8tvV-h3ZIu0/s1600/001.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jSk_DGuDERQ/TXTKeCZMeVI/AAAAAAAAAdI/8tvV-h3ZIu0/s400/001.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581308455606319442" /></a><br />Well, a little late on this one too... Nothing new to report on the ORT/Tusal front. I'm still knitting away on my Peakes Island Hoodie (and still haven't taken a picture of it).Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16458167760921311439noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23052636.post-55835112997758772712011-03-03T09:16:00.002-05:002011-03-03T09:32:17.458-05:00March-ing on!We are now three months into 2011 and I just don't know where the time has gone! I joke to everyone that I don't even remember January, but I'm not joking. It's been an exhausting year so far but sitting here looking out my dining room window, I can forget how cold it is and see the beautiful sun shining.<br /><br />I've been very busy being a mom and all that entails, plus some that until a few days ago I hadn't been able to wrap my head around the fact that in three months I should be moving! There is so much to do and that mental list runs on a constant loop through my brain. I should write everything down to release it all from my thoughts, but I'm afraid to see it in black and white!!<br /><br />Besides worrying, I've been doing a little knitting, working on <a href="http://ysolda.com/patterns/accessories/peaks-island-hood/">this</a>. I'm using Woobu in a beautiful blue and am almost done. I've put myself on a yarn diet, not needing to buy any more for a long while! I shudder to think of how many boxes of yarn I'll be moving to VA. haha. Still, if I had had the time on Monday while in New York City, I would've run, not walked, to <a href="http://www.purlsoho.com/purl">Purl SoHo </a>for some merino and stainless steel yarn to make a Kusha Kusha scarf.<br /><br />So I'll be back tomorrow with a TUSAL post and maybe some pics of my almost-done hood. Until then, back to cleaning, and checking some things off that mental list...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16458167760921311439noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23052636.post-18595366203563999642011-02-05T08:55:00.003-05:002011-02-05T09:20:31.904-05:00I'm back...and TUSAL (finally!)<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/TU1YOoq-JoI/AAAAAAAAAcg/R-cpXE9t6Hw/s1600/003.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/TU1YOoq-JoI/AAAAAAAAAcg/R-cpXE9t6Hw/s400/003.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5570205322586236546" /></a><br />I cannot believe I haven't posted since November. Well, really I can since it's been a crazy couple of months around here, but that's for another post. I'm here now because I've joined a little group and wanted (needed!) to share. It's called TUSAL for "Totally Useless Stitch-a-long" and each month we all save our little bits and pieces of yarn and thread from our craft projects and post our 'progress.' For me, it's something to keep me accountable for being creative. Not working so far, but I've only missed one month and am on track now. (If you count being a day late as being 'on track')<br />So here's my picture. It's filled with yarn bits from two projects - one finished (a baby sweater) and one still in progress (a scarf) and a promise for 2011 to post more of my knitting projects!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16458167760921311439noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23052636.post-26978410243601800852010-11-27T15:39:00.003-05:002010-12-04T13:55:32.362-05:00Christmas CardsIn the past I have gone back and forth about Christmas cards. One year sent, next not, next 2 years sent, next few not. It all depends on my level of stress whether or not I send cards. <br /><br />But this past summer we had some beautiful family photos taken and I am thinking that 2010 is a "sent" year. I really cannot send prints to "everyone," but as a Christmas card, everyone appreciates seeing the 'whole family' rather than just the girls.<br /><br />Shutterfly has an awesome new selection of holiday cards (click <a href="http://www.shutterfly.com/cards-stationery/holiday-cards ">here</a>). I might think too awesome because I just cannot choose which one to use. I love them all!<br /><br />There are different types of cards to choose from such as folded cards, flat stationery cards, and flat photo cards (click <a href="http://www.shutterfly.com/cards-stationery">here</a>). I can do just one family photo or individual shots of each of us, or a combo of different poses - the possibilities are endless!<br /><br />Shutterfly has a layout to fit every Christmas card need. Want just one photo on your card? 2? more? The layout options are endless and it's very easy to upload your photos and add them to the card layout.<br /><br />A great gift I have sent in the past is a photo calendar (click <a href="http://www.shutterfly.com/calendars/desk-calendars ">here</a>). Each month your family turns the calendar page to see another great family photo! This is a wonderful gift for far-away relatives!<br /><br />This year, I'll be sending Shutterfly photo Christmas cards, you should too!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16458167760921311439noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23052636.post-26598767389071421782010-09-01T05:56:00.009-04:002010-09-01T08:42:12.873-04:001st Day of Middle School<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/TH5JTKsIjqI/AAAAAAAAAbk/jQFb3vtw0dQ/s1600/007.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/TH5JTKsIjqI/AAAAAAAAAbk/jQFb3vtw0dQ/s400/007.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511923587583872674" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/TH5JZ_dLP5I/AAAAAAAAAbs/q1503yz-41Q/s1600/005.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/TH5JZ_dLP5I/AAAAAAAAAbs/q1503yz-41Q/s400/005.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511923704827428754" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Woke up with this in my head this morning, much to Shelby's dismay... haha.<br /><br />(Sung to the tune of the Beatle's "Yesterday")<br /><br />First day of school today<br />My little girl looks so grown up, and hey-<br />All those preschool days are far away<br />My baby starts middle school today<br /><br />How did she<br />Ever get to be taller than me?<br />That's not hard because I'm 5'3<br />My baby starts middle school today<br /><br />Why'd she have to grow?<br />And not slow - it went so fast!<br />Those cute baby days, went away<br />She's in middle school today-ay-ay-ay<br /><br />First day of school today,<br />Soon I'll wipe my tears and shout HOORAY<br />But 3 o'clock will come so quick, and hey<br />She'll be back home<br />And I'll hope for the second day!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16458167760921311439noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23052636.post-68951446471261551152010-08-07T07:33:00.005-04:002010-08-07T10:58:04.192-04:00Keep on Cheering in the Free World!<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/TF1u4bj9fmI/AAAAAAAAAbU/3aQ5f2h9J8U/s1600/thumbnailCA7SCM0A.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 152px; height: 160px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/TF1u4bj9fmI/AAAAAAAAAbU/3aQ5f2h9J8U/s400/thumbnailCA7SCM0A.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502676235466931810" /></a>Sorry Bob Dylan but that's the song I'm singing loud and proud. With one pom-pom-carrying fist raised to the heavens I will make sure justice is carried out and cheerleaders throughout my community are represented and protected.<br /><br />Okay, I haven't lost my mind, I've just attended the first of many mandatory (yes, MANDATORY) cheer-parent meetings of the season. Now before you get your bloomers in a bunch let me state here the obligatory disclaimer: This post is purely satirical. I do not intend to blaspheme, slander, disrespect or otherwise misrepresent ANYONE involved with our local cheerleader organization. Hell, I was even a Team Mom for one season and <strike>regret</strike> enjoyed it immensely. I respect everyone involved with the organization and thank you for what you do throughout the year. Just keep in mind that my twisted sense of humor must find irony and sarcasm in everything around me lest I go insane. So I apologize in advance to anyone involved for anything said that offends. Lighten up and take a minute to see it from my smart-alecky point of view. You just may laugh, too.<br /><br />Anyway, this past week was the first week of cheer practice. My 12 year old has been a cheerleader for half her life. That hurt just to type it. Anyone who knows me from high school knows I have a love/hate relationship with cheerleading. I love it because my daughter does. She LIVES cheerleading for three months out of the year. We hear cheers being recited from the shower, continually listen to cheer music being blasted from speakers while routines are learned and practiced and we recite "one,two - three,four - five,six - se...ven,EIGHT" over and over in our sleep. We gladly and proudly support our cheerleader and her efforts to perfect her high-jumps and cartwheels right down to a 'high V, low V, daggers, <strong>T</strong>!!" We attend every game and practice and the ultimate of every cheerleader's career...Competition! I love to watch her on the sidelines even when the temps dip below my comfort range of 68 - 75 degreesF and I haven't spiked my hot chocolate with anything stronger than milk. She's my daughter and what makes her happy, makes me happy.<br /><br />However...(you knew that was coming, right?)...let me get to the root of the 'hate' portion. I wanted to be a cheerleader in high school. I dreamed of being a cheerleader with the cute short-skirted uniform worn to school the day before game day and the perfected high-jumps and cartwheels. But we all know the end of this story. I tried out freshman year and didn't make it. My high-jumps and cartwheels were FAR from perfect, but more importantly, I wasn't part of the "in" crowd and my pom-poms just weren't big enough to fill the cheer sweater. Cliques and scornful looks and snide comments ended my cheering career before it even began. Can you blame me for my resulting distaste for cheerleaders that has hung on for more than ::ahem:: ... well, A LOT of years?<br /><br />So with the first week of my daughter's cheer practice comes the first mandatory parent meeting. I really don't know what would happen if neither Randy nor I attended these meetings, but frankly they have me too scared to find out. These cheerleader Leaders have everyone intimidated. We have to line up no sooner than one minute before practice starts to sign the girls in, line up no later than one minute after practice ends to sign the girls out, line up to sign in for the meeting. Don't forget to get your color-coded folder-stocked-with-many-forms-to-fill-out-and-return-ASAP-or-your-daughter-will-never-be-allowed-to-cheer-again. And puh-lease sit quietly and attentively while we go over this season's rules, which are almost identical to last season's rules but with a few more thrown in for fun.<br /><br />My favorite one of the communist-rules yesterday was: There are too many bathroom breaks being taken so puh-lease make sure your cheerleader goes before leaving the house. Doesn't sound too unreasonable, right? Well, cheer practice is 2 hours long in the HOT sun and they are <strike>required by rules</strike> encouraged to bring a water bottle to stay hydrated. Now I know my bladder is many, many years older than theirs, but I know I couldn't continually hydrate AND jump around for two hours without having to pee (or pee myself). What's the answer? Scheduled bathroom breaks? Don't drink TOO much? Cheer in the shade? I don't know, but I'm heading to Wal-Mart to get my daughter pull-ups 'just-in-case.'<br /><br />Another chuckle escaped from me when the subject of fundraising came up. We have two fundraisers for great reasons. The girls get t-shirts for 'free' and fair entry for 'free' and trophies and banquet dinner for 'free,' and the girls love all this 'free' stuff. But we parents pay for it and once again, I am not saying this is wrong. I just don't like being told that each girl is 'required to donate' a set amount for one fundraiser. I know that many parents slack off on various sport and school-related fundraisers and I've been guilty of this as well. But the hell-bent on rebellion part of me resents being told I HAVE to do anything. And being told that I HAVE to write a check (or beg family and friends) for a certain amount or my daughter will NOT get her uniform just burns my ...backside. Sounds a bit like extortion, doesn't it? I've paid the registration fee and the snack fee and the refundable uniform deposit fee. I have bought the required parts of the uniform that my daughter has grown out of and have paid for new cheer sneakers. I will buy my hot chocolate at the concession stand and buy 50/50 raffle tickets at the games. I will purchase assorted team logo-wear for both my daughter and myself. I will cheerfully and willingly drive my daughter to and from practices and games no matter how far away. And I will buy our tickets to the banquet to watch my daughter eat her 'free' meal and receive her 'free' trophy which will more than likely end up in a box in her closet with the many other 'free' trophies I've paid for over the years. Maybe I should start a Christmas Club account this year for next years expenses, or have an allotment sent from Randy's paycheck straight to their account. All this aside, piss-poor planning on my part DOES require you to hear about it. Any amount of money for my daughter to be happy. (That sound you heard was coffee spewing from my nostrils - did you choke on that line too? haha!)<br /><br />I dearly hope nobody takes this to heart. Seriously. A little humor (usually at someone else's expense) goes a long way to helping me get through the day, and like I said before this was all written tongue-in-cheek (well, MOST of it anyway). My daughter is at that age where self-esteem and self confidence can take a hit quite easily if I get too careless and leave my mommy-watch for a minute. I am beyond grateful and thankful that for at least three months out of the year cheering gives her this self-confidence boost. God knows that at her age or even now I wouldn't have the <strike>nuts</strike> guts to get up in front of a crowd and do what she does.<br /><br />Yes, I am all talk and no action. A-C-T-I-O-N ACTION!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16458167760921311439noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23052636.post-71650127207945663872010-08-07T00:29:00.003-04:002010-08-07T01:15:29.150-04:00"Why some animals eat their young"...<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/TFzrE8oj1UI/AAAAAAAAAbM/mb-5OvwaRrk/s1600/thumbnailCAW7ZJX8.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 160px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/TFzrE8oj1UI/AAAAAAAAAbM/mb-5OvwaRrk/s400/thumbnailCAW7ZJX8.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502531314968155458" /></a><br />...or "NOW I know why the female praying mantis kills her spouse after mating."<br /><br />It is almost 1 AM, as in "the morning." My day started at 8 AM - yesterday. It was a normal day around our household. That's not always a good thing. There were three girls (Shelby had a friend sleep over) and I here all day. At times I had a few minutes to myself...while the girls played Wii downstairs, when they went outside, while I was in the shower (although I did have to explain why I wasn't in the position to take a phone call while showering...).<br /><br />The rest of the hours were filled with the sounds of children: laughter (Shelby and her friend) and arguing (Kathleen and Shelby) - and the remnants of children: empty soda cans left in various places (none of which were the recycling bin), dirty dishes not put in the dishwasher, lights left on in broad daylight, flip flops left under the dining table and in front of doorways, more dirty dishes left on top of the stove, empty food boxes and a milk carton left on the kitchen counter, more lights (and the television) left on downstairs...get the picture?<br /><br />Oh, I almost forgot the dirty looks and rolling eyes I got everytime I told someone to stop arguing or to pick up the messes left behind. Academy Awards could've been handed out right and left today to the person with "Loudest Sigh" or "Most Profanity yelled at a Sister" or "Most Dramatic Eye-Roll." <br /><br />Guiness would be proud at the records broken today for "Highest Number of Drinking Glasses Used" and "Adding the Most Letter "O's" to the Name 'Mo-o-o-o-o-o-o-om" and "Ignoring Your Mother Calling You the Longest".<br /><br />Yes, it was a normal day around here. And according to the Mothering Handbook that I have yet to see in existence, let alone read, I'm supposed to take it all in and roll with the punches. Not. This. Mom.<br /><br />I'm sorry, but after 18 glorious hours of mothering I am tired of it. Don't get me wrong, I love my daughters more than anything else in this world. I would do anything for them and lay down my life for them. But apparently asking for a little help around here is equal to telling them they have to run naked down the middle of Route 12. Now, they are not bad kids - not at all - and sometimes I do get a bit of help: some vacuuming, dishes loaded or unloaded, laundry that makes it all-the-way-to-the-washer rather than thrown down the cellar stairs (a tear just came to my eye).<br /><br />But I digress. This post really isn't about what they do or do not do. It's more about me (of course). I want to know just how long in one 24 hour period do I have to 'graciously' (and if you know me, you know I use that tern loosely) put up with this crap? Seriously. Less than an hour ago chaos nearly erupted because it was LATE and I was still hearing about a loose tooth that won't come out and was asked avery two minutes to "just LOOK at it" and ::::gasp:::: I just didn't want to. AND I couldn't find my damn glasses so I COULD see it and get it over with.<br /><br />So fussing ensued and voices were raised and daddy had to come out of his room and console the person who 'only wanted Mom to look at my tooth.' Sharp looks were exchanged and even sharper words flew across the room and here I sit on the computer at 1 AM!!!<br /><br />Really? I thought my day was over. Don't laugh. My girls are older and do not require round-the-clock supervision and constant monitoring. I don't want to neglect them, I just want to stop referreeing. At any given time during my day I yell "Take it outside" like a barroom bouncer. Most times I'd give anything to see them duking it out in the front yard rather than have to listen to the petty bickering over who's breathing whose air or who looked at whom.<br /><br />WHERE in the manual does it say I have to be NICE??? I love them, I feed them, I give them a place to live. I don't have to tattoo "Welcome" on my forehead.<br /><br />Whew...I feel a little bit better. If you feel the need to comment on this rant, please do and try to keep it pleasant. I don't need you to agree with me, but I don't want to hear what a crappy mother I am. Because it may just send me to the roof with a pair of binoculars and a BB gun. And I'm NOT taking prisoners.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16458167760921311439noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23052636.post-60236770599189952532010-07-24T22:30:00.006-04:002010-07-25T02:26:21.988-04:00What I learned on my summer vacation...<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/TEvYuxFv_iI/AAAAAAAAAbE/dNX-mbEXbyM/s1600/129.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/TEvYuxFv_iI/AAAAAAAAAbE/dNX-mbEXbyM/s400/129.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497726068098858530" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I know, it's supposed to be what I 'did' on my summer vacation. But this summer has taught me a few things so far and I wanted to share them. So here goes...<br /><br />~ The first person to pack for vacation gets the biggest suitcase. And it wasn't me.<br /><br />~ People who drive a constant 50 MPH in the fast lane should not be allowed to drive on the interstate.<br /><br />~ Put two daughters in a car with one mom for hours on end and you are bound to want to drive off the road every mile or so.<br /><br />~ Living out of suitcases in your trunk for two weeks can test anyone's patience and organizations skills - both of which I don't usually have but acquired at the most inopportune time.<br /><br />~ Head beers (aka keg-stands) by grown adults are usually laughable but when done successfully, are admirable.<br /><br />~ You can't drink ALL DAY if you don't start in the morning.<br /><br />~ Hearing someone announce "I sang with the band!" the next morning means you all had a great time last night.<br /><br />~ Don't even attempt to stay overnight at a hotel with a 'heated' pool and non-working hot tub. You will regret it.<br /><br />~ Many, many years after the first time, I still cannot ride a horse.<br /><br />~ You can feel like family with people who have no blood relation to you and you can feel like you've never been apart with family you don't see often enough.<br /><br />~ Eating 'bar food' is perfectly healthy if everyone else is eating it too.<br /><br />~ Sending your child to the bar to get cheese curds and a kiddie cocktail by herself is not considered irresponsible at the campground.<br /><br />~ Leaving your 17 year old at the bar by herself to stay on the internet ALSO is not considered irresponsible at the campground.<br /><br />~ A 'girl's only' trip can be a way to bond with your daughters one minute and know why some animals eat their young the next.<br /><br />And finally...I can be the sole responsible adult and driver on a trip a third of the way across the country and make it there and back safely! Yeay me!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16458167760921311439noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23052636.post-913733548470258252010-06-28T23:52:00.008-04:002010-06-29T00:27:14.245-04:00What's been goin' on ova heeyah<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/TClx2kOilSI/AAAAAAAAAaU/jY5MPZDi-dU/s1600/077.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/TClx2kOilSI/AAAAAAAAAaU/jY5MPZDi-dU/s400/077.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488042803179197730" /></a>Well, it's been a busy few months around the ol' homestead and most of it stressful. We (and I do mean 'we') successfully managed to graduate from Ledyard High School, although Kathleen was the only one to walk up to get the diploma. Seriously, I am so proud of her, but I definitely could have done without the stress of last minute assignments and down to the wire test scores. Goodness...<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/TClzfbXdYZI/AAAAAAAAAa8/cwJtVIEXKKg/s1600/140.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/TClzfbXdYZI/AAAAAAAAAa8/cwJtVIEXKKg/s400/140.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488044604686950802" /></a><br /><br />But graduation evening was a wonderful one with bright sunshiney weather and joyful tears as my oldest baby reached an important milestone in her life. Love ya Chicken! <br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/TClx4RttrTI/AAAAAAAAAa0/-L2_IJLrPeQ/s1600/024.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/TClx4RttrTI/AAAAAAAAAa0/-L2_IJLrPeQ/s400/024.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488042832569412914" /></a><br /><br />Not to be outdone, Shelby successfully 'graduated' from 6th grade in elementary school and will be a big middle-school seventh grader in September. For the first time in twelve years I will not have a child in elementary school. Goodness again...<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/TClx3LpMcEI/AAAAAAAAAac/pzrLsL-aEp4/s1600/132.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/TClx3LpMcEI/AAAAAAAAAac/pzrLsL-aEp4/s400/132.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488042813759975490" /></a>Randy has had the most horrendous schedule on the submarine recently. We've seen less and less of him as time goes by and will see even LESS of him this summer. Such is the life I keep telling myself. Thankfully he was able to come home for a few hours and attend Kathleen's graduation ceremony. <br /><br />We had some family portraits taken last weekend by a wonderful photographer recommended by a friend. They are beautiful and capture our family's personality perfectly. You can see some of them <a href="http://staceymphotographyblog.com/">here</a> just scroll down to "The Reid Family" and click in the center of the flag for a slide show. We had such a great time during this photo session even though I usually 'hate' having my picture taken. I do look at myself in some of them and say "OMG!" but it is what it is and I really do like them. :)<br /><br />I've also been busy making cakes. Graduation, baby shower, birthday... You can see them h<a href="http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=744003289#!/pages/Let-Them-Eat-Cake-by-Denise-Reid/318169061561?ref=ts">ere</a><br /><br />Well the girls and I are taking a little "R & R" soon and I'm looking forward to that although I'll mostly hear "I'm bored" so many times I'll go out of my mind. Let's hope I bring them home with me....hahaha :::evil laugh:::Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16458167760921311439noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23052636.post-8952079089330721512010-06-20T12:10:00.002-04:002010-06-20T12:15:28.360-04:00Dear Blog,I know I have neglected you. I have not posted for a while, but please know I think of you often. I usually have a lot to say, I just haven't been saying it here. I apologize profusely and promise to be better. After all, an aspiring author should be writing something somewhere and I have not. Life gets in the way sometimes and I do have to tell you that my life has been in everybody's way lately!<br /><br />So with head hung low and apologies galore, I vow not to neglect you (this much) again. See you soon...<br /><br />~DeniseAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16458167760921311439noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23052636.post-38632380109221766302010-04-26T12:01:00.003-04:002010-04-26T12:17:09.433-04:00It's National Knit & Crochet Blogging Week!<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/S9W8XkQbnGI/AAAAAAAAAaM/4alw0Pl8V5o/s1600/001.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/S9W8XkQbnGI/AAAAAAAAAaM/4alw0Pl8V5o/s400/001.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464480835939572834" /></a>And I haven't yet received a card or small flower arrangement to commemorate this occasion from anyone! Well, that's okay, I forgive you all. Especially those of you who look at me from time to time with huge eyes when I tell you what a certain skein of yarn costs. Just remember, we're all a little bit crazy, mine just shows sometimes.<br /><br />So the topic of the day is: <em>How and when did you begin knitting/crocheting? was it a skill passed down through generations of your family, or something you learned from Knitting For Dummies? What or who made you pick up the needles/hook for the first time? Was it the celebrity knitting ‘trend’ or your great aunt Hilda?</em> <br /><br />I started crocheting when I was only four years old. My grandmother and mom crocheted colorful afghans for everyone in the family and I wanted in on the fun. I could only make a chain stitch at the time, but I made it about a million feet long and was so proud of myself.<br /><br />As I got older I made a few afghans myself and then turned to other creative outlets for a while. I was around 20 when I taught myself to knit with a little help from my (now) ex-mother-in-law and over time managed to make a couple sweaters, one that fit and one that didn't. haha.<br /><br />I put the needles down for a few years when my kids were younger but started again in earnest a few years ago. I've made several pairs of socks, hats, scarves, shawls, mittens, etc. and have lots more yarn waiting to be made into something fabulous!<br /><br />Knitting relaxes me, really, and I need to do a little bit everyday. I like to challenge myself with more difficult patterns and beautiful, exotic yarns, but very now and then a plain old straight sock pattern is just what the Knitting goddess ordered!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16458167760921311439noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23052636.post-8618190914729417592010-04-20T22:41:00.003-04:002010-04-20T22:43:31.807-04:00THE photo...<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/S85l_tucgoI/AAAAAAAAAaE/c8G7T_mvqEo/s1600/071.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/S85l_tucgoI/AAAAAAAAAaE/c8G7T_mvqEo/s400/071.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462415543327556226" /></a><br /><br />Just love this. The love, the innocence, the emotion of having her daddy home, finally. This was not posed, just captured. Lucky me.<br />Love this, love these people.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16458167760921311439noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23052636.post-66672064693705731162009-12-28T16:41:00.008-05:002009-12-29T11:59:02.089-05:00Happy Holi-daze!<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/SzkptfnfIWI/AAAAAAAAAXM/aDapdz4UgBQ/s1600-h/012.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/SzkptfnfIWI/AAAAAAAAAXM/aDapdz4UgBQ/s320/012.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420409488075071842" /></a>Well, I think the family and I have written, starred in, and produced our own version of "Surviving Christmas" this year and all have survived intact. Not that anything usually goes wrong around the holidays but with my barely functioning brain cells on overload and high-alert during these weeks they just never know when I may either lock myself in the bedroom crying or run screaming from the house, never to return.<br /><br />Neither event took place this year although it was quite touch-and-go during the "do-I-or-don't-I-buy-a-fake-tree-before-or-after-Christmas-and-I-am-obsessing-wayyyyy-to-much-over-this" weekend. Which was ultimately solved by buying a beautful fake tree that we will enjoy for years to come without mopping up spilled water, then forgetting to water the tree resulting in vacuuming a bizillion needles for the next six months. Whew, it was a close one, though.<br /><br />Christmas has come and gone and in retrospect it was a wonderful day. We spent the day at home while various family and friends visited and we ate, played, and enjoyed a great day together. <br /><br />Now all that's left of the celebrations is New Years. It's only a few days away but I can already hear 2010 banging on my front door yelling "I'm here bitch, and I've got some 'Alli' and a work-out dvd! Get your fat ass off the couch!" Is it too late to turn off the lights and hide behind the door?<br /><br /><br />Harley ate her present.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/Szkr4ssjiNI/AAAAAAAAAXk/8Xk7DZzpm-A/s1600-h/021.JPG"><img style="float:center; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/Szkr4ssjiNI/AAAAAAAAAXk/8Xk7DZzpm-A/s320/021.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420411879587809490" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/Szkr4NZFUpI/AAAAAAAAAXc/oZXx3hxq2VQ/s1600-h/020.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/Szkr4NZFUpI/AAAAAAAAAXc/oZXx3hxq2VQ/s320/020.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420411871184638610" /></a>Kathleen loves her laptop.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/Szkr3qgbogI/AAAAAAAAAXU/-AsHk0I2Cok/s1600-h/017.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/Szkr3qgbogI/AAAAAAAAAXU/-AsHk0I2Cok/s320/017.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420411861820219906" /></a><br /><br />Shelby asked for, and received a camera.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/Szkr4__yCkI/AAAAAAAAAXs/TZK1rPkfVU4/s1600-h/022.JPG"><img style="float:center; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/Szkr4__yCkI/AAAAAAAAAXs/TZK1rPkfVU4/s320/022.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420411884768725570" /></a><br />The aftermath.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16458167760921311439noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23052636.post-7697542044084839422009-11-03T08:11:00.002-05:002009-11-03T08:16:25.658-05:00Already a loser......but moving on. November is <a href="http://www.nablopomo.com/">NaBloPoMo</a> - National Blog Posting Month, in which you strive to post to your blog every day. I've already messed that one up but since I didn't feel well last night and Kathleen had the computer for homework I'm gonna excuse myself and let it go. I'm sure you all have forgiven me already.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16458167760921311439noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23052636.post-44648258368830178962009-11-01T09:13:00.006-05:002009-11-01T09:27:30.213-05:00Fall colorsI do a lot of complaining about how much I hate to see summer end each year. A. Lot. But I guess when the time comes around I spend as much time marvelling at the beautiful colors of the leaves when fall arrives in full bloom here in my little corner of the world. Disclaimer: I still hate the fact that summer is gone, but the leaves <em>are</em> pretty. Okay.<br /><br />Shelby and I walked to the library last week and I grabbed my camera as we left the house. Here are some photos I took along the way.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/Su2ZA2Ui_6I/AAAAAAAAAWU/dshuFrQiwSc/s1600-h/009.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/Su2ZA2Ui_6I/AAAAAAAAAWU/dshuFrQiwSc/s320/009.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399139768147836834" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/Su2ZsAt1HII/AAAAAAAAAW0/Dt6JIx3DZTQ/s1600-h/007.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/Su2ZsAt1HII/AAAAAAAAAW0/Dt6JIx3DZTQ/s320/007.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399140509672610946" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/Su2Zryzek7I/AAAAAAAAAWs/KGVcwRNuiy8/s1600-h/006.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/Su2Zryzek7I/AAAAAAAAAWs/KGVcwRNuiy8/s320/006.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399140505938203570" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/Su2ZsXRvXBI/AAAAAAAAAW8/iR-yzk-kYTo/s1600-h/010.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/Su2ZsXRvXBI/AAAAAAAAAW8/iR-yzk-kYTo/s320/010.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399140515728808978" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/Su2ZrAVUjNI/AAAAAAAAAWc/0vcQSuJ0BRw/s1600-h/001.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/Su2ZrAVUjNI/AAAAAAAAAWc/0vcQSuJ0BRw/s320/001.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399140492389944530" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/Su2Z0mbcHbI/AAAAAAAAAXE/I17BEaLtvEk/s1600-h/011.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/Su2Z0mbcHbI/AAAAAAAAAXE/I17BEaLtvEk/s320/011.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399140657234976178" /></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16458167760921311439noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23052636.post-13759115842789342172009-10-25T20:24:00.014-04:002009-10-25T21:05:00.978-04:00Tha bitches at Stitches!On Saturday Misty and I went to Stitches East in Hartford. "Stitches East?? What in the world is that??" you say. "Who got stitches?? Are they okay??" Well, in fact Misty DID get stitches on Friday night trying to be freaking Martha Stewart making Halloween cookies (WHO makes cookies for halloween??), but that's not what I'm talking about.<br /><br />Stitches East is a convention for people who knit, crochet, spin...anything to do with yarn and fibers. The Connecticut Convention Center in Hartford is pretty damn big and it was just about full of vendors selling yarn and anything to do with yarn. There were classes for beginners and advanced knitters and all kinds of knitty stuff. <br /><br />I did not have anough money to buy everything I wanted at this thing, but then again, if I did buy all that I wanted, I don't think I would have the time to knit it all. I DO think I touched it all though!!<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/SuTxmR8IHjI/AAAAAAAAAVs/t2CaIRVecgE/s1600-h/022.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/SuTxmR8IHjI/AAAAAAAAAVs/t2CaIRVecgE/s400/022.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396703893449612850" /></a>I did buy (clockwise from top right) a long-coveted set of <a href="http://www.knitdenise.com/">Denise Interchangeable Knitting Needles</a>. (Love them already!) Two skeins of Stardust merino yarn that has a strand of nylon throughout that makes it shimmer, an 'orphan' skein of handpainted Ambrosia (alpaca, silk and cashmere!!!) that I got just because I loved the colors (ooohhh), and pink and blue Shui Bui mohair and merino wool yarn to make a couple of Christmas gifts. Not too bad, ya think?<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/SuTy_vcmmVI/AAAAAAAAAV0/EihE-i2DWCw/s1600-h/015.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/SuTy_vcmmVI/AAAAAAAAAV0/EihE-i2DWCw/s320/015.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396705430378813778" /></a>I also got to kit on <a href="http://big-sock.blogspot.com/">The Big Sock</a>! I saw this on the Stitches website before going and was determined to contribute. The story is on their blog but in short, someone wanted to make the biggest sock in the world and it is going around the world to different venues and a lot of people are contributing to it both by donating yarn and by knitting on it.<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/SuTzV0Gmt2I/AAAAAAAAAWE/2_pyqK8Hj_A/s1600-h/017.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/SuTzV0Gmt2I/AAAAAAAAAWE/2_pyqK8Hj_A/s320/017.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396705809585846114" /></a> It will eventually end up back in the UK to be formally accepted into the Guiness Book of World Records. There. I hope I am at least semi-accurate. After I knit a few stitches i gave my spot to another knitter and signed the log and got a pin commemorating the momentous event. Sorry, lame, I know, but I'm a sucker for stuff like this.<br /><br /><br />It was a fun day. We took our time wandering and we sat in Starbucks for a while <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/SuT0uu3sIXI/AAAAAAAAAWM/CHFGY1soNTM/s1600-h/IMG_0301w%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 225px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/SuT0uu3sIXI/AAAAAAAAAWM/CHFGY1soNTM/s320/IMG_0301w%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396707337189466482" /></a> on a funky little couch relaxing and talking to other strangers who knit. <br /><br />I am already planning on going next year and I'll wear my fabulous new shawl made from this year's yarn and maybe I can pretend I am from far away and stay in the Marriot there at the Convention Center. Maybe, just maybe...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16458167760921311439noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23052636.post-58746051530885975822009-09-08T21:27:00.013-04:002009-09-08T23:40:05.822-04:00This and that...I've had a lot to write lately but have not taken the time to sit and blog so hopefully in this teeny tiny moment of quiet I can get something accomplished. <br /><br /><strong>Veggies</strong><br /><br /><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/SqcH-5tJGDI/AAAAAAAAAVE/MMwJm1jADiw/s320/002.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379277057140791346" />Instead of planting hundreds of dollars of annuals this year I invested in vegetable plants instead. Besides the whole "going green" idea of planting and harvesting our own food, living off the land, saving money and teaching the children to rely on the Earth's bounty - I like plants and gardening. Oh okay, so it's just the plant thing but give me a break, it sounded good for a minute. I planted three types of tomatoes, green beans, cucumbers and a bunch of herbs. The tomatoes are going a bit slow. At first the plants were so puny but now they are ginormous with tons of green fruits just weighing them down. But hardly any reds to be seen.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/SqcH-VZs-TI/AAAAAAAAAU8/wcgflnq6NNo/s1600-h/001.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/SqcH-VZs-TI/AAAAAAAAAU8/wcgflnq6NNo/s320/001.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379277047395580210" /></a>This is an example of a daily harvest. The green beans don't usually make it into the house - they are garden snacks. Just wipe off the dirt and munch. And if I send Shelby out to gather (I just love sounding like Caroline Ingalls tonight.) the tomatoes don't even make it into the house. I just may have to grab a bunch of green tomatoes off the vines and let them ripen on the sun porch. <br /><br /><strong>One LESS remaining brain cell...</strong><br /><br />I had to get up at the crack of dawn this past Saturday to have an MRI on my brain. I hear you laughing. Yes, there IS a brain in there. It is prone to migraines and tripping off-line occasionally, but it is still nestled safely within the confines of my skull. Here's proof. <br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/SqcWlxSfyNI/AAAAAAAAAVM/neuXBwpbNnY/s1600-h/brain.bmp13.bmp"><img style="float:right; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 256px; height: 256px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/SqcWlxSfyNI/AAAAAAAAAVM/neuXBwpbNnY/s320/brain.bmp13.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379293118059235538" /></a> <br />There's no reason for the MRI scan other than the fact that the last scan I had was a CAT scan about ten years ago; well, that and the fact that <em>I, personally, </em>am questioning it's existence lately. I've been suffering from M.A.J.O.R. anxiety lately and I didn't know if the fact that I am getting close to the age my mom was when she passed away (from a brain tumor no less) is getting to me or what so we just wanted to eliminate what could be one source of my recent (and hopefully, temporary) insanity. <br /><br />So on Saturday I am a bit nervous about this MRI thing since I can be just a little claustrophobic at times, inopportune times mostly. They had asked if I needed to be sedated but they don't sedate anyone on Saturdays - hello...someone needs a day off, I guess. I had one out-of-body experience right when she put me into the machine when I pushed the button and INSISTED on being let out. That wonderful tech let me out for a minute, talked me down off the ledge and for the remainder of the MRI I was blissfully lounging on a beach in Bermuda. Or maybe that was my broken brain cells playing games with me...<br /><br /><strong>Bookstores and Blogging...</strong><br /><br />Also on Saturday Misty and I stopped in at Borders (I picked her up and took her to EB to get her house key after her son locked her out and for those of you familiar with the area, Borders is not too far out of the way - well, maybe 6 or so miles, but I digress...). As Misty and I are apt to do when we are in public we act accordingly and appropriately and like perfectly well-behaved adults who have been in public before, <strong><em>NOT</em></strong> and we ended up making quite a scene in the knitting/sewing/craft book aisle. The two xanax I had taken before my MRI had FINALLY taken effect and I needed to sit - on the floor - and that got me laughing and Misty snidely throwing comments out of the corner of her mouth and pretending she didn't know me. After a particularly funny comment about my "magnetically-shaken brain syndrome" I said I needed to remember to blog about, we apologized to the nice woman standing next to us who was obviously just trying to find a book and get out to enjoy the nice day. Come to find out, she is a blogger too and has introduced me to her blogosphere of friends through her blog <a href="http://lowdownfromlois.blogspot.com/">here</a>. Please stop on over, check out her blogs and leave a comment for me.<br /><br />Well, I think that is it for now. I have to hit the hay as I have a job I have to get up for in the morning. Wouldn't want to sleep in and miss it, would I?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16458167760921311439noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23052636.post-27506080567681749042009-08-27T14:58:00.002-04:002009-08-27T15:35:11.395-04:00You need a license to catch a fish......to drive a car, to sell real estate, to practice medicine, to sell liquor, blah, blah, you get the idea. But you <em>do not</em> need a license to have a baby and raise that child. Any idiot can do that. And most do. <br /><br />Case in point, the woman I saw today at the lake on the Subase. She walked onto the sand carrying the usual paraphernalia: beach bag, blanket, toys, and a car seat/baby carrier. A young man/teen was accompanying her holding the hand of who I can assume was her son, a very small child, probably 2-ish. Nothing out of the ordinary yet. The young man took the little boy into the water and they played while the woman watched from the shore. The baby stayed in the car seat. In the sun. The woman went into the water and swam. The baby stayed in the car seat. In the sun.<br /><br />Finally she took the baby from the seat. This little one could not have even been a month old. She was so tiny, with little chicken legs waving. The mom held her in one arm while she sprayed her, front and back, with sunscreen. Then rubbed some on her little face. I was in shock, and commented so all within earshot could hear me. No one else seemed to care or notice.<br /><br />Once "mom" deemed her child was safe from the sun, she took her into the chlorinated lake, splashed her around, dunked her once or twice (now into the sunscreen-slick surrounding them), and then put her back into the car seat. She didn't rinse her off, change the chlorine-soaked diaper, or dry her. I just stared. I wanted to approach her, and I know I should've - I am ashamed I didn't - but I could predict the outcome and was not up for a confrontation. In the mood I have been in I am sure I would be writing this from jail.<br /><br />I know this mom was not beating her children and it could have been worse, perhaps she does not know any better, and it was obvious she loves her kids. My only hope is that these two children grow up to be healthy well-adjusted adults despite their naive or incompetent mother. I hope it is the former and she learns right from wrong soon.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16458167760921311439noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23052636.post-9641175948158810762009-08-07T11:00:00.003-04:002009-08-07T11:11:15.502-04:00Paper and Yarn and Patterns, oh my!<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/SnxDzYurjGI/AAAAAAAAAUk/FmVGTMhwqD8/s1600-h/009.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/SnxDzYurjGI/AAAAAAAAAUk/FmVGTMhwqD8/s320/009.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367239406009420898" /></a>Spent Saturday buying myself a little happy! :) Misty and I went to Old Saybrook to our favorite yarn shop and had a little fun feeling up the yarn and deciding what we just could not live without. I bought some Noro sock yarn on sale, some more sock yarn in variegated blues that I hope to make into a shawl, and some Flat Feet Yarn! I have wanted that for a long time and am so excited to get started on that. Flat Feet yarn is sock yarn that has been knitted into a flat rectangular panel and then dyed. To knit socks from it you knit as you unwind from one end and the dyed pattern knits into a random pattern in your socks. Each flat makes a unique pair of socks - so exciting! (I know, lame to you non-knitters, but that's the extent of my happiness lately so give me a break, okay?)<br /><br />We also went to a new-to-us scrapbooking store in Clinton and browsed for a while. Well, I can hold out for a long time until I find that one piece of paper I have to have and then it's all downhill from there. All in all I did okay, just $13.00 so I am proud of myself. But not proud that I will add this bag of paper to the previous bags in the scrap area just waiting to be used! I just need to get down there but it's not on the top of my list right now. What is? knitting.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16458167760921311439noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23052636.post-55063427136598561672009-07-16T16:21:00.005-04:002009-07-16T17:31:35.763-04:00Okay, okay.......so I said I would be updating regularly showing my progress completing my many creative projects. Well, yeah, um...so it's been like this - I have started knitting a sweater but the gauge was off so I had to start over. I have not been scrapbooking nor painting nor making jewelry. I have been taking TONS and TONS of photos off the old desktop (which takes about 20 tries to finally boot up) so that's been taking up some of my time. I will be buying an external hard drive to back up those photos and the 1500 or so I have on this laptop. Then I will begin sending them to be printed. I actually feel safer with them here in boxes than on the hard drives.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/Sl-asdh1VGI/AAAAAAAAAUc/1VRHh8co960/s1600-h/065.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/Sl-asdh1VGI/AAAAAAAAAUc/1VRHh8co960/s320/065.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359172170225636450" /></a>Anyway, here is a preview of the sweater I am knitting. This pic is actually of the one I had to rip out, but I haven't gotten to the pattern on the new version and that's no fun to look at. The color is a little off - it's more of a blue-green - and the yarn is a super soft "eco-blend" of cotton and acrylic. Knitting has not been at the top of my list of things to do lately but I want to get back to this before I totally lose interest.<br /><br />So, to the few of you who read this blog, expect to see some creative progress posted soon, or at least a few more excuses why that's just not happening 'round here.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16458167760921311439noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23052636.post-42917207662697251382009-06-08T20:23:00.008-04:002009-06-11T22:03:55.852-04:00An (un)creative moment in time<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/Si2teUdF-PI/AAAAAAAAAT8/-G_FDdR-fW8/s1600-h/004.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/Si2teUdF-PI/AAAAAAAAAT8/-G_FDdR-fW8/s200/004.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345119069157062898" /></a>I am a creative person. I not only 'like' to create, but I NEED to. It keeps me sane, relaxed and happy. If I do not take the time to knit, paint, scrapbook - anything creative, I get tense. And grumpy.<br /><br />Well, lately I am feeling very grumpy. And one reason I am grumpy is it's all my fault - nobody keeps me from being creative, it's all me. <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/Si2vUePaXaI/AAAAAAAAAUE/kQgbB1aZyxw/s1600-h/003.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/Si2vUePaXaI/AAAAAAAAAUE/kQgbB1aZyxw/s200/003.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345121099008597410" /></a><br /><br />I just don't take the time to do those things. I feel I need to have my 'work' done before I can 'play.' Therefore I have paintings half-finished, baskets of yarn waiting to be made into socks and scarves, and tons (literally, TONS) of pictures to be put into scrapbooks.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/Si2v7HNKSsI/AAAAAAAAAUM/_PSEI-ot020/s1600-h/scrapshare+001.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 99px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6tsuGAzRfY/Si2v7HNKSsI/AAAAAAAAAUM/_PSEI-ot020/s200/scrapshare+001.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345121762840038082" /></a>Now, you may think: "Denise, the time you are wasting on the computer blogging about being <em>un-creative </em>could be better spent being...uh...<strong>creative</strong>!" Yeah, well, I <em>know</em> that. I really do. <br /><br />So I am making the commitment to blog weekly about something I have created. A half-knit sock, a few pages scrapped, a brush stroke here and there. Promise.<br /><br />Stay tuned. And please feel free to send an email or comment <em>'kick in the ass' </em>to keep me focused.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16458167760921311439noreply@blogger.com1