Update on "Roughing It"

I picked her up at 5pm on Friday. She saw me and started crying. She was sunburned, and dusty, and tired... and she cried. And then she was OK, she just had a lot of emotions built up.

There were things she loved about camp: Archery, Horseback riding, the "Queen and Fairy Godmother" game, their bunk mate Francis (who is one of 12 children, and DD1 thought she was hilarious), songs and s'mores, cookout breakfast the last morning, volleyball, four of her counselors - especially Kiwi, her counselor from New Zealand.

There were things she didn't love about camp: The latrines, showering in semi-privacy, the ants that live in the tent's wooden plank floor, the moths that live in the top of the tent, she missed us a lot (perhaps even more than we missed her if that is possible), and that her flashlight batteries which were brand new died the first night.

There are things I wish I had pictures of: Her sitting on the wooden steps to the tent the morning they all woke up at 4am and were waiting for the sun to come up, her on her horse - who she now thinks of as a life long friend, her eating chocolate chip pancakes that last morning - famished and exhausted and disheveled.

She'll start telling us a story, then skip crucial details or reference things I have no clue about, and when she finishes her story we're totally confused. I don't know at what age it sinks in to kids that you are TRULY a separate person from your parents, but from the way she talks I know that DD1 is still very firmly in the subconscious mind set that I simply "know" everything about her life. That we automatically just "know" what has happened to her. She hasn't yet figured out that I'm really not omnipotent, that there are vast portions of her life that I sort of don't have a clue about... which is one of those things about parenting that surprises me. I didn't know it would be like that, before I was a mom. Becoming a mom has taught me so much, especially how much I didn't know before.

Overall? The good outweighed the bad, and camp was good. For both of us.

********

At check-in:


Finding their tent area on the map:

With her BCF (Best Camping Friend):

Her actual cot:

Right before going home:

My daughter... roughing it?

Just got back from dropping DD1 off at camp. Girl Scout Camp, seems innocent enough right? Where they sleep in bunk beds in cozy cabins with a bathroom down the hall. Even the "indoorsy" type of girl can handle Girl Scout Camp - it's hardly "rustic". Totally do-able for my DD1, who didn't even remotely inherit the love-of-the-outdoors gene from her daddy.

Yea, that's what I thought too.

Turns out when you are an "older" girl (4th grade on upwards), it's not so much a "cabin camping" experience as it is a "backwoods camping" experience.

Behold where my daughter, who really doesn't even like to sleep with the window open, will be laying her head down tonight:



...and here is a glimpse of the luxurious bathroom accommodations she'll obviously be sharing with a fellow camper - since that looks like a two seater to me:



...and where will she be washing her hands after using the "biffy", as they call it? Where will she be brushing her teeth? Funny you should ask... because here is the lovely vanity area:

The mess hall, shower, nurse, craft cabin are all (I kid you not) about 1/2 a mile down a steep, winding hill. It was a hike to get up that hill to the cabins, and she gets to do that walk several times in the few days. (We pick her up at 5pm on Friday.)

And I thought her biggest hurdle regarding this camping trip was going to be her morbid fear of insects. Boy, will that be low on her list!

She's back Friday, and she's an all or nothing girl - she'll either LOVE it, or HATE it. I'll let you know!

What a difference a school year makes!

First day - Last day

School year 2009/2010

Look what happens when you don't stop to notice them growing up! I can't believe the year is over - there were times I thought it would never end... and here we are again: POOL SEASON!

The ghost of SMA on the move?

I have to wonder if the former SMA is, or has recently been, in Poland? Lots of Polish hits to my May 22, 2009 post (the one that gets hundreds of hits weekly).

I've often contemplated removing that post... but it's just so interesting to me that it draws so many hits. I like seeing what countries end up there.

Anyway, happy Saturday.

We interrupt this blog...

...for a very important announcement.

Before I go scrub the bathrooms I want to note that I, at this very moment, have ten perfect fingernails. They are all the same long length (they would make my old piano teacher snarl), and they look fabulous. I'm thinking they haven't looked like this since our wedding day.

I fear this afternoon I will not be able to make this statement, so I'd like to mark this moment in time. If we make it through unscathed I think a celebratory manicure tomorrow morning might be in order.

May 21st, 11:11am. Best nails I've (maybe) ever had.

You may now continue with your (hopefully less shallow and vain) day.

Gleek post

Is it just me, or did Glee disappoint last night?

The whole thing felt like it should have been advertised as, "A very special episode of Blossom." Perhaps, "an episode your family can't afford to miss."

Blech.

I watch Glee for its teen angst, its camp, its superb writing and over developed characters. I do not watch Glee for a morality lesson. I really don't want Glee to be a show I want to start watching with my kids, because they can get something out of it. (I sort of like having a semi-trashy show that my kids cannot share. Yes, it's selfish. I own that.)

Glee? Strike One.

How did I NOT see this coming?

Because, after having (nearly) two glorious weeks of relatively carefree sinuses, I woke up today with pressure behind my face, the teeth on the left side of my head aching, and my eyes all gooey and icky. In other words? Here we go again.

I've decided that my sinuses are like three year old toddlers - who for reasons unknown will get mad and throw a tantrum. They've decided to stage one today, and I'm pretty sure they've invited all of their little angry sinus friends to come join in the fun.

I'm going to mention now that I've been having sinus problems on and off now since NOVEMBER. My doctor thinks the initial sinus problems are brought on by allergies (which have never been a huge problem for me before, certainly nothing a little Zyrtec couldn't cure), and are made worse in reaction to viruses. Do we know what I'm allergic to? Nope. Could be as simple as dust (not likely, would have probably known before now, I mean really. Have you seen my house?), could be a chemical in the new-ish flooring (but that should be a more constant problem, not the peek-a-boo situation they've got going in there), could be something strange the wind blew in - since we've had a relatively dry winter here, that is most likely the cause. However, now the sinus cavities are so very sensitive that every little virus is running for them as if they are the last save haven on Earth.

So I wake up today with the sinuses all in an uproar and ready to cause harm. Coincidentally, today is Volunteer Day with the first graders.

First graders. Possibly the least clean and most germ ridden of all elementary school children with the exception of kindergartners. (I maintain my position that kindys could wipe out entire populations, and are the perfect distribution system for biological weapons of mass destruction what with their secretious habits putting even slugs to shame.) Volunteering with the first graders today leaves only one question up for grabs during my doctor visit next week:
Viral or Bacterial?

Wish me luck.

Can't seem to fall to sleep tonight...

April 27th is the day we lost my mom. In the wee hours of the morning two years ago she passed on while my oldest brother held her hand.

It still seems wrong that she isn't here anymore. I can still hear her voice, especially that tone she'd use when she left a message and I hadn't talked to her for a week or so. "Dodi, it's mom. I need you to call when you get this message."

She'd call when the baby birds in the birdhouse hatched, and the girls needed to come over to see them.

She'd call when she spotted an obituary for someone they knew years ago, someone I didn't know:
"Honey, I hate to tell you this, but Mrs. So&So passed away."
"Mom I don't know who that is." (At which point I'm sure I rolled my eyes.)
"Sure you do, she was a neighbor of ours when we first got married, they came out to the house here for dinner when you were about 5. Remember, she had that straw hat?" (This conversation would continue until I said something about remembering her, which I almost never did.)

She'd call when a product she knew I used was on sale.

She called when the neighbors left their sprinklers on too long.

She'd call mostly to check on her girls - all three of us. Because even when I was up to my eyeballs in laundry or stress and emotion, or general "too busy"ness, and she'd let me know she was there. Always there. Even when I was mad at her or she was mad at me... she was always there.

And then she wasn't there anymore.
And I still can't imagine a world without her - even though that is the world that I live in.


Mom... I love you, and I miss you!

She's a tricky one...

Oldest daughter had to clean the bathroom as a punishment. (Toothpaste mysteriously exploded again. Always with the toothpaste! It's like her "signature move" or something.) Well, before she even got started cleaning she turned to me to ask, "Hey, maybe you could pay me for this extra chore?"

Somehow I think she's missing the point of the word PUNISHMENT.

Because 17 is all grown up?

What 17 year old, who was in the news in December for sporting a NEW TATTOO, is now moving in to her own 4000 sq foot house?

Did you say Miley Cyrus? (Who, let me say again is SEVENTEEN.)

Ding ding ding ding - RIGHT! Miley has moved in to her new mansion down the street from her parents recently, and I'm guessing we're all agreed that this is a fabulous idea.

Because at 17 she shouldn't be in high school. (You never hear about her being schooled at all.)

Because at 17 she should be allowed to do whatever in the world makes her happiest without all that pesky adult supervision. (Have you SEEN her 20 year old boyfriend? He's hot.)

Because she's MATURE, at 17, and responsible enough to live on her own.
By herself.
Alone.

Riiiight.

I'm planning that my kid is still going to be turning her cell phone over to mom and dad at 10pm when she is 17 so she doesn't text with her friends all night long (a mom can dream of this sort of life can't she?)... but I'm guessing Miley's parents aren't worried about that kind of stuff. At this point I think we can all agree that all night text sessions are the LEAST of their worries.

It's Hollywood after all... what could possibly go wrong?

Freaky Friday

I'm a GLEEk

It's baaaaaaccccckkkkk!

Did you see Glee last night? (If not - why not? How can you NOT be watching this show?) The show really is perfection for someone like me. Who digs her entertainment just a little bit judgy, a lot campy, able to mock itself, with good storylines, and finely crafted characters. The cheerleading coach is one of the most hilarious characters ever written - she's mean. Mean like you'd never get to be in real life. Mean like, "Save me a spot next to you in hell" mean. And while you hate her for it, you ADORE her for it. Writing for that character has to be a career high for that writing staff.

Glee has it all. The bitchy cheerleaders, the arrogant jocks, the pitiful geeks - and all so completely overdone that it's unparalleled in it's excellence.

CLICK HERE IF YOU NEED VIDEO PROOF

...and HERE IF YOU NEED MORE PROOF

Glee is hilariously creative. If you mixed "Scrubs" with "Fame", stirred in some skits from "Saturday Night Live", and then threw in a little "Rocky Horror Picture Show"? You would start to see something that might resemble Glee on one of it's weaker days.

It's just that good.

And I? Am a GLEEk.
If they had a Glee-Con? I'd totally go.

Blowin in the Wind

Wow, it's windy out there today. The local news webpage said today would be "breezy at times." Really? Because wind gusts upwards of 45mph feel more than "breezy" to me.

And to our house.

Did you feel the wind last night? Because you didn't have to be outside to feel it. The wind gusts hitting the back of our house last night howled around the corners, and we could feel the house actually moving back and forth. It was loud, and it was powerful.

The wind was so powerful it carried my seven year old from her bed to mine - where it placed her down so gently that I didn't even know she was there until she was already fast asleep again. When I hugged her in tight, I held her and listened to the wind outside - and I was so glad it had carried her in to me.

(...at which point I was also so very glad of our decision 10 years ago to buy a king sized bed!)

Jen Lancaster

Jen Lancaster is by far one of my favorite "new" authors. I've been a fan since "Snarkywood", follow her blog, and own all 4 of her books. She has a new book coming out soon, "My Fair Lazy," and now she's a NEWSPAPER COLUMNIST!!! (Not in our newspaper, of course, which is where the internet comes in super handy.)

I am sitting on like 5 blog entries that aren't good enough to publish - because now I've over thought them and they're not at all spontaneous. So, until I get my act together and become spontaneous (Really? Is that something you can plan?) I give you:

Humor Hotel
Don't Blame Mii, Japan
by Jen Lancaster

(...you can thank me in the comments.)
(I feel like such a proud fan!)

Man Oh Man, I'm ready for SUMMER!

I'm done with Winter. Bring on the warmth of SUMMER!

45

45 years ago we lived in a different world.

45 years ago our nation was at an impasse in its struggle for civil rights.
45 years ago our country entered into a war in Vietnam, a fight they would lose 10 years later.
45 years ago protesters were burning their draft cards, "My Fair Lady" won a Best Picture Oscar, Malcolm X was assassinated, Charlie Brown was on the cover of TIME magazine, and Canada unveiled a new flag.

45 years ago, a disk drive for an IBM 360 was the size of a washing machine, and held about 10 megabytes.

If a couple was married 45 years ago, they would now be celebrating their Sapphire anniversary.

It is estimated that 45 years ago, 3.3 billion people were living on this planet.

45 years ago it was 1965. The Rolling Stones had their first #1 hit, the Beatles played Shea stadium, the mini skirt was introduced, and the world was introduced to Spaghetti-O's.

Some of our favorite entertainers were born in 1965:
Julia Ormond
Kristin Davis
Dr. Dre (I know...)
Lawrence Llewelyn-Bowen
Sarah Jessica Parker
Robert Downey Jr.
Linda Evangelista
Brooke Shields
J.K. Rowling (not technically an entertainer... but V.I.P. nonetheless)

45 years ago, February 13, 1965 fell on a Saturday.
I know that because it was the day I was born. My kids were both born on Saturdays, like me, which I think is pretty cool.

Today I am 45.
It took me my whole life to get here, and it seems like in the blink of an eye I am 45 years old. And the old cliche is true... it is the first day of the rest of my life.

Wasting all my best stuff on Facebook

I've neglected my blog. I know it, you know it. People don't stop by here very often anymore, in case you count that May 2009 entry... which I don't. I tend to put snippets of my day up on Facebook now, not taking the time to really write things down. But today is good, today is one of those days you want to remember. Well, twenty minutes of today was so special I know it's worth remembering - and lets be honest, sometimes you don't get twenty minutes in a whole week that are lovely and special.

Today my darling daughter, the younger one, is home sick. She's in first grade... and today she is missing her Valentines Day party at school. She's sad, but she really doesn't feel good at all. Husband was up with her lots last night, and she's got a pretty bad cold.

She announced a bit earlier that she was hungry. I asked her what sounded good to her, and she couldn't think of anything. So I started sharing some ideas. Peanut butter crackers? No. Jelly sandwich? No. Soup? No. Jello? (pause) No. (Ahhh, I'm getting warm.) Ice cream? (pause) "Can I really have that?"

She's missing her school party - which is a big deal in first grade. Know what you do when that happens and the only thing that sounds good to her for lunch is ice cream?

You give it to her.

Know what you do next?

You go get yourself a bowl and join her.

You watch her eyes get big, and you make her giggle about how naughty this is - how wonderful to get to do something so out of the ordinary. You both laugh about how this is the silliest, craziest lunch in the whole world!

And then you smile, and you file this one away forever.

I wish...

I SO wish I had written this...


January 25, 2010
Dis This

Dear Neighborhood Thugs,

Just so you know, flashing gang signs while wearing mittens makes you come across as less of "a stone cold killer" and more like "a sock-puppet performance artist."

Please consider investing in a pair of gloves or waiting until spring to represent.

Best,

Jen

Do you ever read her blog? You should. You really should.

Comment Moderation

Well, I'm sad. I had to turn on the "Moderate Comments" button - seems I'm a spam target. Not new posts, but quite a few of my older posts have icky sex link comments attached to them now. So, for a while at least, I'm going to have to moderate all comments. If it only keeps happening to the older posts I'll change the moderation to any post older than 14 days.

Sorry about this - I guess it was bound to happen eventually.

:)

Robert Downey Jr. is a sexy beast...

I've stated in on Facebook - which is like declaring to the world that I swear my allegiance to his sexiness. But you know why? Not just because he's SO good looking, but watch this speech. This is a fun guy - Really Fun - DANGEROUSLY fun... would-be-awesome-to-be-his-wife-fun.

Best Golden Globe Acceptance Speech EVER click here.

Robert Downey Jr. is a sexy beast.

Books vs. Movies

The book is always better, right?

Not really. I mean, as a rule - yes... the book is generally better than the movie. At least when the story is similar. Sometimes you wonder, other than the topic, is it the same story? Did the screenwriter bother to read the book?

Julie and Julia? Movie was better. In fact, it wasn't even really the same story at all - aside from the main character cooking her way through the 524 recipes in 365 days, and a few anecdotes to tie it all together. The Julie Powell in the book is a very different Julie Powell than we see in the movie. In the movie we love her. She is darling, kind of a goody two shoes, and is usually pretty excited about her project. We want her to triumph. In the book we hear about how there is cat hair all over her kitchen, she ends up with maggots under her dish draining board, she fails at the recipes as often as she succeeds, and she's a lot more whiny than the book version. I'm sure the book version is closer to the truth. Plus? Can you picture the movie version of Julie dropping the F-bomb very often? The book version of Julie swears like a sailor - she's like me, totally out of control as to what comes out of her mouth at times. I get the feeling that if the book version of Julie met the movie version of Julie they wouldn't get on very well, the book version would talk about her behind her back. That said, I think I'd like to go find the blog and read through it. I'm guessing a version a lot closer to the book version resides there, but it will be interesting to find out. Plus, the movie was half Julia and Paul Child... a charming love story that I suspect was almost as glossed over as the "real" Julie Powell was, but charming nonetheless. I think the movie was better, but keep in mind I saw the movie first. I saw the movie when it was in theatres, and I didn't read the book until this weekend. I wonder what my feelings would have been if 'd read the book before seeing the movie?

Anyway, I'm passing the book on to my neighbor (Mrs. Kravitz) because I saw the movie with her. I want to see what she thinks. I think the stories were so very different - aside from the main premise - I'm wondering where the idealized version of Julie Powell came from? However, I like her better.

I like a little gloss to cover up the rougher edges I suppose.

But, I believe that you always walk away from a book with something. In this case? The something has nothing really to do with Julie OR Julia. It is the quote, "All things in moderation, including moderation." She attributes the quote to Jacques Pepin, the on the Internet it states that the author is Mark Twain. Either way? It's a good message.

Take your diamonds, I like pearls

Well, not completely true - I do like diamonds! However, I LOVE pearls. I think they are gorgeous. My wedding dress was scattered with sewn on (fake) pearls, and it was so pretty. My brother, TB, gave me a pair of pearl earrings when I was a teenager - I have no idea where they are today, but I loved them and wore them a lot. I also found a very wee baby pearl in a smoked oyster once. DD1 and I marveled over it, and I have it in my jewelry box. She loves to tell the story.

After my mom passed away (2 years ago this Spring) I received the pearls that Dad gave her on their very first Valentine's Day together. I had loved them since I was a little girl - so much that Mom and Dad gave me my own string of pearls when I graduated from college. I love both sets, and will pass them down to my girls someday.

The cost of real pearls is high. (By "real" I mean saltwater cultured pearls - the cultured pearls are almost always perfectly round because you can control the shape of the irritant that seeds the pearl to begin with - and saltwater pearls have a beautiful lustre. Did you really need this information that I find so fascinating?) Thus, freshwater pearls are more popular. Still beautiful, and more readily available.

My birthday is coming up... I'd love to see a set of these in a box for my gift! I've never owned black pearls before - aren't they gorgeous! (They are freshwater pearls.) The site where I found those earrings is full of beautiful pearl jewelry... and I would have LOVED it in my 20's - when it was all about me me me, and pearls could be worn every day without regard to children grabbing them, household cleaners splashing on them, or general impracticality. But someday my friends I will be the older lady whose signature look includes a double strand of pearls, and expensive shoes. Like Barbara Bush - but with better hair!

My husband's fear

Husband and DD1 were having a conversation about a month ago, while folding laundry, about reincarnation.

DD1: "I think I'd like to come back as a (female) deer."

Husband: "Oh? Why is that?" (Thinking she was going to make some profound statement about the freedom of being a deer, or recognizing something wonderful that only a nine year old can still see in wonder...)

DD1: "Well, you know how the male deer fight over the does? I think that would be pretty cool."

When my husband tells this story, this is where his palm hits his forehead as he exclaims, "Oh no, please tell me I'm not raising 'that girl'."

Oh, to be the father of a daughter. Completely different worries. He's been the teen aged boy that girls manipulated and played with... he's been on the other side of heartbreak. The side I can't see or ever know about. The boy side. I've had a few big heart breaks in my life - but I've never seen his side of that dance.

This parenthood thing? More every year I marvel at it and exponentially add to the statement, "This? Is going to be an interesting ride."

Yesterday...

DD2 didn't walk until she was almost two years old. She has had gross motor delays her whole life, which are complicated by some sensory issues. It's been tough as a mom to watch her struggle, watch her be scared to walk down steps, watch her question her abilities, and to watch her fall, and fall, and fall... breaking her arm, visiting the ER for scary head crashes, having my heart skip a beat every time she trips hoping she won't get hurt again.

Yesterday at after school pick up she yelled over to me, "Mom, wanna see how fast I can run?"

And right then my daughter took off and ran down a hill. Not a gently sloping hill, a hill that would make a pretty good sledding hill. She pounded down that hill with confidence, long strides, and good speed.

She didn't hesitate.
She didn't stop to think about it.
She just ran. Like it had never been a problem.

And when she turned around and smiled at me from the bottom of the hill my heart skipped a beat... but for an entirely different reason.

Heeerrree's JOHNNNY!

(OK, you have to be old enough to remember Johnny Carson on the Tonight Show for that to be relevent.)

Date Night

Husband has been out of town all week, so we had a Date Night last night. (Conveniently, Husband also has a ticket package for DU Hockey - so we had tickets for Saturday night's game.) I wasn't sure it was all going to work out, because our regular babysitter was booked. However, I have a friend in our neighborhood with a 15 year old daughter! She came through for us and it all worked out. Date Night was a go.

So we decide on Sushi Den. (Yum. Actually? Double Yum.) They don't take reservations for two, but we were there early enough that we had no problem getting a table. Husband even sat on the same side of the table with me, so we could people watch and whisper (that wasn't why he sat next to me, just a really good by product of the decision). Directly across from us was the poor couple we concentrated on for our people watching of the evening. They had already eaten when we saw them... I think. They were engrossed in their drinks by the time we noticed them. Husband said, "We have a first date situation right over there" and indicated the direction with his sake cup. I whip my head around to check it out, and we watch them for a few minutes. "Correction," I said, "THAT is a second or third date... might be the crucial 'wanna go back to my place' date?" He was leaning forward, asking her something and teasing her. She was leaning back, being coy and shaking her head while smiling. Husband agreed, and we noticed she was very drunk for 6:15pm. We kept an eye on things, glancing over every once in a while during our conversation and dinner to see how they were doing. "I wonder if she'll give up the goods tonight?" was my question. The laughing response was, "If she doesn't get sick first, she's looking like that might be a possibility."

Sometime in the middle of our sushi rolls, we both happened to look up at them at the same time, and he was trying to feed her some dessert while reaching for her hand. She's all demure, but smiling. Husband looked at me and said, "There it is, the full court press!" He's a guy, he knows. I laughed.

(The couple left shortly after. Sadly we'll never know how the love story panned out. As it was so early and she was already so drunk... my guess is no. Maybe another night, but not last night. They were quickly replaced at the table with two couples out for an evening without the kids. Not nearly so much fun to speculate over, as their stories were probably remarkably similar to ours.)

After dinner we saw DU play CC over at Magness. It was an awesome game, and there were fun people around us. Lots of cheering, some good "boo"ing over the officiating, great plays, even a fight at the very end. So much fun.

I forget how much fun my husband can be, how much I enjoy his company, how we make each other laugh. I forget until Date Night. Then I remember, and I smile.

SMA Friday

Ahhh, the young SMA... le sigh.

Seven

Today you turn seven. Holy cow - how on earth did that happen?

Seven is being so excited about a specific wish that you can't contain yourself.
Seven is sassy - finding that "no" is worth a try, and slamming your door when your sister gets in your face.
Seven is smiles and giggles and holding hands with a best friend named Ruthie.
Seven is first grade and confidence and finding out that you ARE a good reader, even if you don't love books.
Seven is happiness, because you still believe in the good.
Seven is Minnie Mouse - who you love and is your dear friend. (You? Have the pictures to prove it!)
Seven is being the little sister - and realizing now that you will always be the little sister. Seven doesn't love that very much.
Seven is knowing in your heart that Santa is going to deliver the Zhu Zhu pet and play set that you want more than any other present for Christmas.
Seven is assuring your mom that you will still be her baby, that the end of Six won't ruin this place you have in my heart.
Seven is happiest snuggled up to her daddy watching cartoons.

I love you at Seven even more than I loved you at One, Two, Three, Four, Five, and Six. How is that possible? I love you more each and every day. You are our Peach. You are our Baby. You are the humor, the thoughtfulness, the quiet, the silly, the wonderful, and the beautiful that completes our family.

Today you are Seven.

There was a get together at our house this week...

A house full of kids, Drama (not the kind you'd expect from my family - the kind where my husband notices that the pot he's already poured the oil in for the deep frying of the turkeys is split), happiness at seeing out of town relatives, tension (yes, the kind you'd expect), togetherness, avoidance, "Who wants more wine?", eye rolling, teasing, sarcasm, "Can I get anyone another beer?", laughter, being all in the same room for the blessing (since my mom passed this seems to have worked itself out... in the 'olden days' dad started the blessing while mom was still in the kitchen dishing up the gravy), the men all hanging out outside to supervise Husband while he fried up those birds (it was a beautiful day), "Who wants Baileys in their coffee?", compliments on our home improvements... it all went off without any major hitches once the new cooking pot was procured from Walmart (LAST one on the shelf).

In a nutshell? Thanksgiving.

Next week...

I'm back to blogging. (It's my Thanksgiving Resolution - because New Years just doesn't seem to do it for me.) I'm going to post about our home improvements next week. Can't wait to show you how it's going!

Happy Thanksgiving to my friends and family, and to those 50+ random people who (every single day) click on the May 2009 post of Hugh and his wife.* Most of you in the latter group are European - so I'm not sure that my wishing you a happy day on what is exclusively an American holiday is appropriate. However, since you never see anything on my blog except that one post? I'm not too worried.

*Seriously, it's STILL going on. Some days it's only 20 or so people, sometimes 75 foreigners come looking for Hugh and Deb. I think the highest one day number of people that landed on that post was 77... and it's hardly ever Americans. I told my kids that I was a world famous blogger, and tried showing them my counter that has the flags of the different countries that people are from... but they aren't buying it. DD2 believed me for a while - but that went down the drain when DD1 said, "Mom, people land there by accident. You're not famous." How in the world does she know that?