I'm leaving on a jet plane

I'm off to sunny, beautiful, eighty degree Florida tonight. I'm catching a late flight and should arrive to meet my hubby at midnight. He left yesterday for a work conference and I'm going to meet him for the, uh, pool and beach. We'll be back on Sunday evening. Luckily just in time for me to jump off the plane and head to Belk for the private shopping event (where ticket holders enjoy the entire store at 20% discount, even the sale prices!) because I have priorities people!

Because I'm a sweet little wife I woke up bright and early, scratch that, there was nothing bright about five in the morning so it was just early, to take him to the airport yesterday morning. Synopsis of morning: After a forty minute drive home that should have taken only twenty five but I was in the wrong exit lane and couldn't get back over because of the idiot drivers so therefore had to take an extensive detour which did not route me by Starbucks as was the original plan I was on the adjacent street only moments before turning on to our street and thus a mile from the house when pooch hurls in the backseat. For the love of everything good you've got to be kidding me. Luckily his vomit doesn't smell.

After work I went to babysit for a couple of hours. I love Iz and Hut. Iz was only three when I first started watching them and now is going to middle school (boooo hoooo!). Hut was an infant and is now in first grade. He had a big head and lots of slobber. I fell in love with him instantly. How time flies! It was fun to see them for a few hours and Iz made me one rockin' ice cream sundae (moose tracks, chocolate syrup, whip cream, sprinkles) and even gave me a few whip cream shots straight from the can. I know, I'm one A plus babysitter.

That was definitely the highlight of my evening as I don't care for sleeping alone. I don't mind having a few hours to myself because I was able to clean like a mad woman with my music blasting and no one got in my way, less pooch who got a work out chasing the vacuum cleaner. One day he'll catch it, one day! However, come bedtime, I get nervous. Even in light of recent home security drills, I just don't like it. Thankfully it was only one night and J's travel season isn't too bad.

So let's get to the point of this post which is my flight. I booked my flight online and couped the rental car with it for an added discount. I had great flight prices of $49 down and $84 back. Not too shabby. Of course there were taxes, and segment fees (and that is what exactly?), and PFC (yes, explanation please), and security fees, and fees for breathing on the plane, and fees for each finger. Geesh. But do you want to know my favorite fees? Do you? The first would be the $9.50 convenience fee also listed as miscellaneous. This would be the fee for me booking Allegiant through Allegiant. Well golly gee whiz Allegiant. Thanks for the convenience. Because there are tons of other choices out there, right? My second favorite fee, which I didn't notice until I printed the receipt, was the $22 seat selection fee. Uh, scuze me? All I did was click "ok" when you showed me the seat on the littled color coded plane map. I thought seat 12A looked good enough to me. What I didn't know is that it's prime real estate to the tune of $22.

See, what ha-happened was Allegiant Air does not do assigned seating. You can make requests upon arrival but there are no guarentees. However, you can buy prime real estate for the ridiculous price of $22. I'm sure there was a hidden little button somewhere that read "save me my money and put me anywhere!" but even if I'd have found it it would have probably moved when I tried to click it. I'm going to have to sneak around airport poles unloading seat estate on the black market of the tarmac. "Psssst! Hey--hey you! I've go seat 12A going for only $25. Wait--wait---I'll take $24! $23!...."

Do you know what didn't get past me? That was the $5 per bag fee. I was only planning on taking a carry-on anyway because I'm a good packer and it would save so much time. But now I'm 'fo'sho only taking the carry-on. And you're going to benefit Internet. I'm going to give you a crash course on my light packing, just you wait!

The antics don't end there! You simply must hear the rental car experience. Apparently all the places close at 11. My flight lands at 10:50 so that's cutting it close even providing everything goes well. When booking my car with the flight I could save a little cash (which they happily took in fees) and also acutally book a car since all the other sites said my pick-up time was too late. I called the car rental place to double check everything. Let's see how it went.

Car Place (CP): Hey di rah at ala cah how canuh hep ya.
Me: (????) Hi, is this Alamo rental car?
CP: yah.
Me: Ok, Hi there. This is Mrs. M. I'm flying in on Wednesday the 16th at 10:50 and wanted to make sure that you would still be open since the website states you close at 11.
CP: yah we be heuh.
Me: Excuse me?
CP: yah.
Me: Yes?
CP: yah.
Me: Ok, um, I suppose that's a yes. In the event my flight is delayed will I still be able to pick up my car?
CP: jus fola duh udda fudda nie peepuh gittin dey cah too.
Me: Excuse me?
CP: jus fola duh udda fudda nie peepuh gittin dey cah too.
Me: Uh. There are forty nine people needing a car? I just need mine, and that's one car. For me. Mrs. M. At eleven p.m. on Wednesdey the 16th.
CP: we be heuh.

Oh for the love! All I have to say is that Rah (Rob? Rod?) best have me a slammin' jalopi pulled up, stopped parked, rims still spinnin' when I arrive.

(Thanks again Chingy for that great song in which I quote).

Weekends et. al.

J and I had planned on having a night in on Friday night. The weather was nasty and we were tired. Of course then our tummies talked us into some Mexican. Ole!

Sidenote: Old Mexico is nearly always packed so I'm not sure they'd go out of business without us, but I definitely think the sales would suffer. Especially the margarita kind of sales.

I was waiting for J to arrive home and got a call for a last minute babysitter. Ugh! I wasn't really feeling like it but Mr. P said it was later (after dinner) and assured me the kids would be in bed. Besides the P's pay well and you know what? I can lounge on my sofa or I can lounge on their sofa.

I arrived expecting the kids to be hanging from the ceiling like wild banshees. But instead J and I were greeted to a quiet home with beer, wine, and some tasty snacks. We happily sent the P's out on the town. Let's recap: sleeping children, beer, wine, food, and mucho dinero. I'd say it was a good night.

I think I just aged us 30 years: we'd rather babysit rather than go out on the town ourselves.

In our defense we don't have a free weekend until June. Let's run down the schedule, shall we?

This weekend we'll be in Florida. J is leaving in morning and I'll be leaving Wednesday evening. More on that later. We were also invited to a shrimp boil and a wedding this weekend, but will be attending neither.

Next weekend we're actually babysitting the entire weekend. I'll get the hoodlums on Friday night and hang them on the wall until their parents return on Sunday. We start with the P's (2 kids) and then Saturday will add the R's (3 kids). Great birth control and great cold hard cash all in one weekend, what more could we ask for? Oh, and I have an art auction benefit to attend that Sunday afternoon.

The last weekend in April, which in my mind was the 31st, we were supposed to finish our new bathroom off of the den. I've only just realized that that weekend doesn't actually exist and therefore find myself in a conundrum.

The following weekend (May 2 if you're playing along) we have a Derby party to attend on Friday night (fun dress! big hat! MINT JULEPS!) I may or may not have to work at a photoshoot for my job on Saturday. Saturday night we're going to the O's for a graduation and birthday party. Sunday afternoon I'm hosting a baby shower for a girlfriend (you should see the cutest stuff ever I've made! I'll share later!) I'm also hosting bunco later that week.

May 10 I have my sorority alumni meeting, service project, and afternoon sisterhood event. That evening is our Spring Cocktail at a local jazz club. I was also invited to a packing and moving party but that's not going to happen. But isn't that a clever idea? Lure people over with the promise of food and drinks and then while they're there, BAM! give them some boxes and bubble wrap and tell them to have at it.

May 16 and 17 we're going to the Scenic City to visit the O's and Addy, who is finally back in the South. I'm also taking half our house to put in the O's garage sale. Don't tell my husband as it's his half that I'm taking.

The following weekend we're loading up and taking a roadtrip north to the mountains. We'll visit my Pappy and family and also the ever precious Pie and Tart. Then the weekend after that, the last weekend in May J is loading up thirty pounds of goods on my back, sending me five miles into the woods and having me eat and sleep there. Yes, it's the long talked about backpacking trip. Yikes!

Ok so the point is we totally deserved the old fogie weekend, don't you think?

(Check out the latest at The Bargainista).

Home Security Drill

Last week J gave me a "home security drill." It received quite a reaction at The Roost last Saturday night. They all got a big hoot out of having a "home security drill" as he called it.

A few weekends ago we visited J's parents and he brought back his 12-gage shot gun. We have a pistol thingy of some sort around here too, although I'm not sure where, what, or how the heck to use the thing.

You see, I don't really do guns. Unlike Mrs. S who has a family arsenal, I never had a gun in my house. Therefore, they make me a bit uncomfortable. That said I've contemplated buying a small pistol (did you know you can get pink ones?), attending some target practice, and getting a concealed carry permit. I live in a very safe town, but I hear things sometimes and it makes me think I should be better able to protect myself. That said, I also don't want to be paranoid.

J brought the shotgun in and announced that he was going to keep it in the bedroom, our bedroom.

???

He proceeds to show me how to load the bullets, which by the way are called shells. Yes they are. They're shells.

Then my darling husband gives me specific instructions on what to do in the event I need to use the gun.

"Cupcake, pay attention! First, you shoot the wall and give the (expletive removed) a chance to run. It's a helluva lot easier to repair some drywall and replace a vase than to scrap his ass up off my floors and clean up the mess. Besides, that involves a lot of disclosures and paperwork which I'd really rather not do."

Well, you heard it hear first!

Tackiest Shower Ever

Last Saturday evening J and I attended a couples shower for a lovely friend of mine. The bride is a sweet girl whom I see at least a couple times per month at our women’s organization as well as bunco and a few other social events. We were all so excited when she and her boyfriend got engaged. The following weekend I had a little dinner party and women of the soiree were quite the captive audience when listening to the engagement story. Sadly, it sucked. We kept waiting for the exciting part, only it sucked. Moving on.

I was very excited and seeing as how I love to entertain I immediately told her I wanted to host a shower for the bunco girls. We were all thrilled. Then I received and email from the bride, let’s call her Jane, because, well, that’s her name. I received an email from Jane with a save the date message for a couple’s shower her friend was hosting. There were only a few girls on the bunco list on that email. At the bottom she put this.

“Shhhh! It’s only your girls from the group. Lovely, fabulous, darling Mrs. M, don’t worry about a shower. Just come to this one it’s going to loads of fun.”

Hmm, seeing as how our “group” sees each other at least twice per month I found it odd she couldn’t throw out a few extra invites as she is inviting 350-400 people to the wedding. A bit awkward I think.

Finally I receive the invitation to the shower. The invitation is dark teal and burgundy colors and is very floral and nearly paisley. It’s hand written on the inside, a fill-in-the-blank style, which is totally fine. Then, there is a picture of the couple at the top with “fiesta” type stickers and also a load of “fiesta” confetti inside. Fine! Not everyone can be the cutsy-tutsy paper crafter that I am and get a total high off of making things on their own that are darling and because I’m a glutton for punishment I made all my wedding invitations, save-the-dates, etc. so I let it slide.

What I couldn’t let slide was the printed and pasted strip at the bottom. It read:

“John would like Bass Pro Shop gift cards or cash for electronics. Jane is registered at Dillard’s, The Pottery Barn, and Bed, Bath, and Beyond. And remember, gift cards are always appreciated.”

(Actually it was worse than that but I cleaned up the grammar and punctuation a bit).

Pick your jaw up off the floor. It really said that! How tacky! People, we live in the South for crying out loud! And I mean no offense to my darling Northern counterparts (Jenny, Rusti XOXO!) because I know they are far too classy and lovely to do such a thing. I’m just saying that the South is known to be a bit more smug, proper, and follow etiquette rules to a T.

First of all, THEY are engaged, THEY are planning a wedding, THEY are getting married. This is not separate Christmas lists. Furthermore does Idiot Hostess think I’m going to go slip John a $20? “Hey Dude, get yourself a nice DVD from the M’s.” Puh-leeze! I instead found a nice teapot they’d (or, um, Jane) registered for from the Pottery Barn of which I received 40% discount (thankyouverymuch!). As a side note, I always pick out something I’d want for myself. You know, in case they don’t walk down the aisle and give it back. I’m just sayin’!

(The registry is a whole other post. I already have a registry pet peeve about some things but the 6,000 in pots and pans pretty much did it here. Let’s just say it made my darling friend look like a greedy snot./end rant).

I call up the hostess to RSVP for the party and left a message.

“Hi (Idiot Hostess) this is (the Mrs. M). I’m calling in response to the invitation for John and Jane’s couple shower. Thank you so much for the invitation, my husband and I are honored to attend. Also if there is anything I can do to help you please let me know. I adore Jane and would be happy to assist.”

It was true. I’d be happy to make dessert, help decorate, clean-up, etc. Especially the clean-up. You know I’m a freak about cleaning.

J and I went on a date that evening and I didn’t take my phone. I returned to a message from Idiot Hostess.

“Hi (Southern Belle whom I could learn from, Mrs. M) this is (Idiot Hostess). Thanks so much for calling. The party is going to be great. I don’t think I need any help right now. I think I have a bartender coming, despite his personal issues ( ?????). There will be a party bucket there so if anyone wants to pitch in with the party expenses that would be great."

Oh. Yes. She. DID! So help me, the South will rise again and they’re all going to open a can of whoop-ass on this idiot! Ok, rule number one of hosting a party, don’t host a party you can’t afford. Rule number two, don’t insult a Southern Belle by suggesting she “pitch in” for a party where she is a guest. Rule number three DON’T HOST A DAMN PARTY YOU CAN’T AFFORD!

Oh friends, you’d think it’s over, but it gets better. Keep reading.

This party has been way talked up. It’s in the evening beginning at 7:30 p.m. and my little crew of guests have been told how amazing it’s going to be and how the food will be delish and it’s being catered, etc. It really appears to be more of an engagement party but “shower” was thrown on to ensure gifts.

We’re stoked despite all the tackiness.

Party night turns out to be dreary, cold, and rainy. Although I’d like to wear my comfy’s all evening and cuddle up with my J, I get all dolled up and head to the “Fiesta”.

We are the first of my crew of friends to arrive. The guest of honor comes to greet me followed by the Idiot Hostess. Let me know just say, seeing her cleared up a lot. A whole lot!

Ring Ring! Lisa Turtle called, she wants her clothes back. Picture overtanned 40 year old skin that resembles a well-worn leather sofa. Dark black hair that doesn’t appear in nature and curtain bangs. Too tight white capris that shouldn’t be worn by anyone. An orange t-shirt with some funky gold design. A white woven, braided type belt with gold something or other weaved in it. And my favorite, white and gold flashy athletic shoes that appear to be baby phat a la T.J. Maxx rejected clearance. Just had to throw all that in there.

Idiot Hostess hands me a drink ticket that reads “one free margarita”.

Yes, I received a drink ticket. At a party I was invited to as a guest.

Idiot Hostess leads me to the “bar” which is a table blocking off the kitchenette area in the corporate break room of her husband’s company. I hand over my ticket to the “bartender.”

Oh the bartender. Let’s just say something tells me his “personal issues” involved an orange jump suit living downtown with bars, and not the kind that serves drinks.

And he reeked of stale cigarette smoke.

When he turned around to get ice for my drink the Idiot Hostess mouthed to me “isn’t he cute”. I responded with a blank stare.

As he was getting my drink, straight out of the $5 Target party bucket with spout, I noticed a taped piece of notebook paper to the table. Sit down if you’re not already.

Margarita’s $4
Sweet Tea $2
Coke Products $2

You’ve got to be kidding me. Seriously? It was the worst margarita ever! Was there even tequila in it? I think it was lime kool-aid and salt. Regular table salt, not margarita/drink rimming salt. Oh, and you have to ask for the lime. AND I DID!

The coke products were in cans. The sweet tea was sitting on the table in a Kroger gallon jug. The entire jug wasn’t even $2. As for the sodas, I think I’d have went to the drink machine and put in my fifty cents.

Let’s talk about the food. You know, the delicious catered food.

It was chips and dip.

Yes, I was invited to a party at dinnertime where I was told there would be food and there was chips and dip. I’d joked that I’d better eat a snack before hand because she’d likely rip the second taco from my hands, but this was beyond my expectations.

Oh, but it was catered from a Mexican restaurant chain, three days ago apparently.

The chips were the large corn tortilla variety that are only good hot, or they’re a greasy stale mess. The queso was so cold it could have been cubed and put on toothpicks. The bean dip was cold and too spicy to eat since I couldn’t get anything to drink (ad if I’d pay!) and the salsa was ok but a bit spicy as well.

After some lame and inappropriate games for a couple’s shower my stomach was about to eat itself and this “fiesta” was more of a “siesta.” The crew and I decided to jump ship and head to a neighborhood Cheers-type bar for good food and alcohol. We trickled out, all by 10 p.m. Siesta indeed!

We arrived at The Roost and gabbed over delicious fried bar food and several pitchers of Blue Moon (that were only $8 each!!!) like the hen house we are about the atrocious site we just witnessed. Even the men chimed up at the horrid event.

I think I need to send Idiot Hostess Mrs. M’s Guide to Entertaining. And also send her back to planet Idiot, population 1.

I don’t feel words do as much justice as my animated and dramatic story telling, but hopefully you understand the complete and utter tackiness.

What’s your worst ever party story? Have you experienced anything quite so tacky?

(Addy—I’ve not been able to catch up to share this story first, I do want to tell you this in person. You and your mother will be horrifed!!)

The cookies were good

There is nothing quite like arriving at the office only to realize you are schedule to be in a seminar in about an hour. Lucky for me I was dressed well enough to meet, greet, and schmooze.
The seminar was informative, but a lot of information I already knew. While factual and helpful, it was also rather biased and one sided to the product of the sponsor. Shocking.

I also enjoyed the smooth transition to a sales pitch and the cleverly placed consultant next to me.

I really enjoyed the cookies, muffins, and beverages. Oh, and the part where Mrs. S called and when she asked what I was doing I answered "nothin' chillin at the Holiday Inn". Har Har! I crack me up. Thank you Chingy for the song that allowed me to repeat those words.

(Pssst! Go here and check out some new goodies!)

My kids are going to private school. END! of discussion!

The M’s have been hopping lately and we’ve barely had a chance to sit down. We’ve had a host of social invitations lately and one such invitation makes for a great story which I’ll share with you this week.

We’ve also been busy doing a few spring things on our home. We now have our cute little garden all planted and I’ve planted some of my seeds that outgrew the eggshells. Yes! Who knew I’d actually grow something? Now that they are outside, definitely pray for my black thumb to turn a bit more green.

We also bought the final items to finish our new bathroom. Praise the Lord there is a light at the end of the tunnel. I’ve given my darling husband a deadline of May 10. I have a few social gatherings I’m hosting in May or June so we need this little project wrapped up. Oh, and we had a "Home Security Drill" which I’ll share later this week as well. You won't want to miss that one. Only in the M house!

But right now I need to share my disbelief of a little something I saw this weekend. I was sitting on the sofa drinking my coffee Sunday morning because we're heathens who skipped church, waiting for the sun to appear and reading checking out the weekly ads in the newspaper. I was flipping through the channels and stopped on a new show that I found. Well, I’m sure it’s not new and is probably rather old but since I rarely watch TV, I’d never seen it or heard of it.

So for an episode or three I was glued to the train wreck that is High School Confidential. For the love of all that is good tell me this is made up stuff and that kids aren’t really acting like this and doing those things. I told J no less than one dozen times that afternoon that our kids must go to a secret underground private school with no connection to the outside world and they don’t need to date and get married because I will take care of them forever! and ever and ever and ever!
He wasnt a fan of this idea.

I suppose I’m a bit sheltered and naive from my little redneck high school in the sticks. I thought “bad stuff” only happened on the old school DeGrassi of the 90s, 90210, and My So-Called Life. That stuff didn’t really happen! Perhaps I’m also kidding myself because my little brother (BOO HOO MY BABY BROTHER!) is now in high school. I graduated high school when he started Kindergarten because my parents were planners like that. Anyway, I don’t want think that he is seeing, hearing, or worse, doing such things that these kids were so blasé about.

J and I have often talked about the education of our five* unborn and not yet conceived children. He went to a private school his entire life and is totally on board with it. Well, if we move out of city limits that is because by golly we play one hundred and fifty American dollars per month to live in the great city of MyTown and our kids are going to use every red cent of that tax by going to and loving public schools. So, if we move to the county we can send them to private school apparently. This is fine with me as I've got my sights set on a lovely neighborhood in the "county" that has tennis courts, playground, and a neighborhood only pool and is also partially on the lake. Also, this neighborhood puts us in the area for a fabulous elementary school that is very nice due to the parents having a private foundation to support the school. So, fine by me to move me to the neighborhood whenever you like. All this providing we stay in MyTown rather than moving next year.

Back to the subject at hand now. I know that private schools don’t take away from the world and all that is going on, but I feel like it perhaps will be a more controlled environment with less of the “bad apples” and therefore the less than desireable influences. Now I know kids need to make mistakes and all, but if I can put those mistakes off until college when they just might have a bit more brain in their head and an ounce more maturity, then that's what I'd like to do. I really don't want to "shelter" my kids but I would like for them to have strong direction and limited chances at screwing up before they leave the nest forever. Therefore I'll get them the old school DeGrassi of the 90s, 90210, and My So-Called Life on DVD so they learn from those mistakes. See, I have a plan!

What’s your opinion? Private vs. public? Are they one and the same? How about those high school kids today? Are you in disbelief or am I showing that there really is an old lady living in my body? Have you seen the show?

*Five: just seeing if you were paying attention honey! Kiss kiss!

Dum Dum Da Dee Dum!

Sound the trumpet! It's here! I've finally opened my online store: La La Lollipop and the complimenting blog: That's Sew La La.

It's still a bit under construction and I have new products added weekly so keep checking back with me. (You will, won't you?)

Please (puh-leeze!) visit and share with your family, friends, co-workers, and anyone who just might be interested.

Also, if you'd like to give me a little advertising via your blog I'll give you a code for your readers to receive 10% off their total order. Woot! Everybody loves a bargain!

Go shop and spread the word (please!).

Memoirs of a Blazer

Yesterday afternoon J sold his Blazer. I do believe it was a bit bittersweet for him. He spouted off random tidbits of information and lightly suggesting I blog it.

Here I am.

The Blazer was the first car he owned until it was actually paid off rather than trading. He apparently also owned at least two cars at once until the Blazer. I think there was more but I was very interested in my baked potato when he was telling me all of this.

I have my own fair share of memories of the Blazer, hereinout known as B.

• Our first date was in the B. Lunch, then coffee, then browsed a few stores.
• I learned of his mad love for Hootie that first date in the B and he gave me a copy of every CD that very moment.
• Our first hug was in the B that very day as well.
• Our first kiss was in the B on our second date. I’d taken him to my sorority formal on our second date! Why did I torture the man?
• The B moved J to MyTown.
• The B also acquired a third of it’s miles in just two months: day J met me to the day he through caution in the wind and moved to be with me.
• Our first roadtrip to a concert in South Carolina was in the B.
• Also, our first trip to Charleston was in the B.
• We had several “high schoolers parked in the dark by the river” moments in the B, ahem.
• We brought our Mackipoo home in the B.
• And who could forget the massive hauling of playset five hours North all due to deranged, yet lovely, wife?

The B sure was good to us. Here’s to just as many lovely memories in the new Benz.

(J-feel free to add anything I’ve left out)

Weekend? Weekend?

Hey, did anyone see my weekend? It appears he skipped through town without even saying “hello”.
I did manage to paint the majority of the new bathroom and also monogram a swimsuit.

“What? You monogrammed a swimsuit?”

Of course I did. I’m Sourthern and obsessed.

And as Mrs. S puts it at least she will be able to easily identify my hungover self when I’m face down on the sand basking in the sun on our beach trip in September.

Oh, and J and I are heading to Florida for a long weekend in just a few short weeks. Yippie!

I also drank a coke on Saturday night. I’ve basically quit daily injections of caffeine since I gave up soda for Lent and was forced to drink water and only water for a week when my bladder was bitterly rebuking my body. I decided that I can do without it and to drink it only on occasion.

Note to self: on occasion should not be a Saturday evening or else at 2am I’ll be doing jumping jacks and cartwheels through the house with no signs of stopping.

This will make for an unpleasant and tired day when you rise at the crack of dawn on Sunday for a roadtrip to visit the in-laws. Well, at least until you eat a few of your mother-in-laws double expresso brownies and then WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

However I crashed quickly and it wasn’t pretty.

Now if you’ll excuse me I must make it through the remainder of my day with my good ol’ H2O.

Pictures! The Benz and The Check List

The grand finale of all the promised pictures is here!

Here it in all it's glory! The Benz! Still pondering a good nickname for it, but I'm sure it's a him. Suggestions welcome!

(above left: full shot, fancy controls on the door that adjust the seat to about a million different ways. Below left: the awesome third row seat that pops up backwards, the fancy interior console, and Pooch ready to go for a ride.)

Here are all of our landscaping efforts from last weekend: mulching, planting mowing the lawn.

(above left: the "Charlie Brown" peach tree, the fancy pancy tree that I always forget the name of, and the dogwood, all with fresh mulch. Below left: our pretty mowed lawn, the front landscaping. There are about 2 dozen flowers there in the front but a bit hard to see.)

Behold, my planting efforts:

(Above left:the eggshell garden in the kitchen window. I'm starting most of my herbs, poppies, and gerber daisies. Once they sprout you pant the eggshell and all and it provides calcium. I know how to garden, I just have problems with execution. Dying sleeping jonquils, the mint in the herb garden that doesn't look so good. Below left: green onions in the herb garden that are coming back, flowers planted in the window boxes on the garden shed, the small container garden of wildflowers packed with compost. Apparently something in the compost is appealing to pooch as he sniffs it out.)

The herb garden containers are bolted to the banister of our kitchen porch. In the winter I use it as my compost pile. I toss out tons of organic items in it such as coffee (the acid is good for roses, tomatoes, and holly bushes), eggs, apple cores, veggie peels, etc. When it's time to plant the herbs I rake out all of the compost and put it on the fresh plants as a little springtime feed. Throughout the spring and summer we take out compostable type items straight to the plants daily. I know all about how to garden properly, but plants come to me to die! Here's hoping we change that this year.

Now I leave you with one of my favorite parts our home, the patio:

I realize from the picture that it needs pressure washed. I'm going to get Hubs right on that. You can't see the firebowl from this picture but it's a spring, summer, and fall favorite. We roast marshmallows on it and make s'mores. We also just sit around it with wine and beer and call it a Southern Saturday night. It's a big hit with friends and guests.

Also, I must brag that the fabulous patio furniture you see here was all garage sales or, even better, free! The chaise lounger and the glider were purchased at the end of last summer but with wedding gift cards (yes, we held onto some a year and a half in). The tables and chairs were all garage sale or craigslist finds. We sanded with a wire brush, painted them all black, and spayed on healthy coats of polyurethane. We also have a smaller circular table but it's stored in the garden shed currently. It will go on our deck should we ever decide to build it. The grand total for a round table and four chairs ($40 at garage sale) and the oblong/oval table with six chairs and a bonus chair and side table ($125 on CL) was $165. You can't even purchase the small set for that price! We love having plenty of room for drop-in spring guests.

Services Rendered

It was high time I go to the market. Even the dog agreed!

I really, really dislike grocery shopping. It’s an hour of my life I’ll never get back. There are 43,628 things I’d rather do than grocery shop.

Yesterday evening I came home from work, prepared rice to steam, changed clothes, and did a little workout. I returned to the kitchen to prepare dinner (stir-fry, yum!) as Hubs arrived home. We ate and cleaned up. I watered my dead/dying plants and played fetch with pooch until he made me fetch the ball three times and I realized he was over the game.

Then, I prepared to go to the market.

Hubs proposed an interesting trade. He would go the market for me if I would perform a little service for him. Hmmm.... I weighed the pros and cons and wondered if I should take his little offer. I decided it was indeed worth the trade as the service wasn’t that bad.

I happily agreed and sent him off to the grocery store.

Then I went downstairs to the office and did his powerpoint presentation for his International Management class.

Services rendered indeed!

To-do lists and half-off eggs

Today is a good day. I’m able to drink soda again (gave it up for Lent) and the Reese’s eggs and Cadbury crème eggs are half off! I purchased no less than a half dozen for a whopping $1.64. I may go back for more, but I'll never admit it so don't even ask.

What a way to wind down an already fabulous weekend. As I told you I took Friday off (by the way, I think it should totally be a rule that everyone gets Good Friday off as well as the Monday after Easter. All in favor raise your hand!) since Husband’s work was closed that day. I rolled in late Thursday night from bunco but I was up with the sun and ready to roll on Friday. I’m very proud to report that we finished nearly the entire to-do list. Oh nothing makes me swoon like the completion of a to-do list, and on the scheduled timeline as well. I get so high that even Jack and coke can’t match the feeling. But don’t tell Jack. He’ll take offense. J doesn't understand the timeline I have attached to all projects. It must be a man thing because Mr. S doesn't get it either. However Mrs. S and I as well as all good women know that finishing projects in a timely manner is the only way to do it. Things we did this weekend (without bullet points because it's not working properly for me):

Covered four chairs
Mulched landscaping
Planted peach tree
Mulched trees in yard (four)
Planted 6 dozen flowers
Planted herb garden
Painted laundry room
Super cleaned and organized all contents of said laundry room when replacing
Painted and installed trim in den
Primed new bathroom
Began digging garden

Mowed the lawn

That's right! Give mama a day off work and watch her go! Oh the things I could accomplish if I didn't have that pesky 40+ hour per week gig. Said gig does finance trips to Target and health insurance though.

The only items not completed were painting the new bathroom and decorating. There were unforeseen hold ups with the dry wall mud taking a long time to dry, and then my overzealous cleaning removing a chunk of it from the way of which husband had to redo. Oops. However, that is all finished and I can paint this week.

This weekend we’ll finish the garden area (J is going to frame it out all pretty like landscaping). We ususally have a few pots of tomato plants but this year we're branching out to an entire 4x8 garden because we live off the land like that. We're also getting crazy with some blueberry bushes.

Since it is freezing here today and there are snow flurries twirling about, I’ll spend this evening on a much needed thorough house cleaning. It’s became quite the disaster area after the week of construction and weekend of home projects.

If you’ll refer to items five and six on the list and you know my sad history with plants, then let us pray. I planted about 4 dozen actual plants and then a couple dozen seeds in addition to a wildflower container garden in which I just threw in a handful of seeds, covered with soil and added compost. The herbs, except mint which was given to me, are all seeds as well. May the gardening gods be with me.

I was going to take pictures off all the productivity and gloat share my to do list success. But alas I did not. Perhaps I’ll snap a few in the semi-near future. And I promise there will be pictures of Ridin’ Dirty: White & Nerdy.

Sparse

It's been slim pickins' around here for the past few weeks now hasn't it? I've been working on a few new projects and they've taken more time than I imagined. With the nice weekend weather we've been having I've not felt like sitting at my computer, even outside. Also I was finished with one of the projects and now I want to change the name. I've found two additional names so I'm debating between three and trying to figure out which is me "in a nutshell."

Also work has kept me moving. I've been out of the office for meetings and in additional meetings while in the office all while trying to keep all afloat. I had a meeting with my VP and the two CEO/principles yesterday. You know, I'm not sure I'm ever going to feel like I fit or that I belong. I'll always be nervous when I'm the lone girl in a meeting of middle aged men. I feel so inadequate. I guess that's better than being overconfident and conceited. I think (hope!) I hide it somewhat well. My goal is to always throw out two very good points or ideas and then I stay mum. Me! Staying mum! That's a hoot.

I was given four large projects yesterday that are repeating. Meaning as I finish it for one week I work on it for the next week. My deadline for the (12 page +) newsletter is on Tuesday. I'm taking Friday off because my husband has it off (I'm appalled it's not given to me, but whatever!)and I'm itching to spend the day with him. We have a plethora of home projects planned (recovering chairs, redoing trim in the den, painting the new bathroom, painting the laundry room, mulching, etc.). I'm very excited to be with him all day and to have a nice long weekend. We may even head to the mountains one day. Yippie!

Given all above in the previous paragraph I very well may be at work at midnight tonight. Wait! It's bunco tonight so I'll definately be gone by 7:00. Please send brownies. And ice cream. And perhaps some Hibachi because that sounds tasty right now.

I promise I'll get pictures of Ridin' Dirty:White & Nerdy up here! Wait in anticipation!

(In the meantime, head over to The Bargainista. There are like 6 new posts up there!)

Ridin' Dirty:White & Nerdy

As my husband and I were returning from our favorite thrift store on Saturday morning, he saw it.

By it I mean a car he fell instantly in love with.

It may be safe to say that he loved this car quicker than he loved his wife, but I won't because that would hurt my feelings.

He talked about the car. He researched the car. He ran the numbers on the car. He went to look at the car.

I returned to the dealership with him last night and after negotiating to my liking, he bought the car.

What kind of car you ask?

Prepare yourself.

Are you prepared?

I mean really!

Ok.

My husband bought a Mercedes Benz.

Pick yourself up off the floor.

Put your tongue back in your mouth.

Pop your eyes back in your head.

It gets better.

Indeed it gets better Internet. I wouldn't toy with you about such a thing!

The car is fabulous! Leather interior. Sunroof. Shiny woodgrain dashboard. Fancy schmancy radio/cd player. Power everything. Things I didn't know could be power are indeed power. Third row seat, seating up to seven people. Rides like a dream.

Now you think I'm just bragging don't you?

Are you ready to really have your eyes pop out of your head? To really have your jaw hit the floor?

Did you notice the third row seat?

Yup, it's a wagon!

Now you're confused, aren't you?

Wanna know the even bigger kicker to it?

(Drum roll please!)

The brand spanking new (to us) Mercedes Benz Wagon is a 1989!

Yes, you read that right: nineteen eighty nine.

My husband's dream car is an old wagon and it's now his.

I'll post pictures later as my cell phone pictures do not do justice for this lovely vehicle.

Romantic Dinner

Among other things this weekend my husband fixed me a fabulous dinner on Saturday night. He worked really hard to make a delicious steak. It was soaked in a Cabernet marinade and stuffed with fontina cheese, procsuitto, fresh basil, spinach then grilled to perfection. He served it with a fresh spinach salad and vino. Delightful!

I'd share the exact recipe but I'd have to pry it from his cold, dead hands and well, we don't want that!

The table was set all pretty and I enjoyed a delcious meal made by my sweet hubs.

A meal I don't prepare nor clean up is uber romantic in my book!

I think I'll keep him.

Dinner Table Topics

Every evening my husband and I sit down to eat dinner together. No TV, no phones, just us and the fruitcake puppy and usually some background music. Also, often by candlelight because I'm so fancy like that. Really, I feel it's a great time for us to stop and rest from our day and really connect with each other before he has to begin school work and I run errands, clean the house, make a lot of noise, go crazy over something entertain myself.

We discuss our day, our thoughts, upcoming plans, etc.

So I'm left to wonder, what do ob/gyn doctors talk about at the dinner table?

My Grand Opening

Today was my Britney’s grand opening. Oh how nervous I get over this little exam. And you know what was even worse? I went to a man doctor. Yes, that’s right. I took my Britney to a man. I’m not sure what’s worse: having your foot in stirrups and just letting your “knees fall open” with a man all up in your hoochie coochie and company, or having your foot in stirrups and just letting your “knees fall open” with a woman in your up in your hoochie coochie and company. Both disturb me but I did like this doctor. I think it’s true that men doctors are more sympathetic than their women counterparts.

I arrived for my appointment and was all frustrated and turned around and just wanted to get a milkshake (at 8:00 a.m.) and go home. I had, in fact, already discounted this doctor before I met him. I had a complete altercation of comebacks to snap in case the staff had any remarks of my tardiness. They were all very friendly actually. The nurse was sweet and thorough, and the doctor actually sat down and talked with me about every issue/symptom possible before I got nakey. My old doctor merely nodded her head and said it was no big deal as she shoved her fingers in as if she were pulling my teeth through my va-jay-jay. Um, ouch!

Due to frequent bladder infections and the sugar coated tinkle sample I’d given recently, Doc thought he should check my electrolytes and a bunch of other big words. And wouldn’t you know he wanted to do this by sticking a needle the size of a lightpole in my arm? I turned pale and nearly hit the floor at the thought. I told him that wasn’t a good idea and I was a bad patient. He didn’t mention it any further until I was about to leave. The, oh then, he had me come back! Oh the trauma. I lied down and began to cry big alligator tears because I’m a really mature mid-twenty-something you know. Oh the anxiety I feel at such thoughts. Tears are inevitable.

I’m as shocked as you when I say the worse part was when she tied that little thing around my arm. This was the gentlest nurse I’d ever had. Despite the fact that I have a bruise on my itty bitty wee little arm that is roughly the size and shape of a Boeing 747, it could have been worse. I know, I can’t believe I said it either. It still sucked, don’t get me wrong. But I didn’t pass out so that’s a big step.

Oh, and I had three boxes of Girl Scout cookies to console me. God bless the Girl Scouts for being their in my time of weakness need. Unfortunately I only ate 5 cookies, but I had lofty aspirations for all three boxes in one sitting.

So I left the doctor with my juice box (don’t judge me!) and handful of prescriptions. Seriously I thought he might run out of paper if he didn’t quit writing. That and I’m sure I’ll be adequately billed for the new prescription pad.

I’ll be gallivanting off to the Target pharmacy this evening and also to console myself in a good bargain somewhere in the store.

And then I have homework from the doctor. I’ll bet my husband is going to enjoy said homework, ahem.

Four years ago today

I was on a blind date with my husband.

He had amazing blue eyes.

A contagious laugh.

A handsome smile.

Nice dresser.

Good conversationalist.

And he didn't open my car door.

I won't let him forget that, but I did give him a second date.

Then I fell in love.

Hard, fast.

And I married him.

I've never been happier.

An Unexpected Visitor

What a lovely weekend J and I had with our friends. A few extra guests were added last minute, but were a delight to the group. Great times were had by all; and all were over-served on Saturday night, ahem.

In the midst of all the fun and festivities this weekend, Murphy slipped right through the door. That Murphy, he has some sense of humor. I woke up Saturday feeling like I'd been hit by a bus. Our overnight guests were spending the afternoon visiting a grandmother for her birthday so we had a few hours alone at home. J loaded me up with orange juice and medicine and put me to bed for a couple hours. I woke up feeling like a new person...or so I thought!

I was able to prepare everything in record time with the assistance of Mrs. O and everything was fabulous Saturday night. We had great appetizers, a tasty dinner, a spread of desserts, and a ten gallon galvanized bucket full of spirits. Now that is a Southern Saturday night.

Sunday morning I woke up feeling as if I'd been hit by a bus full of smelly high school football players who don't change their underwear. Then it backed up over me again. And then went forward. And you get the picture, yes?

Let me give you fair warning Internet: boast not about thy great health, and all thy vitamins taken regularly, and how much water thy drinks, and all the healthy goodness in thy diet, and how thy washes thy hands, uses hand sanitizer, and disinfectant wipes; lest thy get both a sinus and bladder infection simultaneously.

How did I do this you ask? Well clearly I'm an overachiever and I don’t half-ass anything.

Should you choose to ignore my warning, beware! You may find yourself being gung-ho the first one in line at the doctor’s emergency clinic. In order to do this on Monday morning and get to work you may get up and do you hair and make-up just before deciding “to hell with it” and donning yoga pants and a fleece zip-up, monogrammed in your defense. To class up the outfit you slip on ballet flats with a little bow in a fit of running out the door.

You may find yourself with a lovely female nurse to care for you, and her male student. You decide there is no eloquent way to say “my throat and my va-jay-jay are in pain with the same caliber of the fire of a thousand suns” so you say it, just like that. No shame. None.

After the usual question asking, poking, and prodding the nurses flip your paper over to get the results of the tinkle sample and immediately their eyes burst right out of their heads and they begin speaking in lingo that can only mean one thing: you’re on death’s door.

Really now, the nurses are alarmed that you are a diabetic and you have these super high scores of glucose, fructose, sucrose, your mama, whatever. With head hung low because it feels like it’s in a bubble, you explain that you may have had a bit too much vino during the weekend. By a bit too much you mean a helluva a lot that left you craving greasy fast-food for breakfast to sop up what was left of you. Oh, and no, you’re not a college student but thanks for asking. Oh, and don’t forget that orange juice! You had tons of orange juice. So, um, no you’re probably not a diabetic and also do not need a referral to AA.

Eyebrows will raise.

You’ll continue to explain that your body is only used to black coffee, water, and a little milk because duh! you gave up soda for Lent so why for the love of all that is good in this world do you get a bladder infection now? Huh? Tell me that!

With prescription in hand and a demand to stay home from work you skip slug off to Target to get the goods. You may tinkle your pants when you find you itty bitty medicine is fifty four American dollars. Well, that or the bladder infection who is keeping up now anyway?

You’ll go home and pray for death but death will not find you. After some chicken soup you work for the afternoon because son of a Southern man you’re not taking a day off of work to be “sick”. Clearly your days off are for beach trips, city excursions, or mental health days full of bargain shopping. You take the dog for a jaunt around the neighborhood since the weather is in the seventies. Lovely weather while you’re under the weather, thanks Murphy.

You may also find that all of this happens during a week when you cannot hide in your bed and escape the world. Oh, no, no! You have two shifts of four hours each to prepare for a fundraiser for the JL. You also have the Patron’s Party to attend on Friday night for above event. And don’t forget about the early morning sorority alumni meeting on Saturday, followed by a tea party for the girls who are graduating the collegiate chapter.

I’m just saying. You know. It could happen to you! I’d be careful. Murphy is on the loose rampage!

Happy Birthday Mackipoo

Our pooch is two years old today. We adopted him nearly 8 months ago. The calm, timid, meek, docile little creature we met at the rescue is actually a colorful mix of crazy.

Yes I made him a special party hat, did you expect anything less? He's not a super fan of things on his head so J had to hold it there while I snapped a quick picture. He much more prefers eating the party hat, as illustrated below.

Our little family will celebrate tonight with hamburgers, because that is Mack's favorite dish. He'll have his own burger with cheese and perhaps a little peanut butter for dessert.

He's one spoiled pooch with some great birthday loot. We got him a jolly roger collar, because nothing says preppy bad ass like a jolly roger collar, and that's exactly what he is. He also got a new t-shirt that says "Tough Guy" which I find hilarious because he's, um, well, not. I wanted to get the one that read "Lover not a Biter" but that's a lie and Mack is nothing if not honest.

Lastly, J picked up a big bone for him. Big. Two-feet long big, so roughly the size of the pooch. Hopefully he'll chew on that for a while and it will entertain him on weekend mornings when we would enjoy sleeping past 6 am.

Speaking of chewing, let's review what the Mackipoo has eaten this week:

• a disposable razor
• the lid to a bottle of happy perfume
• twenty-five dollars
• a hairbow
• strings of thread dug out of the vacuum
• coupons
• sticky paper (for sewing/monogramming use)
• the tail to my beloved Eeyore (of which I barely saved)

Strange that he's not intersted in his puppy food.

The one post week

I'm a headless chicken this week.

I've been busy finishing up sewing and monogramming projects that need to be done as well as hemming the husband's pants.

In addition, I've been making my house spotless because the M Bed & Breakfast is open for business this weekend. The O's will arrive Friday evening to stay with us through Sunday. I've also decided to throw a little wine and dessert gathering Friday night for five couples (butter pecan bundt cake, strawberry cake with cream cheese icing and fresh berries, brownies, cookies, fruit and dip, FYI). And if that's not enough to make me one crazy banchee I got and throw a small dinner part for 6 on Saturday, stuffed pork tenderloin, broasted red potatoes, salad, bread, and dessert, if you're wondering. Recap: guests all weekend, wine and dessert gathering for 10 on Friday, and dinner party for 6 on Saturday.

So I suppose I'll be going to the grocery store tomorrow.

By the way, Addy, will you be swinging by this weekend? There's gonna be food and wine (see above!).

Work has kept me slightly stressed this week. We currently don't have a web/graphic designer so guess who does ads? That's the marketing department. Oh right, I am the marketing department. I'm creative, I can come up with new and fresh ideas, I can layout an ad or marketing piece, I can edit and change made pieces, but a designer I am not. I may have lead them to believe a lot of things, but my being a design guru was not one of them.

That said my VP loved my ad and raved on the good job I did. Great! Now he's going to expect that of me more. Seriously, it was a small ad and not that hard, but it took me nearly two whole days. If it were a large ad it would be a train wreck. Ugh!

Enough about work.

Oh, so get this. I went to the shoe shop earlier this week to drop off one of my black boots. Apparently this little incident compromised one of my heels. It wasn't broken, but it was weaker and I didn't want it to break. As if I'm not graceful enough I can see my heel breaking while I'm out in the rain a mile from my car in a dress and tall boots. Why? Because that's my life. Anyway, as I was leaving the guy (an older grandfather like fellow) called after me "wow, you have such beautiful hair." You could have knocked me over with a feather. Now I like my hair ok, it's served me well for, errr, 21 years (who's counting really?) but it's never been what I'd call beautiful. It's grown a lot and it seems that long hair is usually prettier, but mine is also fine and limp and although I feel it looks fairly nice as I leave my bathroom vanity of the morning, it's usually a hot mess by the time I reach work. No matter my hairstyle, it doesn't hold style very well. So in short, my hair is nervous about returning to the shoe shop tomorrow, it has a lot to live up to now.




I woke up to this outside my door this morning. Isn't it pretty? It will probably last for at least 30 minutes!

Since I'm sparse this week, check out updates on The Bargainista:

Our little cottage covered in snow (left) and Pooch not sure of what to think about his new snow beard (right).

Since I'm sparse here this week, go check out the new goodness at The Bargainista:

• Nancy's shoes


• Ribbon Ballet Flats


• Hiking/Camping Backpack


• Ralph Lauren Jacket


• L.L. Bean Vest


• Home goodies


• My current need

Happy Reading!

The New Headboard

I purchased these lovely antique windows nearly two years ago at an estate sale. I had a vision of making them a headboard by mounting them to the wall and tying up ribbon to give the illusion that they were hanging by the ribbon. My husband took it a step further and decided to build a frame to give it a more prominant headboard-esque look.

I used remnant fabric that was coordinating and repeating in the room to fill in the panes for a rich, textured look with a little more interest and personality. I love the paisley I found. It's the perfect color of blue and gives me the touch of paisley without making my husband want to gag. The stripes are left over from the balloon shades I made for the room. I found the toile and gingham to finish it off with a cottage chic and elegant look.

Isn’t it pretty? It’s going to look great in the master bedroom redo. Look forward to the full report on that next week.

Seven random things you didn't know about me and are really curious to know.

Addy tagged me sometime this year to do a seven random, new, interesting, etc. things about me that you didn’t know.

1. My family has a greyhound farm, as in the dogs, not the buses. My Pappy and his brother raise and race greyhound dogs. It used to be quite a profitable business but now I think it’s more of a hobby. However, I’m happy that my Pappy is able to participate in all of this in his 70s. Therefore, long live the farm!


2. I don’t have plain socks. I’m far too festive for plain, white socks. All of my socks have prints such as argyle, polka dots, stripes, etc. They only solid white socks I own are the little anklets to wear with sneakers and even then they have the Polo or Gap logo in a pretty color. However, I still have festive anklets.



(Lest you think I lied about the Brandon Walsh socks! How are these copyright 2007??)


3. If you see me next to my biological mother, I look just like her. If you see me next to my biological father, I look just like him. I have a relationship with neither but there is no way they can deny me. Although I don’t like looking so much like them (both) they did make a damn good looking daughter.


4. I have some nasty scars on my knees and legs from a highly vicious and competitive game of Mud Bowl with my sorority sisters. They will forever remind me that Addy, Mrs. S, and I threw punches and rolled in mud while frat boys drank beer. I know, WTH? This is definitely another post for another time. No, wait. That is the gist of it. Right there. Um, but the money was for philanthropy?


5. I went to the Eye Doctor to day, a new one, and she wanted to dilate my pupils for a thorough examination. I got light headed and queasy. I have lab coat syndrome and blatant wimpiness to the nth degree!


6. My entire young life I wished to attend a private school where I could wear plaid jumpers, knee-socks, and penny loafers. I wanted to ride horses after school and attend book clubs. Unfortunately I grew up in the sticks and such things as this didn’t exist. I was, in fact, completely opposite of this. The rednecks rode their tractors to school ( I wish I was making this up) and I was a cheerleader. I hope my kids never want to be cheerleaders.


7. I try my best to make my husband have a three-step face regime so that his young, beautiful skin will stay young and beautiful. Despite finding very manly products he won’t give in and participate. I’m sure posting this here will not help my agenda whatsoever.
   
   Go ahead…play along.

Switch it. Change it. Rearrange it.

I think I just might make some changes around here and jump ship. I’ve went through all of my old entries via keywords and searching to change names, places, etc. so that I feel I’ve sufficiently protected the privacy of myself, my family, and my friends and now can return to a public blog like the hussy I am! I have a family friendly blog that, go figure, I share with our family and friends, with real names and not nearly as fun stories as it’s totally PG. I just can’t tell them everything I tell you Internet. Nosiree. We have secrets between the two of us.

I’ve decided I’d like to be a public hussy under a new pseudonym rather than The Mrs. M, bless her heart. Since this blog address was once published among the ranks of those who know me I feel The Mrs. M can only be a half-way hussy in a public world and well, what fun is a half-way hussy? None at all I’ll tell ya!

I’ve pondered and pondered a new name and although I have a few ideas, I thought I’d ask the experts. That’s you!

So if you were to name me oh wise Internets, what would you name me? My blog reflects a wide spectrum of topics from being a Southern Belle, to my love for all things pink and frilly and girly, to how I could be perfectly happy on a lifelong diet of wine and cheese (and green beans and brownies), to how I’d monogram the world and make it a better place because that would totally work, to being too crafty for my own good, to hypothetically tinkling in my pants but literally tinkling on my pants, and now, the half-way hussy.

So basically, I’ve got more personalities than a three-ring circus.

What do you name one as complex yet as simple as I?

The most exciting part of our weekend.

Oh Internets, we didn’t something great this weekend! Do you want to guess what it was? Sure you do so here we go.

Friday night J’s parents came to town and took us to dinner at one of our very favorite restaurants and also brought us loads of candy, dark chocolate, homemade and baked goods.

Was this the most exciting part of our weekend?

No.

Saturday night we were guests of a fabulous wedding that I’m estimating has a price tag pushing 40 grand. The ceremony was in a cute little chapel of a very large local church and the reception was at one of the swankiest country clubs in town. And MyTown has a lot of country clubs considering it’s not that large. This could be my favorite local reception site. And you know what was at the reception? An open bar. All night! Oh the delight of the wine tasting that evening. There was a live band. There were butler passed hors devours. There was some scrumptious food and not to mention the largest display and variety of cubed cheeses I’d ever seen. You know how much I love my cheese! There was also a candy bar. As in dozens of jars filled with all types of candies from m&ms, jelly beans, red hots, Hershey kisses, skittles, gumballs, etc. In a basket were cute little candy sacks with the couples monogram. And we were allowed to take one of those darling little candy sacks and fill up to our little hearts delight! I felt like one of those kids in the old school version of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. Remember where they all run in the candy shop and he’s singing the “Candy Man” song and throwing all sorts of goodies at them and they’re all reaching in jars…….

Was this the most exciting part of our weekend?

No.

After much debate and search J and I found the perfect area rug for our den. It also happened to be half off! You know how a good deal makes me tinkle in my pants a bit. (Check out The Bargainista this week for full details!)

Was this the most exciting part of our weekend?

No.

I found the perfect color combination of paisley on some cute little storage bins for our bedside in my master bedroom redo. I love me some paisley and this was the perfect compliment to the other patterns and colors and also wasn’t too much that Hubs wanted to vomit. These fabulous little ditties had been marked down from $16.99 to only $6.79 each! (These will be featured on The Bargainista as well!).

Was this the most exciting part of our weekend?

No.

Sunday J and I tried out a new church. Our current/previous church is fabulous, really it is. The pastors, worship, and services are amazing. We were also part of a great Sunday school class full of about 50 other couples who had been married for about 5 or less years. That said, we just weren’t feeling it lately. We didn’t have the time and schedule to fit into a small group and that is nearly the only option for breaking things down on a more personal level. Lucky for us, we live on Holy Road and have a handful of very large and nice churches to choose from. There are two we planned on trying and the first was a very charming church on the corner that has a large playground, which to me says lots of programs, activities, and family things, and also a full sized gym to which I’d been in for a craft fair. The website was great and seemed to have plenty going on so we tried it out, a little skeptical as it’s a denomination that neither of us is accustomed to, but it was great. Hubs and I both really enjoyed it and the people were very nice and friendly. It was rather large, but still only about a quarter of the church we came from. Everyone seemed to spot us as new people. With Hubs being 6 foot three and bald, he stands out in a crowd. We’re going to return next week and try out Sunday school. Also, they have Wednesday night connection activities in which there is dinner served. Mmm! Mmm! There is nothing better than church lady food. Unfortunately we probably won’t get to attend very often with work schedules. This church is the same proximity from our house as the former one (about 2 miles) and we still plan to attend special events at the former, such as the Marriage Conference coming up in March.

Was this the most exciting part of our weekend?

No.

After church we went to our favorite Mexican restaurant for lunch. It had been a whole two weeks since we’d been there and they were beginning to worry about us. Not to mention concern for their margarita sales! We both branched out and explored new menu options and both were delightful. The staff had a little party and did a little dance they’d missed us so much. I think tears were shed by all parties.

Was this the most exciting part of our weekend?

No.

J and I finally bought a brand-spanking-new broom, with fancy matching super duper dust pan no less, since we were using the reject that Addy gave me when we moved out of the Historic WC because it wasn’t worth her packing and moving as it kinda sucked then so it really sucked now, nearly four years later. (Ohmygoodness how has it been four years?).

Yes!

That was the most exciting part of our weekend. It really is the little things.

Monogrammed Dishes

I’m sure my faithful and loyal readers aren’t surprised by my monogramming anything at all. This time, I’ve monogrammed dishes. I think I posted on here about the Buffalo China I received that came out of a very old church. I had 17 plates with cups and saucers. They were so simple, elegant, classy, and can be used for so many occasions, but they needed something still. That something was a monogram! So I painted an M on the rim of each plate. Still simple, still elegant, still classy, and now with more personality. I plan on using these for a variety of occasions; bunco night, tea parties, brunches, showers, etc.

These were super easy to create. I bought food safe paint at a local craft store. I painted the letter, let it dry for 24 hours, then baked it for 30 minutes to set the design and make it food and dishwasher safe. Anyone can do this.

I have a few other projects like this up my sleeve, too. Can you stand the anticipation?

Spread the Love

It’s Valentine’s Day, not a bit deal in the M house. We will celebrate by having fondue at home (cheese with dippers and garlic beer broth with dippers), per our tradition developed over the past years. We always have chocolate covered goodness too. I started with just strawberries and had some left. So I did marshmallows and graham crackers. But there was still chocolate left. I tossed in a couple handfuls of pretzels and pecans, swirled it all around made all the goodness I could stand. It should last through tonight for a week. Being that my love language is quality-time, having my husband’s complete and undivided attention for a long, leisurely dinner will totally make my day! Especially since school has been really rough this semester and he has to spend a great deal of time studying.

(Notice the missing strawberry, it was quality control, really it was!)

Although we at the M house are low-key, our niece Pie had a big day! She had her first date, at the ripe old age of two and a half! Her boyfriend picked her up and brought her a flower before his mama drove them to McDonald’s for a romantic lunch of chicken nuggets followed by some love for the indoor playplace.

It makes me think of a little song:

“He showed up and took me by the hand, his mama drove us in her caravan and that’s alright with me.”

I’m not a huge Valentine’s Day fan in the traditional sense. It seems to be an occasion where everyone who is single needs to feel sad and lonely about not having a “Valentine.” Why does Valentine’s Day have to be about romantic love? Why not use this time to show everyone you love them. That said, I feel that J and I show we love each other everyday, as well as showing our family and friends everyday. While I don’t feel that one day is necessary to get all the love out, it can be a good occasion to stop and think how you can spread the love.

J and I have discussed options of things we can do today rather than give each other flowers, candy, and cheesy stuff animals. We discussed making a donation to our local community ministry for the homeless. Less than two dollars helps someone eat for like a week! This is a ministry we really believe in and support often. Other charities to spread the love to could be your local Salvation Army or Habitat for Humanity. If you don’t have the extra cash to donate, volunteer your time. Homeless shelters are often looking for volunteers to help serve meals, charity thrift-stores need volunteers to assist with daily retail duties, and you can always take your hammer and hardhat to the construction site. If that’s not your thing, consider donating clothes you no longer wear but that are in good condition to a women’s shelter. This take very little time and energy and now money is involved.

I’ve also been praying about sponsoring a child. I’ve always known I wanted to do this once I have children. I think it would be a neat way to show my thankfulness for my child by assisting another in need as well as teaching my child about giving-back, being grateful, and how to pray for our sponsored child. I’ve been following a special mission trip to Uganda made by fellows Bloggers and I’m feeling the urge that I might want to sponsor now. They are ministering to the residents of Uganda and raising awareness for Compassion International. It seems so real to see their pictures and read their stories. Previously I wondered if it really was that bad or if just the most pathetic photos ever were being shown. When I think about doing it I wonder if we should do more domestically than internationally. But by sponsoring a child you can help give them an education, life skills, and prepare them for a bright future that will ultimately assist in reducing the situations in these countries drastically. In addition they are learning the Bible with many of them becoming followers of Christ.

Anyway, as you can see I have a bit more soul-searching and praying on this subject as well as discussion with my husband.

My Valentine wish for you is that you'll use everyday to let your significant other, family, and friends know that you love them and use Valentine’s Day as a reminder to reach out and show a little extra love in whatever way is closest to your heart.

Craigslist

Are there any other craigslist fans out there? The M house just loves craigslist where the bargains are just waiting to be found. J checks it religiously everyday just to see what is there whether we need it or not. We’ve bought and sold tons of items on this site.

Bought: china cabinet, tables and chairs, wrought iron patio furniture, vanity and mirror for the new bath.

Sold: golf clubs, roller skates, dishes, Dell laptop, 4 pc. bedroom suite, entertainment center, toilet (that’s a good story!), Broyhill desk, and a few miscellaneous items.

My old dishes sold for $125 which nearly paid for my new dishes. Isn’t that a sweet deal?

If you don’t use craigslist, you need to check it out. Go to craigslist.org, find your city, and start browsing. In order to post you just need to sign up for an account. It’s very basic and user-friendly and best of all FREE to buy and sell.

Any other craigslisters? You down front, you look awfully excited about craigslist. Did you just tinkle your pants?

Because I feel we're close enough to share this

Internet, I know you can keep a secret, so that's why I feel I can share this story with you. Well, that and because I have a profound ability to laugh at myself.

J and I were driving north Friday evening when I requested a potty break. He has become accustomed to my baby-bladder even if it makes him crazy. I'd crossed my legs and jiggled for about and hour and couldn't take it anymore.

I race inside the fast food joint and into the ladies' room. There is one stall open that no one would use because there was tinkle on the seat. Well I'm not playing games here so I go inside, wipe it off, get the hand sanitizer out of my trusty bag and squirt it all over the seat, and clean the potty seat.

Still I didn't want to actually sit on the seat, so I hover. I'm sure you're aware of the firm stance of power thighs with feet shoulder width apart, arms on the walls for optimum balance, and purse hanging around your neck because it shall not touch the floor!

I assumed the postion and tinkled. And tinkled. And tinkled, and tinkled, and tinkled. I began to get weak about 10 minutes into the power tinkling (I'd had 60 oz of water, 2 cups of coffee, and a shot of orange juice that day).


I felt something warm on my calf. I finished tinkling to realize that I'd tinkled on my leg! Yes, me being the ever-present epitome of grace managed to tinkle on my right calf whilst hovering during the marathon tinkling session.


So I walked out of the stall, threw my leg in the sink and rinsed my jeans. Then on the way to the car through laughter and tears I told my darling hubby what happend.

"You see darling, what ha-happened wuz....."

He rolled his eyes but got me the yoga pants from my bag and I changed in the car.

Then we left, but not before I purchased a 32 ounce iced tea. Hey, I was parched after relieving my bladder.