Why Snow Sucks

Winter is here and it's been a whopper.  Lots of freezing temps and lots of snow.  During the holidays I thought to myself, "Oh I hope it snows for Christmas.  Snow is so pretty".  Well it did snow and hasn't stopped.

Snow is not so pretty anymore.  It's freezing, slushy, heavy and wet.

Snow is very cold on my bare feet while running down the block in my pajamas chasing my dog who escaped through an unlocked gate.

Snow makes a very loud thump when it slides off my roof scaring the hell out of my dad.  He thought someone was trying to break into the house and had his 44 ready and loaded.

Snow hides icy alleys.  When I chased Wilbur down the alley this evening (another escape) I hit an icy patch, flew two feet into the air and landed very hard on my ass only to have to get right back up and continue the chase.

It's very hard to carry a 50 pound dog down an alley and back home in a foot of snow.

Cars get stuck in snow when pulling out of my garage.  They get stuck so bad I have to call my dad to maneuver while I shovel and shovel and shovel.  It's a lot of hard work to dig my car out and especially very stressful when Wilbur keeps escaping down the icy alley.

Snow causes my car to get stuck and me to miss meetings.

I cannot drive my car up an icy ramp.  It just keeps sliding down - backwards.

Have you ever tried to keep a kitchen floor clean when there is snow outside?  Don't.

Ever try to find a pile of your dogs poop in the yard after it snows?  I can't, until I step in it or when shoveling I hit something "hard, frozen and very stuck" to the sidewalk.

The mail man will not deliver my mail if he cannot see my stairs.

The mail man cannot see my stairs if I don't shovel them.

I don't like shoveling.

I don't get mail sometimes.

Next year, I hope it doesn't snow for Christmas.  I hope it's sunny and 70 degrees.

Snow Sucks.

Small Graces

I was on face book today and posted a comment about having a warm house to "cloister into".  Here in NW Indiana the wind is whipping, the wind chill is below zero and snow is coming!  I ended that post with the comment, "small graces".

Small Graces.  It's a simple phrase but a strong truth that sustains a lot of us who struggle in this every day life of ours.  I don't think it matters if we are rich or poor.  Simple "small graces" sometimes sustain the wealthiest, healthiest and wisest of us all.  My small graces are...

Past Memories:  Sometimes they sustain me.  I close my eyes at night and can let my mind take me on a flight back into some wonderful childhood and adult memories that are my mother.  She has been gone since Oct 2010 but my past memories allow me to still hear her voice and re-live moments in time spent with her.  Mom teaching me to tie my red Ked shoe laces. I am brought back to the smell of her food cooking on the stove, the sound of her voice and the feel of her fingertips stroking my hair as I lie next to her on a soft down comforter.  It's all good, it's all real and it's all comforting.  I miss my mother so very much but my memories of her keep  her alive.

Present Times:  I am present here and now and acknowledge that some things suck and some things are wonderful.  The things that suck can be changed with "some distraction and stress"-- crappy job, dirty house, weight, etc... these are challenges that come with being human.  The things that are wonderful are the things that really count to me--my relationship with Mike is wonderful, vacation coming up, I own a home and car to get around and my dad and kids are healthy and........Well, who cares after "my dad and kids are healthy".  That's all that really counts.

My Future:  I have hope that my future holds whatever I want it to hold.  I know I have the power to change what I want although I don't know if I have the will or strength to change it. I am smart enough to accept that the future is mine and I have the power to OWN it and change it.  That knowledge, alone, lends me a lot of comfort.

So I guess I am lucky to "cloister into" this imperfect but perfect life of mine.  It could be better but  I know for sure, It could be a hell of a lot worse.  So, I'll take it, cloister in and be thankful for the small graces that somehow, someway, sometimes go UN-noticed in life.

Being Thankful

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone.  Today I am posting random things that come into my head for which I am Thankful.  Here goes...

I am Thankful:

1. For the wonderful childhood I had.  I always felt secure and loved thanks to my mom, dad and big bully brother.

2.  That I grew up in a "hippie" house hold with parents who didn't judge too harshly.  They just wanted me to be kind and fair.   ALL of my friends were welcomed in my home no matter race or religion they were (and that wasn't too popular in the 60's and 70's) .  As long as we were kind and walked to the beat of our own drums is all that mattered to my mom and dad. My parents didn't fit in at all with the "perfect parent click" but they were by far the most loved and respected.

3.  My kids.  The hardest, unselfish, rewarding thing I worked for here on earth.  I love them immensely and my pride in them cannot be expressed in words.

4.  Having my mothers strength as a woman.  And stubbornness.

5. My Dad.  He is stronger than I ever knew and I will always be his little girl.  Every day I know he loves me.

6.  Mike. Without his love and loving him I couldn't be happy in this life.  He is perfect for me in every way.  I hope to grow very old with him.

7.  Wilbur.  I name him last because the little pup has given nothing but unconditional love and trust.  He has been this families "miracle" and even though he's just a dog....we love and are Thankful for him every single day.

Fire in the Hole!

Since my dad moved into the apartment above my house I can honestly say that I've been entertained and every day is an adventure. 

Before I head off to work, I always go upstairs to tell dad that I'm leaving.  Usually he's sitting in his Archie Bunker chair watching an old time classic movie on AMC puffing away on a Pall Mall Red 100, Wilbur sprawled out on the floor at his feet.

The other day, I went up to bid dad farewell and as I entered his apartment I could see it was filled with smoke.  Not a thick smoke, but a "something ain't right" smoke.  Something was burning. At first I thought maybe dad had something in the the oven or toaster.  Nope.

"Dad! What's burning?", I called out.  Dad appears from his bedroom totally unaware that anything is wrong.   "What are you talking about?  Is something burning?" he asks.

"Dad!  You entire apartment is filled with smoke and I SMELL something burning!!  Don't you see or smell it?"   I'm now looking for the source of smoke  frantically searching from room to room and dad has his head in the fridge searching for a piece of ham.

"Oh, yea.  Now I smell something", dad replies as he slowly saunders onto his back porch and picks up a black garbage bag.  "It's probably something in here", then he puts the bag back down and starts walking back into the kitchen.

"Dad! If you think it's in THERE then why the hell don't you get it out of here" I grab the bag tear it open and  realize that nothing is burning in it.

As dad opens the fridge to grab another piece of ham, I slam the door shut on him.  I'm panicked.  I run into his living room and there, next to his Archie Bunker chair is a plastic garbage can on fire.  Of course dad is still in the kitchen.  "Dad!  Your fricking garbage can is on fire!  Did you dump your ashtray in here?!"

Dad's eyeballs nearly popped out of his head when he saw me enter the kitchen with the garbage can in flames.  "Holy Shit!  The garbage can is on fire!"  I could see the panic in his face now.   Dad turned on the kitchen faucet and I doused the flames.

 "Geez Chrissa, I'm so sorry.  I'll never dump an ashtray like that again.  I'm so sorry" dad kept saying over and over again.  I could tell he was scared now, realizing the seriousness of what had happened, he was embarrassed and ashamed.  I just shook my head and laughed, "What a Polak!" I said as I leaned in to give him a big hug.  That's what everyone who loves him calls my dad...The Polak... and he loves it because he's proud to be Polish.

The story has a happy ending.  My house is still standing, dad's not dumping ashtrays in garbage cans anymore and now when I enter his apartment I announce, "Fire in the Hole!" and he responds "Fuck you!"

Never a dull moment with dad around.

Desperate Dishwasher

About three weeks ago my dishwasher door broke. Well, the handle broke. No,no... the little thingy-dingy inside the handle that clicks the door shut broke. Whatever! The point is that I haven't been able to use my dishwasher and have been slaving over a soapy sink. Being the diligent dishwasher that I am, dishes have been piling up, up, up and fruit flies have been a-swarming. I'm cooking less (and I do love to cook) because I don't wanna do no friggin' dishes.

This morning I tumbled out of bed and went directly to the coffee pot to make a fresh pot of brew. Well, guess what? Due to a pile of dirty dishes in my sink I could not fit the coffee pot under the faucet to fill it. No way in hell was I going to do the mother-fuc*&^ing dishes first thing in the morning, BEFORE my first cup of coffee. I jiggled the dishwasher door handle - no luck. I squeeeezed, pulled and kicked the door - no luck. I pried the handle with a dirty butter knife - LUCK!!! The door popped open - never to lock shut again.

I piled every last dirty dish into that dishwasher. Piled them in so full that the top shelf was bowing down. Then, I shut the door. It flopped open. I shut the door again. It flopped open again. "Oh no, you monster...you will NOT win this fight!". I shut the door, held it shut and turned that sucker on. I could hear it filling with water and then start to swish those dishes clean. The only thing was, I was stuck there holding the door shut watching water leak onto my floor when my arm got tired. Then I got an idea. I propped the door shut with two chairs and stuck a towel under the dishwasher just in case.

Michael came into the kitchen, took one look, shook his head and said, "You've GOT to take a picture of that." I did. Then we went dishwasher shopping on the web. I found one but haven't ordered it yet. The chairs will do for a little longer!

My dishes are clean!

It's a Dog's Life

Wilbur a.k.a Sir Spoiled-A-Lot spent a very relaxing morning napping in the remains of my garden. That translates to "Wilbur was napping in dirt and rotten tomatoes".

A few days ago he had a bath.

I enjoy just letting him be a dog no matter how dirty he gets right after a bath.

It's a dog's life, isn't it?

It's Been a Long Time...

It's been a long time.

A long time since I've written in this blog.

A long time since I've worked.

A long time since my mom has died.

It's been a looooooooooooong time.

Even though it's been a long time I feel like I'm just starting to get back into the swing of things.

I was numb for awhile. Sitting, thinking, analyzing and wondering. A lot of just staring to be honest.

Have you ever just stared? Mind blank, body numb, eyes dull, ears ringing and hearing the t.v. somewhere off in the distance? I did. I was in a dazed and confused sort of state. I'm coming out of it now and it feels good to jump back into reality or ....jump into life.

So my jump back into life is like standing on a hot rock, holding onto a rope, swinging myself into the air towards a very cold creek and letting go. As my body sinks deep into the cold water I feel scared but invigorated. I feel the fight rippling through my body. I know I'll fight my way up from the bottom of the creek and soon suck in fresh air, look up to the clouds and know there is hope for a new beginning.

I had my first interview today.

It was good.

Peace and love to all.

Life is good.

Foster Mama

I've adopted and have been fostering Beagles (and one Coon Hound) for the past six months. It's been an adventure, that's for sure. An an adventure that I think Thelma, my old, black, cat has been enjoying immensely. She seems to love taking control of this castle and the dogs. She hisses, chases, meows and swats these dogs into submission and I must admit it's fun to watch.

After I made my decision to start fostering it didn't take long (about 2 days) before I got my first little beagle, Pearl. Of course she wasn't a NORMAL dog...ohhhhh nooooooooo, that would be much too "normal" for me! I got Pearl. Poor, scared-of-her-own-shadow, abused, Pearl. At first, Pearl spent 90% of her time in the corner of the crate; head burrowed down into a blanket hoping the world didn't know she was there. I didn't force her in the crate but that's where she felt safe. I left the door open at all times. It took me two solid weeks to gain Pearls trust and finally she put her two front paws out of the crate so I could pet her. After three weeks, she gathered enough courage to sneak out of the crate at night and steal the cats food dish. After a month, she would come out of the crate and was brave enough to actually come to me, Mike and my Dad. Finally, a family came to visit Pearl, instantly fell in love with her sorrowful soul and she was adopted. I was so sad to let her go but I was happy that she had a forever home.

After Pearl, I got Wilbur. Wilbur is a Lemon Beagle (mostly white with tan spots) who looks like beagle/basset hound mix. Short, stumpy legs, squishy face, long, soft ears and irresistable golden, sad eyes. I named him Wibur because when he's happy, eating or sleeping he snorts just like the little piggy in Charlotte' Web. He snorts A LOT....but I love, love, love his snorts. Wilbur is a sucker for mashed potatoes. After two days I knew just HAD to adopt him. When the lady from the rescue place would call me to say she that had someone who wanted to see him for possible adoption I wouldn't call her back! Wilbur is a cuddler, smoochable, mellow and just a lovable dog. I love his squishy little face and puppy breath. He's my little ray of loveable, huggable, sunshine and now, he's mine...forever. I'm so, so happy to have him in my life.

After I adopted will I got Dugger. He's a Pocket Beagle, which are very small beagles in size but not in personality. I was kind of worried about how Wilbur would respond to another dog in the house but Wilbur didn't disappoint me and was a very fine host. Wilbur liked Dugger and Dugger liked Wilbur. Dugger wasn't shy at all. He instantly formed a bond with Mike, Dad and my son Ian. Those three guys, really "dug" Dugger. Dad just couldn't keep away from him and Dugger just loved my Dad right back. Wilbur and Dugger would hang out in the yard and Dugger ran circles around my lazy little Wilbur-barking and jumping and begging Will to play but Wilbur only played...dead. Stop, drop and flop ---that's Wilbur. Dugger would go upstairs, climb up on my dad's lap and hang out with him all day long. Dad loved Dugger. After two weeks we got a call that a couple wanted to meet "The Dug". They came with their Greyhound, they saw, the man put Dugger in his pocket, and they adopted him. Yay for Dugger....Boo-Hoo for Dad.

For about two days, I had a coon-hound, Daphne. THAT dog was frickin' crazy! She was big, strong and in LOOOOOOOOOOOVE with Wilbur. Wilbur did not reciprocate the love so she would lean on him and pin him against the wall. Poor Wilbur would snort, try to get away and look at me with his sorrowful, pleading eyes "help me, mama". Daphne never laid down, she would stand and stare at Wilbur and nudge him with her nose while he tried to sleep. I felt so sorry for him. Thankfully, Daphne was only with us for two days. I always tell dad that Daphne reminded me of the movie Fatal Attaction. Daphne was fatally attracted to Wilbur and she stalked him. I think if she were here longer and he kept rejecting her...well, she might have "killed" his stuffed bunny toy and put it's head next to him. He survived, thank goodness and then he fell in L-O-V-E with....

My current foster, GiGi Girl. Oh Gigi! When she first came in my door she growled. I was assured that it was a "scared" growl and they were right. Poor Gigi Girl was so neglected and abused in her past that her only form of trying to protect herself was to growl. Wilbur LOVED her instantly and so did I. Gigi is a very gentle soul. She loves her belly scratched. Her first day here Wilbur sniffed, snuggled, cuddled, tried to play and slept by Gigi. I was so PROUD of him for being so nice to her because she seemed to really like him too. On day two, Wilbur tried to do the humpty-doo with her and I thought it was so cute. "Wilbur has a girlfriend, Wilbur has a girlfriend". Wilbur is fixed so I didn't know that fixed does NOT eliminate the "I wanna screw you" feeling. It didn't take long for me to figure out that Wilbur wanted to "do it" with Gigi. She was rubbing her butt in his face all of the time. I found out shortly that "Gigi was just coming out of heat." Ohhhhhh Shit. I have never seen Wilbur want to go outside as much as he did with Gigi! He was in "hump" mode. I SAW his "lipstick" and it's something to talk about!! After two days, Wilburs tongue was hangin' to it's side, he got so excited that he peed on the guest bed. That was it for me! I called and said...."This dog is in HEAT! I can't have her here because Wilbur is acting like a horny old fool! I'm going NUTS!!" Then Dad stepped in and said that I couldn't do that to Gigi. He said she had been thrown around tooooo long and that he'd keep her upstairs until "it" passed. Thank goodness for dad because they were gonna put Gigi in a kennel again! It passed after three days. Wilbur could care less about having his way with Gigi and the feeling is mutual. However, Wilbur and Gigi are definately bestest of friends. She cleans his ears and eyes and he musters enough energy to actually PLAY with her. They snuggle and sleep together. Wilbur even shares his food with her. I think they are in love. Gigi follows me around and wags her tail. She's loves to play and fetch a ball. She's the funnest dog I've had yet and she's a cuddler too. We all love her....but not as much as Wilbur does. She'll be missed once she's adopted....someday ;)

Dad's Cinderella

I woke up this morning and trudged upstairs to dad's apartment in my pajamas, poured a cup of java and plopped on his couch. This has become my morning ritual. Every morning, Dad and I sipping coffee, watching the morning news and making small talk. Wilbur my lemon beagle, is right beside us.

I noticed things looked a bit dusty and the carpets were covered in MY dogs fur. Dad is 74 and suffers terribly from arthritis. He keeps his place organized but that "deep cleaning" stuff is very diffucult for him although he does do it. But today, I did it!

I gave dads apartment a deep cleaning.

I dusted all his furniture, changed his sheets, vacuumed, cleaned his kitchen and bathroom and washed all his floors. It felt so good to do that for him and he was humbly happy about it. My ambition caught on and dad washed all his garbage cans out and even put a new toilet seat on his toilet. It was great and fun team work.

As I sit at the computer typing this blog, Dad is upstairs in his clean apartment making a pot roast. I'm sure there are carrot and onion peels all over the clean kitchen floor and the counters are a mess. But, I don't care. I just care, that he's a happy cook in a clean kitchen.

Turning 47...

Tomorrow I turn the big 47. Ugh! 47 is old. 47 is almost over-the hill.

Mom invited me over for dinner. I'm so glad to say that at 47 I still have my mom around. She (as I have said in past posts) is my "greatest fan".

Mom made a wonderful meal to celebrate my birthday. Leg of Lamb, deeeee-lish Greek, roasted potatoes, home-made creamed spinach to-die-f0r and a maaaaavelous salad with home-made dressing. Not only that, momma also made a chocolate truffle cheese cake FROM SCRATCH! Yea! She's The Bomb! She threw the best party that a girl could ever ask for! Mom threw me a SURPRISE PARTY! Thanks Mom!

On top of that, I also got the weirdest gift from her. An egg-cooker. Yes folks, I said an EGG COOKER. According to mom, it make the most perfect egg. LOL! A weird gift indeed! But at 47, who gives a rats ass!!! I loved it and it made me smile and laugh. Maybe I'll finally cook a "perfect" egg! We're always looking for that "perfect egg" in life, aren't we?

I've accomplished a lot in these 47 years. I had a pretty good childhood, survived my awkward and sometimes painful teenage years, got married at twenty and raised three kids. They are good kids. I like them (most of the time) now that they are adults. I've been to school, got me educated, worked a few jobs, made a few friends and fell in and out and back in love.

But most of all I have found that in every day of living there is learning. Learning more about myself, being comfortable with who I am and who I choose to be.

I am more comfortable now, then ever, accepting myself for who I am.

I am caring. I am loving. I have made mistakes. I am an enthusiastic cook. I am a hidden artist. I am silly. I am a good daughter. I am a good mother. I am intuitive. I don't respond well to authority figures. I am independient. I am not serious when I need to be. I pull away when I shouldn't. I am a home-body. I am not confident. I am sometimes a loner. I am dedicated. I take silent critism seriously. I'll take on any challenge if I am challenged. I am nostalgic. I am a peace keeper. I am my worst critic. I am proud.

But most of all,

and you may disagree,

I am generous,

I am compassionate

I am humble.

I am myself as I see myself to be

I am ME.

Wonderful World

Wowzers! I haven't written in a long, long time.

My th0ughts were dark, but real.

Every now and then I still slip into that dark place. Thinking about what could have been. But I am beginning to realize that I must accept the fact that life goes on.

Life equals Time.

Time never Stops.

And so....

I go on.

I keep living my life! What a wonderful thing. As shitty as it is sometimes. I am here, in 2009, living my life's joys and sorrows. I am LIVING it.

Today, I am pissed off about work. I'm stressed about buying a house. I'm happy I had lunch with my son.

That, I think, is the point of this post.

LIVE IT! I AM LIVING LIFE.

Sometimes life sucks. But as long as we are breathing and our hearts are beating, we have the ability to FEEL how much it sucks! How stessfull it can be! How good it can be!

That's the territory that comes with Living.

If life didn't suck, how would we ever know what wonderful is?

Life is wonderful.

The simple gifts of nature....

A warm moonlit night by a bonfire. Smell it. Feel it. Hear it.

A cold , quiet, snowy winters morning. Smell it, Feel it, Hear it.

All I am saying is that the simple pleasures in life is what , I think , we need to try to enjoy.

Times are hard. Life is tough.

But we are tough too.

Do me a favor...

Sit back, suck in, enjoy the simple pleasures of this wonderful, wonderful place we are in.

Look at something very simple. A moon, a lit candle, the rain or a star, a song.

Look at it, feel it, hear it...

Set all your materialistic bullshit aside.

And know, that this really is ....

A wonderful, wonderful world

Shepard's Pie

About a month ago I felt ambitious in the kitchen.

Kitchen Ambitchen...Am bitchin' in the kitchen, kitchen AMBITION!

I wasn't bitchin' in the kitchen, I had Ambition in the kitchen....

Okay, okay, enough with the word-play.

I decided to embark on an exploration of Shepard's Pie. Mmmmmm...yummers.

I did a little research and recipe hunting and found that Shepard's Pie can be made a gazillion different ways. There is no *authentic recipe*.

No Authentic recipe = creativity.

I browned up some ground lamb and beef, added a little rosemary, salt and pepper and simmered. Then I diced up some carrots and onion and added them to the pot. Then I added some frozen peas.

Cover and simmer, simmer, simmer.

The aroma was delightful.

I made a rue and added to the simmering stew, which resulted in a thick, yummy gravy.

I transferred the stew to a casserole dish, topped it off with a layer of mashed potatoes and baked till the taters were browned.

Oh lordy, gordy, was it ever delicious.

Michael said, "Baby you out-did yourself with that one!".

I think I'm feeling some "kitchen ambition" today!

Battle of the Sinuses

Ugh! My sinuses!

Just last week Mike and I were discussing his sinus pressure and pain. I told him that I could sympathize with him because I USED to have severe sinusitis yeaarrrrrs ago. I remembered the misery and was so glaaaad I haven't any sinus problems in yeaarrrrs.

Four days ago I woke up. I woke up at 2 am, 4 am and 5:30 am. My throat was dry and sore. Water! Gimme water!

My throat was dry and sore because I was breathing through my mouth all night. Breathing through my mouth because I could NOT breathe through my nose.

I am convinced that I jinxed myself. After all these years, I've got a sinus infection. And it sucks. Actually it BLOWS. Blows, blows, blows. I've gone through two boxes of tissues!

As you can see from the picture above, my bathroom looks like a pharmacy. I am diligently fighting the Battle of the Sinuses. I'm winning! I feel a little better today!

In my fight tonight, I decided to make myself a few cups of hot, soothing, tea before bed. I added a little touch of lemon and honey just for the "comfort factor". I was so tired.

Soooooooooo Tired.

That was THREE HOURS AGO.

Sunday Snuggles

This weekend I did NOTHING. I slept in late and enjoyed my thick, soft, comforting blankets wrapped around my body on a warm, Sunday morning!

I had nothing to do. NOT A DARN THING! Not only did I have those warm blankets wrapped around me but I also had the warmth of Mikes body. That to me, is THE MOST WONDERFUL way to wake up on a Sunday morning. He was sleeping and softly snoring. I love his soft snores. They comfort me.

So. I woke up and drove to Dunkin Donuts. I ordered a hot cup of coffee with skimmed milk. I came home, plopped on my couch and tuned into t.v.

He woke up. He laid on the couch and I squeezed, cuddled and snored with him for another few hours.

I had to go to the Drugstore to get sinus spray, tablets and Tylenol to treat my allergies. He offered to go but I was restless.

Once I got back home I snuggled again and then gained enough strength to make some semi-ok stuffed green peppers.

After chowing down I snuggled again. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Mike had to catch the train to his apartment in the city. I drove him and said my good-byes.

I hate goodbyes.

They don't feel right.

They aren't right.

Especially after a day of Sunday Snuggles.

What I did today....

1. I woke up (that's a good thing!)
2. I made a pot of coffee (and drank it)
3. I logged into work and worked.
4. I followed my friend to the car mechanic and drove her back home.
5. I worked.
6. I went to visit my son Eddie and the dogs and enjoyed a Ceasar salad compliments of Eddie.
7. I worked.
8. I finished working.
9. I cleaned my stove and kitchen floor.
10. I made hummus.
11. I marinaded chicken tenderloins in peanut sauce.
12. I talked to Mike on the phone.
13. I picked Suzy up from the train.
14. I made grilled chicken, asparagus and potatoes and had dinner with my kids.
15. I watched American Idol.
16. I talked to my mother on the phone.
17. I poured a glass of wine.
18. I uploaded some photos on facebook.
19. I edited my latest blog.
20. I wrote this list.

Saturday

Saturdays.

Ahhhh....who doesn't love Saturdays? I can sleep in late, go to bed late, and make what ever I want of my day. Love it, love it, love it.

This morning I was awaken by text message from my daughter at 9:30 am.

HelllllllllOoooooooooooooooo???? Please don't text me, call me or knock on my door before noon on a Saturday. I want to sleep in!!! Can anyone relate to me when it comes to my "It's Saturday" attitude?

So, I got up at 9:30 am. Brewed a pot of fresh java and tuned into morning television while coffee was brewing. Just an FYI...I didn't respond to Suzy's text. I have not received another text or call since then. I'm so friggin' popular I can barely stand it!!

At 10:30 I started my "Cinderellas". Dishes, toilet cleaning, floor scrubbing, dusting, vacuuming, etc. Job accomplished by 1:00. It feels so good to have a clean house. I LOVE a clean house.

Now I'm typing out this quickie blog post telling everyone about my wonderful day. I'm contemplating what my next step is going to be. Shopping for a Mothers Day gift? Buy paint and splash some color in my bedroom? Anyone wanna help? Visit some friends I haven't seen in awhile? Maybe tonight I'll gussie up and go out for a few drinks. Or, maybe I'll be in my jammies by 7 , pop some corn, lay on the couch, and watch a movie. Who knows!

Gotta luv the versatility of a Saturday.

I'll keep you posted.

Color My World

Sorry I haven't posted in awhile. I've been UNmotivated when it comes to writing.

I have to be motivated. And, as I have said, I have been very, very UNmotivated.

I have been consumed with work. I wake up to work. I work during the day and think about work when I go to sleep at night. Work, work, work. It doesn't motivate me but it does sometimes consume me. Ever feel that way?

So. Let's go back in time a little bit. I'll fill you out as to where I have been and what I've been up to.

Easter was great.

Mike and I went to my mom's house on Easter Saturday to help her prepare for Easter Sunday. The only problem was that she was already prepared. OVERLY-FIRKIN-PREPARED! There wasn't a thing for us to do! Even dessert was done! My mom is so organized and "prepared" she should and would qualify as a bonified Eagle Scout. "Be Prepared."

I got a bug-up-my-butt and wanted to color Easter eggs. I was surprised when I asked mom if she wanted to color eggs and she said "no". She used to love to do that sort of stuff and that is why I still want to do it now. I love artsy-crafty kind of stuff. It brings back great childhood memories and memories of coloring eggs with my kids when they were little (and not so little). Coloring eggs at Easter is a tradition. It's a tradition for me. So I did. And Mike, like the good sport he is, joined me!


Aren't they pretty!?!


We made an egg for EVERYONE. I was in a delightful, egg-coloring, heaven!!

Red, green, orange, yellow, and Mikes-special- stipes.

Then I made.....deviled eggs. Good-bye pretty eggs. Hello scrump-dilly-isous!

Soooo, Easter has come and passed. Blah, blah, blah.

Hey, I'm not Perfect!

My Imperfections....Love Me or Don't.

1. When my kids were little I would pour them a bowl of cereal and pass out on the couch watching Rainbow Bright while they ate breakfast.

2. When my kids were school aged, I'd send them out the door to WALK to school , go back to bed, wake up at 2:25 and pick them up at 2:30. Hey! At least I picked them up.

3. When my kids were teenagers and didn't come home at curfew, I'd go out in my pajamas and wet hair to find them, humiliate them and bring them home.

4. I let dishes sit in my sink for four or five days.

5. I wear the same socks for three days in a row.

6. I hate deodorant. It makes my armpits itch. I'd rather smell like B.O.

7. Sometimes I sleep in the same shirt and bra I wore all day....AND the day before!

8. I rarely make my bed.

9. I floss my teeth with plastic bags.

10. I roll out of bed, throw on clothes, don't brush my hair or put on makeup and go to work on some mornings.

11. I do not take daily showers or baths. I bathe/shower every other day...sometimes every other, other day.

12. I can't figure out my Religion.

13. I don't balance my checkbook....ever!

14. I hate that I love to procrastinate.

15. I am addicted to the Food Channel.

American Idol. When's it gonna happen?

I know I am not the only American Idol viewer who is just waiting.....

......for this

Time

Today I got together with my family to celebrate my cousins 50th birthday.

You may not see your cousin, aunt or uncle for ten years but when you re-unite it's just like old times. Reuniting with family can take you back to old memories and places.

Carefree, childhood memories of long ago.

Memories of rollerskating in your cousin's basement while your parents were in another room, partying and enjoying the night away. Memories of Mom and Dad, Aunts and Uncles laughing around a dining room table, sipping wine and martinis, talking about old times and discussing current events.

Memories of the bright glow of Uncle John's movie camera capturing you sitting on Santa's lap when he came to Grandmas house. Memories.

I don't know why but when it comes to my family,I find it hard to accept everyone in the roles they belong in today.

Them. My Uncles and Aunts, Mom and Dad were the party machines - grilling, drinking, laughing , watching over us kids and incorporating the fashion of the times. Now they aren't "them". They are the granparents and great-grandparents who could care less about drinking, watching over kids and fashion. They are now content and retired.

Us. Me and my cousins were the pampered,carefree, spoiled children But now we are not. We are the party machines, drinking, watching over kids (and even some grandkids) still keeping up with fashion. We are working hard to make a living.

Time doesn't stop. It keeps ticking-and ticking. And before I knew it I am one of "them". And sooner or later my kids and thier kids are going to be one of "us".

The point of this post is that I have come to realize how important it is to savor and to live in each and every single moment of my life.

Because there is no escaping the fact that some day, maybe in 200 years, someone will come across a headstone that reads: " Christy Matczak Boyle 1962 - ?"

They might think... who was she?

I was them.
They were me.
I am us .
I am you.
I am me.