Break Dancing Dudes. . .

Here's the latest and greatest breakdancing video from my three sons!

Just push play. . . THEY ARE AWESOME!

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Hey. . . Are ya BUSY?

OK. . . time for a little observation/rant/vent/whatever!

Have you ever noticed when you talk to someone--perhaps someone whom you haven't heard from in a while--or even someone you frequently see or communicate with regularly--or (Heaven forbid!) someone you've JUST MET--they always seem to ask you: 'So. . . have you been busy?' (or something to that effect)

The problem with this 'What have you been up to lately?' question is that it DOES tend to put one on the spot. . . Like I feel I must come up with something PROFOUNDLY IMPORTANT that has kept me hopping every waking moment. . . so as not to disappoint.

I mean--after the person tells you EVERY LAST DETAIL of what they have been up to--I sort of feel like a sofa slug, sitting on the couch, eating chips and channel surfing--only when I can muster up the energy to push the channel change button. (Wait, that's because that IS what I have been doing. . .)







I simply CANNOT compete with the folks who just got back from an important dig on another continent, managed to run their fortune 500 company from their sat phone and laptop, watched little Billy's archery competition at the state championships, and volunteered at the local soup kitchen for the past 7 1/2 hours just before getting their Volvo detailed and dry cleaning picked up.

It seems that you must come up with something completely inconceivable and utterly impossible in order to compete or at least mildly impress. And I'm just NOT IN THE MOOD anymore for that sort of nonsense!

I am thinking of coming up with a standard answer to the: 'So. . .have you been busy? Whatcha been up to?' question.

Maybe the 'I have been in deep therapy but I really can't talk about it right now' would work. . . .






Or maybe the 'I'm in a conference call with some VERY high level top brass on REALLY official super secret business, which is TOTALLY classified and most urgent. . . can I call you back?' would sound better. . .







NAH! I'll just use my ole' stand by: 'Uh. . .nuthin'

Now that's ALWAYS IMPRESSIVE!

Anyone an 'Office' fan?

OK fellow bloggers. . . do any of you enjoy the show: THE OFFICE?

My family and I really enjoy this show. . . and since dear hubby IS a cubical rat working for a company like Dunder Mifflin (like the folks portrayed in the office) he truly identifies with some of the situations the show depicts.

We are missing the humor, the realism, the agony of directly looking into the eyes of 'Michael Scott', the bone-chilling brilliance of 'Dwight Schrute', the ice-blooded, self-involved, uber-always right Angela, the ever annoying Andy, the. . . (well you get the picture) ANYWAY--we are missing our regular 'Office' fix since the writer's strike. . .

And so we are just left to puzzle and wonder and only imagine what in the world they are up to right now (especially between Pam and Jim).

Soooo. . . I thought I'd throw this little post out here in the form of a POLL QUESTION:

Who's your favorite OFFICE character and why?

And who knows. . . I just might post a picture of the winning character you select (if I can find a good one, that is) Heck--I just might post a picture of any that you mention (if I'm in a good mood)

OK to get you started--and just because I'm in a good mood--I'm gonna vote for Creed--cuz I like his style!

Well, alrighty then! Apparently we have two votes for Dwight Schrute--so I am adding his picture for your enjoyment:







Since we have a vote. . . I am not gonna leave out the fearless office manager himself. . . besides, if he accidentally stumbles onto my blog I don't want him to cry. Here is the great boss: MICHAEL SCOTT






Well, well, well! We have a couple of votes for Andy Bernard. Good ole' 'anger management' Andy. Yep! The big 'suck-up' himself. He can sing, he can whine, he can become paranoid, and I do enjoy the skirmishes between him and the 'Big Tuna'. So here he is in all his glory:







AND we have a vote for Kevin Malone. Now this is a funny guy. Probably the most underestimated and quite the scene stealer. I'd be afraid to take a peek in his domicile--but he is pretty funny. So another photo for your enjoyment:







This is WAY COOL! We are getting more and more Office Fan votes. . . THIS JUST IN! A request for Jim Halpert and Pam Beesly, otherwise known as 'Jim & Pam'. . . I don't have a picture of them together--but I do have their pictures and I am putting them up for you. AND if I can figure out how to post a YouTube video on here of them--I'll get that up too. . . So here are a couple of photos at least to satiate your appetite for now:










This is for the 'romance factor' fan. . . Hopefully I just figured out how to add this YouTube video of the blossoming Office romance of Jim and Pam. These are the TOP TEN Jim & Pam moments:



Apparently we can't leave out Angela Martin either. . . the gal you love to hate:







Now all you have to do is go down to the very end of this posting and click on the word: 'Comments' and then a little window will pop up where you can type in who your favorite character is in the little box. You can also elaborate. . . or not! Go ahead. . . give it a try!

We've taken up dancing!

OK. . .we have some great friends who got us to try out square dancing for a while--but dear hubby liked this so much better!






JUST PUSH PLAY!

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Full of CRAP. . . It's not just an expression anymore!

Well. . . I need to start right off and tell you this story AIN'T PRETTY! This is not your cute little 'House At Pooh Corner' with Christopher Robbin and Pooh and Piglet scampering off happily through the Hundred Acre Woods. . . (unless the Hundred Acre woods is full of nasty, stomach-turning smells, as well as owl droppings, deer dumpings, elk urine and lil' rotting rabbit carcases everywhere)

Nope! This ain't no Ozzie and Harriet story either--(more like Ozzy and Sharon Osbourne)

But. . . some of my dear friends and family have literally BEGGED me to tell this story on my blog. . . and so I am reliving this HOUSE OF HORRORS just for you!

(Just so you know, some of you are gonna owe me a FREE DINNER when I get through as I'm starting to feel clammy and sweaty just WRITING about it.)

Deep breath. . . make that a deep CLEAN breath of fresh air. . . all right, I'm ready to begin:

It all started in the spring of '06 (and NO, that's not 1906--but 2006--I'm not THAT old)

Anyway--my firstborn son had come home briefly from college to crash for a bit, right after the semester was over, just before he headed off to Alaska to do some commercial fishing for the summer. . .

He was only home for a few weeks--but right after he left, I started noticing a REALLY BAD SMELL in the house. Particularly downstairs in the office (which also doubles as a guest room) and has an adjoining bathroom. . . this was where oldest son had been 'crashing'.

So I'm thinking. . . OK, maybe he doesn't have the best cleaning habits the world and I give the entire room and downstairs bath a thorough cleaning--and for a few days all I notice is the strong smell of chemicals and bleach.

But THEN--this crappy (and I do mean crappy) smell comes back. . . and I'm checking the floor vents and corners and crevices of my home to see what can be causing that SMELL. . . I find nothing, but dutifully clean again. . . and all is well, for a while. . .

Meanwhile, the weather starts getting a bit warmer as we are heading into the summer months--and I must tell you at this point that late spring and early summers can be a bit tricky here in the northwest--as some days are absolutely FREEZING and new snow is dumped on the mountains--and other days can be sunny and warm and time to break out the T-Shirts and sandals.

But I am going crazy, because on SOME days--I am noticing a really strong odor in my house (hindsight now tells me it was on the WARMER days) and I can't go downstairs, much less in the office without my eyes watering and my gag reflex kicking in. Upstairs it's not quite so bad. . .

So at this point, I start to enlist the help of my 2 younger sons and dear hubby, who seem to be OBLIVIOUS to this INCREDIBLY BAD PERFUNGERATION (if that's a word) going on in our home. . .

Me: I think we may be harboring a dead body that I'm not aware of, so you guys need to 'fess up.

Middle son: I didn't do it!

Youngest son: Cool!

Dear Hubby: What are you trying to say?

Me: Don't you guys notice that SMELL?

Dear Hubby: What smell? The house smells normal to me. . .

Me: Dear HEAVENS! Can't you see that I'm talking to you through a gas mask? There is something WRONG WITH THIS HOUSE. You guys need to look for it, FIND IT, and remove it.

So off they go on a 'house-hunting' adventure. . .

Meanwhile I call dear daughter--who is close to giving birth to my second grandchild.

Me: Hey, have you guys been noticing any kind of smell when you come to the house?

Dear daughter: Well, I wasn't going to say anything. . . but. . .

Me: But what?

Dear daughter: Some days the house DID kinda smell funny when we were over there. (She's rushing her words together quickly so I won't feel bad) but after the initial shock wore off and we were actually IN the house for a while and our noses crusted over a bit--it seemed fine. Really!

I get off the phone quickly to check on the men and let them know once and for all that it wasn't just ME and my 'sensitive nose'--that there really was a problem. . .

They came up with nothing--but dear hubby is now getting into this and thinks maybe we have some nasty standing water in our washing machine or something. . .so he and the boys take the washing machine out to the back yard and turn it upside down and shake it a few times. . . nothing! It's dry as a bone. . .

So now that the outtake hose is exposed from the washer--dear hubby pours a bottle of bleach, drain-o, and numerous other chemicals down there just in case there is some nasty standing water or STUFF trapped in the hose. . .THEN he surmises that there might be a dead little critter between the space in the wall and the pipe and so he putties up the hole around the hose that leads to the washer, produces a satisfied smile and pronounces: 'There! Good as new!'

I had to admit with all those chemicals and cleaning and whatnot, I couldn't smell anything for a few days. . .

But then, just like a bad penny, my adult children, and door to door salesmen--the smell came back. . . WITH A VENGEANCE. By this time, I was so paranoid, I stopped having people over--I had carpet cleaners, vent cleaners, washed the dog numerous times, I was even considering putting the home on the market and moving, when it dawned on me that I'd have to get rid of that SMELL first. . .

Hubby INSISTED the house smeled like 'fresh carpet cleaning' or 'fresh vent cleaning' or 'fresh power washing' or 'fresh wet dog' or whatever the heck else I had done that day. I told him he was FULL OF CRAP! This house STUNK to high heaven and I was moving out if we didn't find the source and get rid of it PRONTO!

My daughter was about to have a baby, my mother in law was coming for a visit, and I had planned to host a 'Shade Clothing' party for my gal pals and their daughters in a couple of weeks and I felt I was living in a crappy house. (How soon THAT proved to be true!) I canceled the clothing party, got my mother in law to postpone her visit, but I couldn't stop my dear daughter from having her baby and so I was at wit's end. . .

A few days later, while I was lying on the couch in the family room numb from exhaustion, watching TV with a clothespin over my nose---one of my middle son's friends came in through the front door (even though I had posted a HUGE SIGN right on it that read: 'DO NOT ENTER! KNOCK 3 TIMES, STAND BACK AND WAIT FOR US TO COME OUT TO YOU"

Anyway, this friend of my son comes barging in anyway, notices my son in the front office and bursts out: 'Holy #@!!! Your house smells like CRAP!"

I come rushing to him from the family room and he immediately starts to apologize as he didn't know I was there and overheard him. But I give him a great big hug and start smothering him with kisses.

Son's friend: Middle son's mom, are you alright? (trying to get out of my tight embrace)

Me: Did you just say my house smelled like crap?

Son's friend: (Stammering and stuttering) Uh, well, what I meant to say. . .

Me: (Interrupting) No! It's OK. . .Really! I want you to be truthful.

Son's friend: I shouldn't have said that.

Me: But it's true?

Son's friend (eyes are watering and face is starting to melt off from being in our house): Yeah, it's pretty much true.

Me: I KNEW IT! Thank you!

Son's friend (barely able to get the words out from his imploding face): Can I leave now?

Me: Of course!

Son's friend gasps and grovels towards the door (all of 3 steps) and manages to get out and on with his life. . .

So I thunk my son on the head and said: See, I TOLD YOU! Our house really STINKS! Why haven't you guys noticed this? (That's when I take a closer look at him and realize his nose has completely fallen off and he can't smell a thing)

When dear hubby comes home a few hours later, THE SMELL HAD EFFECTED ME SO BADLY my face swelled up to the size of a small watermelon. We noticed the dog 'scooting' on the family room rug--and he got down on the floor to check it out--and sure enough--it smelled really bad! (but then, so did the rest of the house) So I took the dog to the vet to get his 'anal glands squeezed' and I was told my dog had a bad infection and may have problems like this more often in the future as he was getting older.

Now if you've read my 'Dad or Dog' post you will realize that this dog is part of the family and my sons AND hubby are just over the moon for him. . .But, if this was the source of the problem, and it was only going to get worse--then well, it was time for dear dog to pass beyond this world and into the next. . .

So I convinced dear hubby that we should schedule for the dog to be 'put down' and I made the call right then and there. I was saddened to lose the dog, but thrilled by the prospect that we FINALLY MIGHT GET RID OF THAT SMELL once and for all--and I could get my life back!

The dog was set for his departure from this world at 3:00 p.m. the next afternoon, and my poor hubby was beside himself over this. The boys had basically said their goodbyes that evening before they went to bed. . . but dear hubby ended up sleeping on the floor with the dog his final night. . . I was really feeling very badly.

Dear hubby went off to work the next morning, knowing that when he got home that day, his dog would be no more. I had carpet cleaners, vent cleaners, window washers, power scrubbers, and house-smell restoring guys all lined up to come by at 5:00 p.m that afternoon. . .

Then just before lunch time, I get a call from dear hubby asking if my middle son was home. I check and make sure that my son is still comatose in his room and reply, 'Yes, he's here.'

Dear hubby: Good. Keep him there. I'll be right home and I need him to help me with something.

Dear hubby gets home and drags my son out of bed and proceeds to march him into the office and open up the ' trap door' in the floor of the closet that leads to the crawlspace underneath our home.

Dear hubby to my son: I want you to go down there and tell me if you see anything.

(The smell is now so overpowering from opening that trap door, that I open the front door and stand outside to watch the rest of the proceedings)

Middle son (now fully waking up and not too sure about this): Uh, will I be OK?

Dear hubby: Sure! You'll be fine! Oh, and here's a flashlight.

The amazing thing about this is that my 19 year old son ACTUALLY DOES GO DOWN THERE!

Middle son (as he is entering the crawlspace): Is there supposed to be water down here?

Dear hubby doesn't respond, grabs another flashlight and follows him down. .

Middle son: Oh CRAP!

Dear hubby: What?

Middle son: I said CRAP, dad, CRAP!

Dear hubby: Don't talk like that, your mother can hear you.

Middle son (rushing to get out for dear life): No, I'm trying to tell you dad. . .

Dear hubby (seeing for himself): Holy crap!

Middle son and dear hubby scramble out of there faster than a guy who's just gorged out at the 'all you can eat Mexican buffet' and then needs to use the restroom! (I know it's toilet humor, but doggone it--it fits!)

Dear hubby: I think the sewer line is busted under our house. I'm calling the plumber. He hastily shuts the trap door and throws a tic-tac in his mouth.

Youngest son thankfully missed out on all the fun as he had to get up and go to school that morning. . .

Dear hubby (getting off the phone with the plumber): I have some bad news. The plumber says if there really is POOH under our house, he is not gonna come out and fix the pipes until it's cleaned up. We have to call a HAZMAT team.

Me: You're kidding me!

Dear hubby: Would I kid about a thing like that?

Me: Where are we gonna find a HAZMAT team?

Dear hubby: We'll just google 'bio-hazard' on the internet. . .Oh, and call the vet and tell them we are NOT gonna need his services to put the dog down. It's not the dogs anals that are causing the problem. . .it's ours!

I had to admit he was right. . . and that lucky dog got a last minute reprieve.

So dear hubby reaches some 'bio-hazard' folk on the phone and ask them to PLEASE come AS SOON as possible--which turned out fortunately to be within just a couple of hours--around 2:30 p.m.

Dear hubby: Well, I'm back to work--just show them the trap door and I'm sure they can follow their noses!

Me: Gee, thanks!

Right around 2:30 p.m. a sloppy mini van pulls up with Zeke and Deke, two regular joes, in regular clothes, one tall and thin and missing several of his front teeth, the other extremely portly and with his crack hanging out of the back of his pants--even while standing! YIKES! This was just like every bad sit-com or movie you could imagine.

Me: Are you the bio-hazard people?

Zeke and Deke: We shore are!

Me: Don't you need protective clothing or something? And isn't there some kind of heavy equipment you need to remove bio-hazard material?

Deke: Don't you worry your purty lil' head, missy. We'll be fine.

Zeke: Yeah, we're only here to ASSESS the situation. If there's cause for real concern--we'll send a professional team right out to take care of the problem.

Deke: Yeah, and if they come, why they'll be so many trucks and bio-hazard equipment, it will make yur head spin!

My head was already spinning, but I managed to let them in. They didn't look or smell too good themselves. . . I pointed them to the closet and the trap door and warned them there may be 'pooh' down there and to be careful.

Zeke: Now missy, everyone ALWAYS thinks they have a 'pooh' problem under their home--but it rarely turns out to be that bad. What you most likely have here is a bad case of mold.

Me: Mold? This doesn't smell like mold. . .

Deke (acting like he couldn't wait to get down there): Shore smells like mold to me! Let's check this puppy out!

Zeke opens the door and isn't even phased by the smell. It knocks be back into another room and I STILL manage to caution them.

Me: You might want to put on a mask or something as my hubby says he thinks a SEWER line is busted. . .and. . .

Deke: I told ya not to worry, I've got my trusty flashlight--and really, it don't smell too bad. Just a bit moldy, that's all. I'm gonna take me a look-see.

Meantime my youngest son comes rushing home from school and I have to tell you that I have raised four children, NONE of whom have EVER used a school bathroom in their lives. They have 'school bathroom phobia' or something--so they 'save up' and do their business at home. This is what my son was doing at EXACTLY the same time Deke went down the crawlspace to take a look-see at the 'mold'.

Zeke: Well, what is it? Did you find anything?

Deke: Holy crap! #@!!! Sh***!

Zeke: There's no call for that kinda language, Deke. There's a lady present.

Deke: No! I'm telling ya it's full of CRAP down here--and oh Lordy be, a fresh package has just landed! (my son had flushed the toilet)

Deke races outta there like a man trying to get a bag of bats off his head. . .

Zeke: M'am we've assessed the situation.

Deke: Yep! And it ain't mold. . . .

Zeke: We're gonna leave some big hepa filter fans for you to use to try and get some of this smell out. And don't you worry--the bio-hazard team will be here at 6:00 a.m. sharp tomorrow morning to remove the 'poop'

Deke: Yeah, and I might suggest you don't use your toilets until this gets fixed.

Me: No problem--I'm not planning on living here at the moment.

Deke: Missy, it really ain't bad. What you've got is what we call a 'slow leak'--it builds up over time. . . and . .

Me: I don't want to know, but thanks for coming.

They tried to shake my hand at that point, but I just shook my head no, and pointed in the direction of the door. . .

That evening we have the windows open, every fan in the house running, enough candles lit to burn the place to cinders. . . and tried to sleep. . .

The next morning, bright and early at 6:00 a.m. as promised, the circus. . . I mean Bio-hazard folks, arrived. . . and it was a sight to behold! Neighbors from other subdivisions came to watch the 'team' at work. The big trucks that pulled up were all white, the guys were wearing those all white suits with gas masks on--just like in the E.T. move--and talking and breathing the same way Darth Vader does in those Star Wars films. . .

WHY IN THE WORLD they wore all white suits to do what they were doing, and working with the 'materials' they were working with--is beyond me. . . But the neighborhood folks seemed to be enjoying the show.

I can't believe these neighbors came right over to talk to us--even though these HUGE trucks had the words: DANGER, BIO HARARD MATERIALS and REALLY NASTY STUFF, COULD CAUSE HORRIFIC PROBLEMS written on the sides. . .

After the HAZMAT team finished up--they brought even BIGGER hepa filter fans to use and a warming light to dry up underneath the house, which we dutifully used for 3 days. . . then the plumber showed up and re-did the plumbing underneath the home. . . and THE SMELL WAS FINALLY GONE!

Me and dear hubby could exclaim together at last, "This house has been cleansed!"

I had friends over to the house again, my mother-in-law arrived and my daughter had her second child on father's day. . . and no one was the wiser about our 'crappy experience'. . .

Seriously, I'm amazed that so many people never knew or figured it out. . .(including my own FAMILY) but I am so glad that the poop is no longer hitting the fan and that all of that is BEHIND us now. . .

And just to prove that I'm not making this UP--Here are some photos. . .WARNING: They are not for the faint of heart. The proof is in the pudding as they say. . . only in this case--it's NOT pudding! (As nasty as they are, please realize, these were taken when the 'clean up' was taking place and most of the 'evidence' was already removed!)






Soooo. . . when someone uses that expression 'full of crap'. . . I sit back and just smile--because THEY HAVE NO IDEA! Only someone who has actually been in the trenches and gone through the bowels of my crawlspace knows EXACTLY what that phrase means!

And now--I will sanitize the rest of this posting and end on a happier, cleaner note:

Let it snow!

This is for my dear hubby--who absolutely adores cold, rainy, snowy weather!

(Yes--he is quite crazy--and some say he is the ICE and I am the FIRE in our marriage. . . but hey, it's all good!

Below is a slide show of some of our 'snowy adventures'

And. . . I am thinking that they are about to begin again this Monday--as hubby has the day off and is DYING to get out there and do some cross country skiing. . .

So sweetie--this one's for you!

OK. . . I'm owning up!

I'm telling you. . . I always have the BEST of intentions. . .

But DRATS! Each year I get later and later and more behind. . .

I'm STILL sticking to my excuse that we just BARELY finished the holidays and
wedding for my son. . .(even though it's on the downside of January already)

But HALLELUJAH! I just finished taking the tree and the last of the Christmas decorations today!







And, I'm actually owning up to it! (A first for me, as I never make mistakes in this household. . . it's always dear hubby's fault!)

Sooooo. . . AM I THE ONLY ONE this late to the party? Did you all get everything put away and stored and put away already??? Please tell me I'm not the ONLY ONE! (although as my papa always used to say--when you're all alone, at least you're in good company)

Wal-mart at its finest!

OH MY GOSH!

A friend sent this to me in an e-mail today and gave me permission to post this on my blog. . .

You are NOT gonna believe this one. (Well, if you've been to Wal-mart recently--maybe you will!)

Anyway. . . here goes the story--and the cake you see pictured below is for someone who was moving from an insurance claims office. . .

Here is how the phone conversation probably went:

Wal-Mart employee: Hey! Dis Wal-mart. How can I help you?

Customer: I would like to order a cake for a 'going away' party this weekend.

Wal-Mart employee: What you want on da cake?

Customer: 'Best Wishes Suzanne' and underneath that, 'We will miss you'

Wal-Mart employee: No problem. I gots it!

Viola! Here's the cake!

An evening with Grace. . . .

OK! Here it is. . . my little

RANT

about customer service in this day and age (or the lack thereof)

Take for instance my little dining experience with dear hubby and another couple this past Friday night. . .

We go to a restaurant that we haven't tried before and upon pulling in the parking lot notice very few cars there. (That right THERE should have been a warning)

This was supposedly a 'classier' establishment--but we notice upon entering no host or hostess to great us--just a very disheveled, morbidly obese waitress by the name of 'Grace' who finally stumbles up to us and seats us in a booth right between the only other 2 booths that were occupied in the entire place!

There was an ENTIRE EMPTY RESTAURANT before us--but we manage to be sandwiched in between the only other booths that had people in them! My husband cleverly notices these booths were by an open window--so that drivers going by would see all 3 booths filled up and figure that 'Man! That place is hopping! Just look at all those people in there!' (Come to think of it--that's what drew us in in the first place. We drove by that window and saw that 'most' of the tables seemed filled)

My observation at this point was that Grace was a woman of convenience. She didn't want to have to traverse the entire room--so she sat us all down in the same area where she wouldn't have to walk more than 6 feet at any given time. . . Add to the fact that she didn't need to explain about the 'today's specials' since they were cleverly stained all over her uniform from delving into them in the back. Grace was sort of an enigma--as her persona did not fit the name she was given at birth. . .

Grace dutifully passes out the menus and promptly tells us that there has been an 'altercation with the menus' and some of the food choices are no longer available. (At this point, I was wondering if there was any fighting going on in the kitchen or something) She also asks us if we are 'implants' or originally from around these parts. (I was checking my blouse to make sure that everything was buttoned up properly) when she stated that she firmly believed in reintarnation. (which, I suspect is coming back to life as a hillbilly)

She also called her boss an 'ignoranus'--which I'm assuming is a person who's both stupid and a bit of a jack-donkey. . .

It then dawned upon all of us that we were not dealing with a Mensa scholar and so must adjust our actions and responses accordingly. . .

Since there were four of us and we had come as couples and I was sitting next to my husband and my friend was sitting across from us with HER husband---we politely asked Grace if she could do separate checks for us. This turned out to be more than her poor brain could handle as during the rest of the meal she kept coming back and asking who went with whom and whose bill she should put each item on that was delivered to our table. (Never mind the fact that we pointed out to her in the beginning how we wanted the checks divided. AND we were sitting right next to our spouses, for Heaven's sake! AND when my friend was leaning on her hubby's chest, holding his hand and cooing to him through the meal--Grace came back and asked her: "Who are you with again?" So, in exasperation she pointed to the guy in the booth behind her)

When we finally got our meals delivered and straightened out since EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM were delivered to the wrong person. . . My friend's hubby asked for some ketchup. The crestfallen look of our waitress, Grace, was a sight to behold. She shuffled 3 steps over to the booth behind us and asked the good folks there if they were done with their ketchup because 'these people' at the booth next to them wanted it. Then she just grabbed it and brought it back to our table and plopped it down!

We were pretty amazed to find out that they apparently must have had only one bottle of ketchup as we spared Grace any further discomfort and passed it along to the booth in front of us when we were through. . .

When Grace wandered back in halfway through the meal to see if there was 'anything else we wanted', we could tell by the look on her face that she was PRAYING no one would need anything. But doggone it! We were given these 4 teensy tiny dinner rolls that were so small the pat of butter that accompanied them was actually bigger than the roll. And they were GOOD! And I wanted more. (so did everyone else--but they were too afraid to say anything to Grace)

So summoning up all my courage and in my nicest most cheery voice, I asked if we could please have some more dinner rolls. . . Grace was not a happy camper. That meant that she would have to go back to the kitchen instead of collapsing in her cot in the corner as she had the habit of doing during our meal.

She came out quite a bit later with TWO TINY ROLLS in this giant basket and placed them in reverence at the end of the table and had the gall to say: 'Please tell me that this is enough and that you don't need anymore because if you do, I will have to go back and get more and I am tired of being woken up when I'm working.'

Let's see--there were FOUR of us--we all wanted rolls--even a single roll wouldn't be enough to feed ONE because of the minuscule size--at this point I just didn't care if I was in the 'Bozone Layer' or not. Bozone meaning the substance surrounding stupid people, that stops bright ideas from penetrating. . . With Grace, the Bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down in the near future.

So I speak up. 'It is NOT enough. We want more rolls. Please! Enough for all FOUR of us.'

I have no idea what went through Grace's uncanny mind at that point--but as she shuffled off into the distance, I wondered if we would ever see her again.

Actually she came back in a half hour to bring us an ENTIRE GIANT BASKET with LOAVES of bread, which could have rivaled the feeding of the 5,000! We stared in amazement and didn't say anything--but managed to dive right in--and I knew better than to ask for any more butter to go along with it.

The evening went along fairly well and even though we would have liked to try some dessert--when Grace appeared by crawling on all fours and pulling herself up to her chin to reach the end of the table and TOLD us we were full and couldn't possibly want anything else. . .we took pity on her and agreed.

She left the checks, which had to be figured out by the help of our new friends at the 2 other booths, paid our bills, tucked Grace in her cot, told her goodnight and left. . .

Needless to say--we will NEVER go back to that restaurant again--and I'm sure Grace will not mind a bit. . .

New Year's Resolutions. . . Or not!

Do you faithfully make your list of 'New Year's Resolutions' only to find that you've completely blown it by February 2nd?

OR did the holidays go by so lightning fast this year that you haven't even had time to sit down and take a breath to even THINK about your goals/resolutions for this year?

OR are you kinda tired of fixating on some HUMONGOUS far-reaching goal that you don't have a snowball's chance in the netherworld of achieving?

OR does the idea of thinking up big ideas, small ideas, plans for the future. . . or plans for next week, seem to blow a circuit in your brain?

Well. . . fear not, little blogger-folk! I'm right there with ya!

I have come up with the PERFECT solution! Let me tell you, this idea may just catch on like wildfire!

You see, it was much easier for me to come up with a list of what I'm NOT GONNA DO or what I WILL NOT PUT UP WITH, rather than to boggle my mind with the possibilities of what I want and must accomplish. . .

Call me cynical, a realist, or just plain dog-tired from the holiday-wedding mayhem--but THIS YEAR I have come up with my non-resolutions! (and quite easily, I might add!)

Go ahead and try it! You just might find it refreshing, relaxing, enchanting, funny, relieving--and you won't have to reach for the aspirin bottle after completing it. Heck! You might not even have to go lie down and take a nap afterward. (but that is always an available option)

OK--so here's my partial list of NON-RESOLUTIONS for 2008--feel free to use them yourself if you like:

1) I am NOT gonna promise to go on some fad diet and lose a certain amount of poundage by a set time this year, only to find myself haggling over the newest flavor of Krispe Creme dough nuts with the lady who just cut in front of me to get the very last one. I will just make my mind up right now to visit the shop faithfully each and every month when they come out with a new flavor and not deny my taste buds their rightful due. . .

2) I will NOT make a goal to get up faithfully at 4:00 a.m. and get my 5 mile run and total body conditioning workout in before my dear hubby and dear son get up to go to work and school--so that I can be showered and refreshed and ready to greet them invigorated and ready to start their day with a smile and a word of encouragement--as well as a 5 Star breakfast. Rather, I will make sure to roll out of bed by the time dear hubby is heading out the door and hand him 5 bucks and the car keys so he can get to the nearest McDonald's before embarking on his work day. I will then yell at dear son to get out of bed and finish the cereal that he snacked on the night before, and then, after all that effort, deservedly collapse back into bed.

3) I will NOT make a list of good books that I should accomplish reading by the end of this year. Short of watching Oprah to find out what's the latest book in her book club and memorizing the title and author--so that I can name drop and banter with any other folk so inclined, I will make sure I read all medication bottles before throwing contents in my mouth--and just for good measure, I will actually read a few food packaging labels (at least the front titles) before throwing them in my shopping cart.

4) I will NOT set a time table for spring cleaning, winter cleaning, summer or fall cleaning. . . or even weekly or daily cleaning. I will at some point, sometime in the future (I'm not exactly committing as to when) throw a dust cloth, mop, broom, dishrag in the general direction of some unseemly part of my house and then calmly recite the mantra: 'Beauty is in the eye of the beholder--and perhaps it's time I get my eyes checked.'

5) I will NOT put down in pen/pencil, (or even let the words fall from my lips) that I will stick to a budget this year when it comes to spending. Let's just say that I WILL spend. How much, how long, what for, and why will probably remain a mystery to the members of my family--but there WILL be spending--from time to time--perhaps on a daily basis. Or hourly.

Well. . . I think I've covered all the bases for now. . . and WOW! Do I feel better doing this! Now the only thing I can think of to top this off would be to take a nap. . .

WEDDING NEWS!

As promised, I am posting pictures of my son's wedding which recently took place on December 28th. . .

First the happy couple during the engagement:







Next we have some great wedding day shots:














And then the reception fun! Here's a photo I like to call: LET THEM EAT CAKE!






One of my son's younger brothers couldn't be there--as he is currently serving a church mission in Norway--and he's really a 'stand up' guy--so we made a 'standee' of him and brought him along to the festivities. . . Here he is with his brothers goofing off before the wedding reception later that evening:








And here he is hanging out with the wedding couple:












Here's me and 'dear hubby' after seeing these 2 young people 'hitched':







Dear daughter was enjoying the evening with my #1 grandson:







My youngest grandson, just wanted to be picked up and taken outta there!






Me and MIL (nother-in-law) happy that it's FINALLY OVER! WHEW! (Note the great manicure and brow waxing that she has from her notorious day at the 'nail spa'!!)







Yep! All in all, I'd say it was a BIG SUCCESS. . . and HAPPY 2008 to all!

Adventures of Sam. . .

And not to be outdone or left out. . .

Here is my number one grandson (whom I shall lovingly call Sam) spreading a little Christmas cheer. . .

Oh my gosh! Don't ya just wannna give him a GREAT BIG HUG???

Adventures of Max. . .

Well. . .

The Holidays AND my son's wedding are FINALLY OVER. . . WHEW!

And I actually have some photos to mark the happy events. . .

First I will present an adorable photo of my grandson, (whom I lovingly call Max) taken at my son's wedding.

He was really getting into the festivities and wanted to make his OWN memories and take pictures of the gala. . .So he did the only normal thing that he saw everyone else doing--putting a camera on his head and yelling: 'CHEESE!'

(Too bad the professional photographers weren't that adorable!)