Driving the Gold Belt

Yesterday we took a narrarated driving tour of the Gold Belt, the old Florence & Cripple Creek Railroad. The CD we purchased from our campground was a great history lesson.

Here is some of what we saw.

The narrow gauge
The old mines in Victor

A view from the top looking down at Cripple Creek

Off now for a great day of adventure and our last here in Canon City.

Dorothy We Aren't in Kansas

I sit here watching the sun rise over the Royal Gorge Bridge, which I see clearly in the distance from my camp site here at the Royalview Campground. There is a chill in the air that is so welcomed after Saturday's St. Louis departure humidity and Kansas 104* pit stop.

Let's chat a bit about that ride into Kansas.

You know how when you drive down the highway there is always road signs alerting to up coming historical sights that are begging travelers to break from the highway, pause and visit? In true Lampoons Vacation style I suggested we stop at the Oz Museum--really why not, we were in Kansas. I had visions of bright colors, munchkins and yellow brick roads while music played and we sang along "we're off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of Oz". Well, twenty-eight bucks later (and that was a triple A and a college ID discount)...it failed to live up to any of our expectations; although I am told it isn't at the level of my taking the family to Windmill Island in Holland, MI. Because of our disappointment I refused to drop another dollar at Toto's Tacos. Truly a roadside America stop to a not so exciting museum in a quaint little Kansas town--with one stop light.

Next stop the world's biggest ball of string.

Kidding.

After an overnight in Salina, Kansas at a nice little KOA--where we practiced our rhythm of popping up the camper as a family in sinc, like a well oiled machine, impressing people that we can have her up as fast as David Copperfield can wow folks with a magic trick. Then we had dinner at a Mexican restaurant; the only one in the US that does not serve margaritas--so wrong and then the weary travelers rested.

Next thing you know we have our feet planted on ground of Colorado, were the air is cool and the sun shines. Bummer is here in Canon City they had a wild fire so we can't BBQ or have camp fires due to a temporary city ban. Of course most everything we have to eat is needed to be prepared over hot coals. So the marshmallows rest in the bag unopened.

Today we wake ready to explore.

Let's Go Camping

Tracey reminded me it's a great day to camp.

I have been crazy busy packing up the box to the left with everything but the kitchen sink...well, cause, there is already a sink in that box. You know this box:

(box looks the same, the kids though have grown and matured since this photo)

Then we'll pop that box up and out and have us a Great American Backyard Campout; except in someone else backyard.

Anyone else up for camping?

Friendtastic

This month has been friendtastic. First my BFF surprises me with a mid-week knock at my door. The BFF lives in Chicago. Then my good friend from San Francisco comes to town and we meet for coffee drinks, chat and chat while the rain poured down outside--we chatted the rain away. Today I breaked from moving everything we own to the box to the left to hang with my friend from high school, who was our class foreign exchange student from Mexico, and now lives in Rome, Italy; came back to St. Louis for a visit. I invited our other good friend over to the house and we ate lunch and caught up on our lives in person. Real conversation, not emails and instant message chats. Oh course a photo to mark the moment.

Then while we continued to move everything to the box to the left; the moment D has been waiting for came early. Her bestie who moved to Massachusetts last summer arrived in town 5 hours earlier than expected. The squeal of three friends greeting the bestie "home", becoming four, could have been heard for miles. I was flashed back to many years of the girls' booming voices when they converged in our basement . A boom that lit my heart for friends separated now by distance but not by heart. Oh course a photo to mark this moment too.

Like I said a friendtastic month!

Preparations

There has been a sudden change in temperatures around town. It won't last long but long enough for me to escape town to a cooler region.

So with that said I am busy today; and the directions I sing sound like this:
To the left
To the left
To the left
To the left
To the left
To the left
Everything you own in the box to the left.

Hot Summer

Every time I step one foot outside I think Charlie Daniels Band will be waiting to fiddle me the song "The Devil Went Down to Georgia"...unfortunately the devil is stuck in Saint Louis; although I am wishing him down to Georgia, or down to anywhere but here. Oppressive heat suffocates us here. Gatorade is replacing milk at meals. Pool water that is suppose to fell refreshing is more kin to bath water. And the dog has canceled her summer track season. Now you know it is hot when Uli chooses to lay all day on the ceramic tile floor of the "red room" opposed to kicking up dirt while sprinting the yard.

Hot I tell you. Hot!

All this heat drags a person. While I am getting things completed, I am not getting everything completed. That means one thing: rushing around in the days to come. I am churning the wash machine as fast I can. I have a few floors yet to mop and toilets to scrub. In between I run this kid here and that kid there. All the while an alarm clock ticks in my head reminding me I'm on a time line.

The alarm clock is set to go off on Saturday morning at 9am. I can hardly wait!

Good-bye Summer Playhouse We Enjoyed You For The While

I was shaken from my slumber this morning from a dream that had back ground music; and the song was Gary, Indiana.

Summer. It seems to have us moving more than during the school year. As one obligation ends another begins.

After chiseling off five days of hair spray over spray off my skin and wood floor from curling D's hair in spiral curls that needed to hold through a performance in the dreadful St. Louis humidity and mopping up eye shadow residue; the curtain on Whitecliff Summer Playhouse [in the park] The Music Man has come down. The stage is silent--for a while.




Life in the house paused from the clock's summons today; I so needed the break from rushing and late nights. So, the house got scrubbed. Smile.

The pause is short lived as we are about to begin a regiment of color guard.

Sigh. I was liking the pause in the calender and the chiming of the clock's alarm.

But alas, it's about the girls and treasured memories.

A Father's Day Tribute

Imatating the likeness of a dad like King Ralph can be hard but, with a Flip Video it makes creative juices flow. I believe the girls did a pretty good job capturing their daddy in some of his more memorable, I mean unforgettable, moments--in this Father's Day tribute. These moments are the reason they laugh and love him. It was the gift wrap that required no fancy paper or tape.

Happy Father's Day King Ralph!

The Best Alarm Clock Is Sunshine on Chrome

I woke this morning at 445am, crawled out of bed at 5am to a liking of Tim Allen in Wild Hogs. There stood my man in his blue jeans, rustic orange Harley T-shirt (that he bought in San Juan over spring break, because it seems he collects Harley shirts like old ladies collect spoons on vacations), the black riding boots and...a doo rag. Oh-my-gosh what a sight! Then I went to move the car to the street so he could get the hog out of the garage and I felt rain.

Then the next layer appeared.

A rain suit.

I thought he owned a rain suit for fishing but, it turns out that when I close my eyes something new--and needed-- appears. Necessaries. Of course. Like the special underwear he bought yesterday for twenty bucks. I don't even own a pair of twenty dollar underwear. Good thing the dog only has a taste for the female undies. These golden undies are made specially for riding; I take it from the looks that the fabric is more breathable. Underwear are underwear to me. Wear a few holes in a pair of Fruit of the Looms and wa-la, breathable panties. Or better yet, stop riding, stand-up and let air circulate around saddle bound seat. There was also a special waterproof sissy bar bag (known to us females as luggage). Next there was the speakers he purchased and mounted to the handle bars to which he can play his iPod through...music, wind in the face, new luggage and fancy panties down a country highway what more can a man desire?

At 830am King Ralph woke his family with a text message picture of all the guys' Harley's resting at the gas station. D was less than impressed as she was in a sound slumber. M shakes her head and I just giggle; forwarding the message to the cousin's wife. Princess A shared some wise cracks with the gals from work which also had her doctor boss inquiring.

In the mean time I am tracking the trip through the bank. I can see how far they have traveled by where the debit card says the boys fueled.

Then we think the trip has met its high by traveling the highways and byways we get a final text picture message of Frank from the History Channel's American Pickers. Seems that King Ralph and his cousin noticed the American Pickers boys in the hotel. Next thing they know they are buying one of them a beer and chatting up a storm about the old bikes they uncover when "picking".

The girls gave King Ralph a Flip Video camera for Father's Day to record his trip and the guys attempt to mimic the Wild Hogs movie.

So while the gang of guys stretch out the celebration of fatherhood I am left home tending to a full calendar of band trivia night, band car washes, four days of summer community theater performances, dishes, laundry....

Only Bikers Know Why Dogs Stick Their Heads Out of Car Windows

I did something I swore to the good Lord above I would never do-- in order to preserve the life of one parent; ride on King Ralph's motorcycle. It was all the King really wanted for an anniversary present. So I obliged. I put on the helmet he specially bought for me, which is a cross between looking like a Storm Trooper and Transformer. Of course a gal like me cannot saddle up on a Harley without the offspring rushing out with cameras to record the moment for all time. When I first started on the ride I felt like I was on a roller coaster without a safety bar. It was kin to my fear of heights with no security boundaries. I laced my fingers through King Ralph's belt loops and locked them to my palms till the hands were purple and numb with finger nail indentations. To ease matters I stared at the back of a helmet that said "skid lid." Then suddenly when I least expected it I fell right into a comfort zone--placed my hands on my lap and let the wind hit my face as we cruised down the country roads. In front of us were King Ralph's cousin and his wife. We stopped at a wine bar that over looked the Mississippi River sat on the patio watching the Cardinal game on the outdoor screen, ate and sipped wine. Well, I sipped wine.

Next thing I know King Ralph decides he and I, along with the cousin couple are a little motorcycle gang. Another scheduled excursion for us four the following weekend was planned. There we sat on the patio of the Montelle Winery all of us sipping blackberry wine, listening to my co-worker's hubby's band sing to us on a beautiful May 30 evening.

Now this motorcycle loving brainwash needs to stop because I found myself on the back of King Ralph's bitch again heading to his sister's to swim. If my offspring weren't bad enough with cameras, my sister-in-law had to snap photos for herself as we headed home.


As Father's Day approaches the cousin-in-law and I are sending our men on a real life Wild Hogs trip. A trip like this does not welcome the wives. To which I believe deserves an--Amen!

Hello Summer You and I are About to Meet Again

Tomorrow is the last day of school...I mean work. I can hardly contain my excitement. And, it's a holiday weekend. So I've got plans that will keep me from this keyboard.

I plan to hang with my BWFs and sip cocktails and toast what was a great school year--after the bell rings and we all wave good-bye to the buses.

I plan to BBQ and swim with family on Saturday. Because working on that summer tan and eating foods cooked on an open flame is the best way to start off the summer.

I plan to celebrate twenty-three years of wedded bliss to King Ralph on Sunday at a winery that over looks the Mississippi River. While I sip my wine I will be listening to my co-worker's hubby's band play.

I plan on Monday to celebrate the silencing of the alarm clocks and sleep till my body says it wants to wake.

Then I'll be back on Tuesday.

Till then....

My Day of Lasts

It seems like I blink and the days of firsts become the days of lasts. I stand in the middle of the kitchen screaming AMEN!, as I pack the last lunches of the school year. I have a break from the worry of do I have enough sandwich baggies.

Three more days. Just three more days.

For me those three days are full days, for the girls short days. Short days filled with stressful test taking. M is a more relaxed teenager than D haven taken three AP test a few weeks back. To which I really holler an AMEN! because I am not sure I could have handled much more of M's stress level at that point.

Today also marks D's last piano lesson with her (and Princess A's) long time music teacher. I have been scurrying across town for nine years to make lessons on time, giggling at there rewards of a single Pez for a lesson well performed and staring at the giant pine tree suited for a Rockefeller Center Christmas tree [that consumes the entire front yard] for nine years and today...today that all ends. Bitter sweet. Fear not the piano will not be silenced as we meet a new teacher next week.

So I say...good-bye school lunches, till we meet again. Good-bye Mrs. Johnson, may the silencing of the piano in your home and idle parents parked at your curb bring you a joyful retirement and mostly in honor of the kids, good-bye 6th hour, may your finals' questions be kind and easy.

Opening Day

The next best thing to opening day at the ballpark is opening day at the drive-in-- Skyview Drive-in.

We like to treat the drive-in like it is our dinner theater. We opt for a more gourmet pallet of pre-show foods. Sure we have the standard fare of M&Ms, Mike & Ike's, Raisinettes and popcorn when the sunsets, but....we like to start things off with a meal that turns heads green with envy. For this opening day we had a menu of teriyaki pork tenderloin, hash brown casserole, Zia's salad and bakery bread.

Now we still relish in the scents that make the drive-in the drive-in--concession stand grease, bathrooms that have lines as long as Texas is wide (that sometimes can't keep flush up with the patrons needs) and the smell of wet gravel road dust; which is drowning in years of mystery scents. All the things that make the drive-in feel like going home again.

So I present to you: "how we roll"

The Klopeks Unveiled

The evening air has a feeling of a summer family camping vacation, warm but with a cool slight breeze-- the kind of cool breeze that welcomes a camp fire and a cocktail. This comes on the heel of a rather hot spring afternoon.

While no fire is blazing I took to the deck for a Cinco de Mayo celebration for uno. Just me, my margarita and my book. The peace and tranquility it offers is a nice ending to a busy work and mom day.

And.

The view of the Klopek house is even more alluring with a margarita glass in my hand. Maybe the fact that the landlord and an accompanying neighbor made an inside visit to the mysterious closed up house yesterday makes it more bewitching to stare. Since I am the farthest thing from a Mrs. Kravitz I miss out on all the sudden dramatic events that happen footsteps from my front door. I am told there was a screaming match as the landlord defended herself from the harsh words of the Klopek.

While no illegal activity was spotted we aren't ruling out that there may still possibly be a little girl tided up under the mountain of crap that lines the walls to ceiling and floors of the house. Who knows there is probably a lone pot plant in there vying for sunlight. No furniture was spotted except for a trundle bed that the little Klopek sleeps on. It is noted that the poor kid didn't even have sheets on his bed. There is no couch. There is no kitchen table. Which in all honesty I would think nothing of that if it weren't for the fact that there probably isn't basic furniture pieces in the house due in part there is no room for it amongst the crates of crap. I guess one would say it is an episode for A & E's Hoarders. Nicey Nash wouldn't want them, there is nothing to sell in a yard sale. My favorite is the collection of trash bags the Klopeks had lining the backyard. Clever hoarder he is brought in a small trailer with high plywood sides, loaded the trash bags to the top in that ghetto rig to hide them. Really?! How about paying for a once a week curbside trash pick up? Last week he ran out of gas (I think) for his mower and the back yard looked like an alien ship landed. You know like a crop circle, except not as detailed and artistic as a martian can make. I would place a bet that a martian did land, walked in the house realized the single path way through was to narrow for his beefy martain physique, scared to death at the sight of what earth presented, trail blazed it back to his ship high tailing it back to Mars. Yesterday the landlord sent in a landscaping company to cut the yard properly.

You know my dead azaleas in my front planter are looking better and better to the neighborhood.

There you have it...the Klopeks exposed. They are genuine hoarders!

Project Runway

As I have spent a week scampering around a bolt of black "watered" moray taffeta, shreds of cream cotton jersey knit, thread trimmings and straight pins with yellow flower heads...I realized tonight it was, is worth it.

Tonight the high school hosted there own version of Project Runway. We sat in the front row in front of the stage--feeling like we had those seats only the A-List celebs get at the runway shows. The fashion show music was spun by a beloved high school classmate with a flare and knack for disc jockeying. The fashion creations...well, most good, some great construction while others bordered on the line of loving hands from home and tranny mess. The kind of tranny mess that would give Michel Koors and Heidi Klum nightmares for years and put Nina Garcia into a coma. Still it was all about the teens trying there hand at a craft that has fallen by the way side but is slowly making its way back in the world of desired skill/talent--sewing.

So my little (tall) fashionista decided after years of stitching her own clothes she was ready to let the world judge her talent.

With a bolt of fabric M got from her grandmother she designed an adorable fun short and flirty skirt. A skirt with a high waist and a thick elastic waste band. M paired it with an off the shoulder T embellished with brushed gold chains that picked up the gold dual zippers that accented each side of the skirt. No pattern needed. Just a creative mind along with the desire and skill to work the Singer.

After the girls all strutted down the runway and the judges took a good look at each entry's construction up close, the winners were announced.

M won first place in the casual category.

Who knows maybe one day M will hear Tim Gunn saying to her "carry on carry on."

Those Forgotten April Holidays

Those forgotten April holidays and I am not just talking April Fools Day, which by the way I seem to forget every year.

I was sitting at my desk yesterday working and listening to the radio when the DJ announced it was "remember your first kiss day." I stopped and let my mind wander back to my freshman year when Jim Clark kissed me in the courtyard of the commons area during a hanger dance. At the time he was the buff jock who made good grades and I was the new girl in school. When the BWFs got back in the office I asked who was their first kiss? Then we started asking everyone who came through the office. There were some good stories of kisses in the back row of the movie theater and kisses in the fifth grade on the playground that got the school hot under the collar. There were some disturbing stories of kisses had way to young. We all remembered that first kiss. We did our part well in celebrating this forgotten gone by the wayside holiday. The laughter we had in our moment of reminiscing made the day.

So then I got to thinking, what other holidays in this month of April are we missing out on?

Not to let "remember your first kiss day" get all the glory this month how about we celebrate these gems as well. Join me in entertaining ourselves this week. Take special notice that today is "Tell a Story Day." The gals and I at work shouldn't have much trouble with this day since we all we love to tell stories.

Do take notice that "National Hairball Awareness Day" takes up two days this
week--Tuesday and Friday, or is that a typo? I think the hairball just doesn't get the respect it deserves. I'm expecting poems from all of you on Wednesday and I suppose you'll find some dancing in our little office on Thursday and, well, us all appreciating great hairstyles on Friday. . And, since it is honesty day if my hair looks like shit I'm expecting those who pass me to tell me. We will celebrate the week's end with a handful of raisins-- the healthy snack that is a good source of iron.

So here you have it, a list of the week's forgotten holidays:
April 26th
Pretzel Day
Hug an Australian Day
Hug a Friend Day
Remember Your First Kiss Day

April 27th
Babe Ruth Day
Tell a Story Day
National Hairball Awareness Day
National Prime Rib Day

April 28th
Kiss Your Mate Day
Great Poetry Reading Day
National Bulldogs are Beautiful Day

April 29th
Shrimp Scampi Day
Dance Day
Zipper Day

April 30th
Honesty Day
Hairstyle Appreciation Day
National Raisin Day
Arbor Day (Always the last Friday in April)
National Hairball Awareness Day (Always the last Friday in April)

Well I should part here, have to stop by the store for some Baby Ruth candy bars to celebrate The Great Bambino's day.

I Think My Neighbor May Be Related to the Klopek's

Remember the Tom Hanks movie The Burbs?

Next door to me is a rental house that mimics the Klopek's. Never mind it is clearly outlined in the subdivision by-laws that no home can be rental property. We try to forget that the landlord who should know better lives four houses up the street. It doesn't, well didn't-- before landlord left this earth from sudden death-- much matter that not only us but the young couple on the other side of the rental house had moaned calmly our disgust.

The house is creepy! Every single window is blinded down tight...never breaching to catch a ray of sunshine. Never does a light bulb gleam in the dark hours. There is a movie camera in the front window capturing who-knows-what because we never see anyone come for a visit...or to mow grass or shovel snow. There is no trash service scheduled over there. Instead the trash is collected in black yard bags, piled in the back of a primered-unplated-tireless-pretty-much-dilapidated-going-nowhere pick-up truck. We affectionately refer to the "renters" as "the vampires". Because who else lives in such mysterious darkness, than a vampire? Once the vampire was three months behind on the rent and in the eleventh hour saved himself by presenting the landlord with nearly four grand in cash. CASH! Who pays rent, late rent, with a large wad of cash? We all have our own ideas. Most on the same path of thought.

Saturday M and I along with our neighbor and her three-old twins had our own Ray Peterson moment. You see the Vampire and his baby vampire (who does emerge for trips to the bus stop but never utters a word) was rumored to be out of town. As we all stood there chatting about the vampires my neighbor said we had to see what she has to look at out her windows. What I no longer can see since the magnolia tree sprung its spring look. So we all strated to make our way over when the video camera was brought up,; "hell I don't care about that camera" as I danced for it-- in case it was recording. Wait, the constant blue light shining is signal it is always in record mode. Then we trudged up the driveway to see rows of trash bags, guts of a car interior and tires all strewn andheaped around two beater cars. M then says "I see a crack in the window I'm going to peek." Our neighbor says "careful there may be a little girl tied up in there." We all laughed by the humorous comment when really who knows what goes on in there. Then one of the twins squeaks that she wants to look, her mom replies "no honey there are drugs in there." We all giggle again. Then we strolled back home without really uncovering much substance to our wonderings.

What is in there? Or goes on in there?

Time can only tell.

Time is going to tell sooner than later. You see landlord's estranged wife is now the keeper of the keys to his kingdom. She too thinks the place is a bit on the creepy Klopek side. She has scheduled a walk through to access things... well she wanted it this past week when the vampire so curiously had to go out of town. Curious, huh? Well those of us who book end the Klopek like house believe so.

So I guess until then we all sit back staring at the drawn blinds on the dark house with its landfill building in the backyard while a video camera records us walking the sidewalk as we all wonder what is going on and what is inside there.

I live next door to a Klopek. And, we are all turning into Ray Peterson and his friends.

Lost and Found

I spent an hour this afternoon looking for my vacuum. Really a vacuum doesn't just up and disappear inside a house. It was aggravating me to no end. Then I got M looking with me. I looked in all the usual possible places; laundry room, storage room, front foyer closet. She in the not so usual places; sump pump closest under the stairs, linen closet, her room.

No luck.

Called King Ralph to ask if he know.

No luck.

Then I looked in M's room one more time myself. B-I-N-G-O.

It is a sure sign your kid's room is a real pit, hell hole, dump.... when you lose the vacuum in the room.

Enough said!

On second thought...MAVERY CLEAN YOUR ROOM TODAY!!!!!!!!!!!! OR ELSE.

Conversations With the King

In the past week the spousal unit, King Ralph, and I have had some memorable conversations.

Conversation One

Me: Ummm your bitch sure likes to shop.

King Ralph: What do you mean?

Me: Well you left your email up and I saw she bought herself some new fenders.

KR: Oh gosh I spent $50

Me: I don't care what you spent. I'm just saying she shops more than your wife.

KR: I haven't bought anything for "the bitch" in a long time.

Me: Since last spring. And. She is getting a new coat (paint job). The bitch is getting, like, a new spring wardrobe. Just saying.


Conversation Two
ring ring goes the cell phone


KR: I just wanted to let you know M was with my at the Murphy's and she got pale and her eye starting rolling back and well she started to go down, but I caught her.

Then there was the long detailed story of how he reacted with his skilled emergency response training, yada, yada, yada.

KR: and I am taking over to the firehouse to have the guys check her out.

Me: Let me know if she checks out okay. I'll call the doctor in the morning.

Conversation Three

Me: M passed out while she was sitting getting her blood drawn.

KR: Is she okay?

Me: Lucky me had an orange in my purse that I didn't eat for my lunch. I peeled it and made her eat it. We stayed for 20 minutes then came home instead of heading right to school. I fed her a heartier breakfast than what I had in the car, then onto school. Think I should call the doctor to alert them of this episode?

KR: YA!

Epilogue

King Ralph's bitch (aka as his mistress aka Harley aka as "that motorcycle") got a new paint job. In my opinion she went from her vintage look to looking like any other bike on the rode. While her fender thing-a-ma-jigs are, well, something similar to the old thing-a-ma-jigs...maybe a bit shinier.

M's been diagnosed as anemic pops pills everyday and looks forward to the impending constipation that added iron will bring to her life. On the scale of life constipation seems like a better deal than passing out and being dizzy all the time.

O Dark Thirty Hours

The title represents the ridiculous hour in which I have to make more of those Godforsaken bandwiches tomorrow.

It's not the fund raiser that gets to me it's the O dark thirty hour call time!

Don't worry I am going to start peddling the trivia night fund raiser (with the open bar) really soon. No I am going to start begging you all to form a team and buy a table from us.

The Reason I Still Buy Jelly Beans

I had planned on skipping a beat with Easter this year...not buying baskets of candy, instead slipping a gift card or cash to the girls. When I mentioned this to King Ralph...there is always a corn field in my house, and one of many ears caught wind of my comment and moans "Princess A still got a basket of candy when she was a Freshman in high school!" So I revamped my original thought bought a sprinkling of candies and other goodies (flip flops and fun tanks), slipped a wee bit of cash into a plastic egg for each and did the traditional bunny baskets. Except I didn't hide them this year. I figure basket hunting time was better spent straightening and teasing those bumps they all like to wear in there hair.

After a feast of honey glazed ham, Kari's Egg-cellent Egg Casserole, hash brown casserole, blueberry muffins, strawberry short cakes and mimosas (for the 20 and over crowd) I snapped a picture of my babies to remember why it is-- I still buy and eat jelly beans.

In the Blink of an Eye

This once cute little girl called home tonight and says "I'm calling to hear the story of my birth." A ritual routinely practiced each year the night before the girl's birthday at bedtime.

This year, on her birthday came the telephone request...with a sorority sister listening in.

Now the once cute little thing I helped create is a twenty-year old beauty.

In the blink of an eye.

Happy Birthday Princess A. You are loved!

Hanging With Mr. Faleepo

Saturday night we were hanging out with Faleepo Head.

Faleepo is cool. He is friends with Tim Reynolds of the Dave Matthews Band and TR3 and St. Louis radio personality Dan Strauss of the Big550's Frank O. Pinion Show, among others. Faleepo once guest hosted on the show. He is totally down with the "AM in the PM".

Faleepo has been friends with Dan and Tim since the 70's. By the looks of his video debut (at the end of the video) he was hanging with dudes who were dabbling in some illegal activities. Then again don't most musician types have a sored past? That they video tape? Poor Faleepo seems to have been mistreated and kicked around a lot back then. Why he is still friends with these guys after all these years is a mystery to me. Faleepo believes himself to be so cool he even has his own Facebook page.

Faleepo graced us with his presence last night at Bill Clevlen's annual trivia night. He was pretty much a hallow head of a team player. He just kicked back, smoked a cigarette, drank a bottle of wine till he passed out and hammed it up with Ian the Peon (...or is it that Ian hammed it up with Faleepo?).

Our thought in inviting Faleepo was he would help us to retain our third place title again this year. He did not. Like I said, he was a hollow head of a table nine team mate but a score of 85 and fourth place ain't nothing to sneeze at.

Spring Break Costa Altantica Style

Getting back into the swing of routine life is a bit difficult when you have had the Caribbean sun kissing your skin for seven glorious days. Somehow I drug through Monday and then crashed at 7pm, sleeping till 530am. I woke to a Tuesday weather report of warm air and sunshine--just what the doctor ordered.

Last Thursday as I laid on a pool lounger on deck 10 switching back and forth between my novel and watching dolphins chase each other and the ship…I was a far cry from the torrential road blinding rain storm we drove through almost a week before that brought me to that place; that place of tropical relaxation and tranquility. Sunshine has a way of doing that. So does boiling hot sand on Morning Star Beach in St. Thomas that sends all running, no matter age, to the crystal blue and turquoise water. As does a Spanish fort in San Juan and crashing waves on Cabbage Beach in Nassau.

The dining room was another story. All I will say is the hamburgers at the pool bar saved my life each day. Things like this: seafood pasta with a dwarfed octopus placed on top was most definitely an appetizer killer. Don’t even get me started on the turkey with giblet gravy! I give kudos to the asparagus flan and the snow crab quiche, but I don’t have a lot of praises for the chef of the Costa Atlantica when he puts red and green candied cherries in the baked Alaska. I love me some candied cherries, IN MY FRUIT CAKE AND HOLIDAY STOLLENS, not in my baked Alaska!

The girls had a good time being silly
All us girls

We had a great time on the ship dancing

Relaxing with a good book

Most of all...being together as a family

Because after all that is what a family vacation is all about. Enjoying being together.

Most of all thankful the girls all have cameras they remembered to capture our memories when I forgot mine (because D moved it from the packing spot).

Till the Fat Lady Sings

I am in that moment of crunch. I am feeling the pressure. I will get it done. And then sleep in the car. All day!

I'll keeping going until....

Monday

I am in serious count down mode. I have company that stretches way past the confines of these walls. Spring break cannot come fast enough for us all! Time to get off the hamster wheel of life for a while, relax, choose our own busy-ness, have a cocktail on a Tuesday, sleep in late...you get my point.

I am preparing to let my favorite black boots rest in the closest. Instead giving my sunglasses a work out.

Which reminds me...Princess A I left them in your dorm room please don't forget to pack them with your stuff. A week of squinting just wouldn't be an fun!

Today's weather is like a spring break preview. I smile.

Cash is King and Sleep is Over Rated

Friday Midnight

Before I know it I will standing in a cafeteria with music blasting in my ears while my head trys to scream back, unsuccessfully, "turn it down" and a mass of people crank out 4000 subs. While I hone my counting skills double checking if the orders were filled correctly; I will think about Friday night's fun.

Trivia.

Trivia itself was rated W for weak but the team players rated G for great. Weakest trivia I have ever been to. Lowest turn out ever for Project Graduation trivia night. It was crazy how slow things went. The flower category sucked a big one! It was apparent we are not drinkers of to many mixed cocktails according to the drink category...like who the heck drinks a greyhound? I thought the greyhound was 1. a form of mass transportation or 2. a dog who runs races. Not a cocktail! Odds are if I bellied up to a bar and told the bartender I wanted a greyhound he/she would look at me like I had two heads. I did however leave the evening $198 richer. King Ralph and I won the 50/50. I would have donated it back except with the budget cuts in the district I decided to be greedy and keep it. I bought a jacket at the silent auction so I donated part of the winnings back.

We marked our tie breaker sheet for 68 and ended the evening with 65 total points. Not our best, but we had a hell of a table buffet. One drunk dude from the losing table came by and started loading a plate with our buffet selections. We were all so dumb founded we just stared in shock at his audacity. Then once I realized who's table he came from, not to mention the fact it was an all male table who came armed only with a five-gallon barrel of hard pretzels and a cooler of beer...well, you begin to feel sorry and proceed to load them up with your leftovers. King Ralph found another guy in the men's room hugging the toilet while his buddy instructed him to "lock his knees" while he held his head over the toilet. Really!? How old are these people? Sure we had some wine, beer, margaritas and a little spiced rum at our table but we all left collected and upright.

Okay if I stop typing and get to sleep I will clock 4.5 hours of rest before the sandwich song starts playing at ten thousand decibels.

Saturday 437pm

I actually got 3 hours of sleep before the alarm summonsed and the sandwich song started playing. By the time we finished making 3100 bandwiches and delivering the bandwiches I was so tired I could hardly hold one eye open and find my bed. M too. But I did and so did M. I napped like a queen...no a princess because a queen would still be sleeping. M must be the queen, she is still sleeping. I'm jealous! To be 17 again.

I am so tired and you'll never guess what I am cooking for dinner? Bandwiches. (I say that with an evil but serious giggle.)

Not Even A Bad Cold Can Stop the Show

We jacked D up on some DayQuil around 530pm so she could belt out musical tunes for her March concert in order to not be subjected to sniffling-sneezing-coughing-aching-stuffy-head adding hand to: so-you-can-sing. The miracle medicine! Then she shimmered her face with eye shadow, blush, lipstick and false lashes...then dressed.

Performance Costume Recipe

1 Sully from Monsters Inc.
1 Little Mermaid
1 Flamingo dancer
100 yards of velvet
50 yards of rhinestone
Generous sprinkle of glitter

Put all ingredients in blender on high.

This is what you get....the most hideous costumes ever known to the world of show choirs!However, despite the on going complaints from the girls of Limelight, the all female show choir, about the costumes, they put on a fabulous show last night! The song collection--a tribute to woman power.

I got in the auditorium early enough last night to get a good seat. A seat right behind the Band of Sisterhood known as old ladies with the worst cheap old lady perfume ever produced and salon styled hair that met teasing heights that should be illegal. Even the Limelight mom sitting next to me commented on how bad the old lady perfume was. It was bad! I decided not to crop my pictures so I can remember and reflect on how creative I was in my attempts to maneuver around the ten mile high hair and gallons of Aqua Net hairspray while holding my breath for an hour.

Regardless the jazz hands live on.

Curt Cobain, Or Sting

That time is creeping up--spring break. It is hard not to count the days down with the kids, and not just because we plan to hit the open road, but because everyone in the world of school does. No matter what your age.

Everyone who knows us well knows when we take to the road we have always entertain the girls with a "best of" album. Learning all the words to all the songs--a requirement. Because, for no other reason than music fills the soul...or in this case, the car. Who can complain when a teen can sing and appreciate everything from Patsy Cline and the Carpenter's to Lynyrd Skynyrd and Jefferson Airplane?

So imagine the reaction from the crowd when I suggested Michael Jackson as a possible pick. "For the love of Jesus no Michael, please no mom" moans M. "Jesus loved Michael" I spit back at her. "Really mom, no!" chimes in D from the back seat of the car. "How 'bout Nirvana?" she asks. How 'bout it? Then at work the "young one" in the office begs me not to torture the girls in the Michael way. She comes back to work yesterday with her and her husband's suggestion of Sting. Hmmmm, that certainly would be a great front runner. Never done Sting before.

Still, why not Michael? Sure he was a twisted soul but he was a musical genius and a legend. Can't you just picture the beauty of the girls in the back seat swaying back and forth in a chorus of We are the World as we zip down Highway 55? No instead they want to remind King Ralph that the car Smells Like Teen Spirit as they strum their air guitars and beat their air drums.

Okay Cobain is a strong possibility. He too was a musical genius in his own twisted soul kind of way.

Then there is Sting. Sting & The Police, better yet. Then we can hear the girls sing the stalkers anthem of Every Breath You Take from the rear of the car. King Ralph could serenade me from behind the wheel with Be My Girl. While I won't reveal our destination I will say this, that Ain't No Sunshine will NOT be our weather song of the day (week) and the only way I will be able to get word to you all will be from a Message in a Bottle.

Okay seems Sting & The Police win! For good measure will let Cobain sing a few rounds as well. Maybe even let Michael pop in for a visit (just to torture the girls).

I like to play fair.

I shall commence with the CD burn.

Until we meet again...happy sunshining Thursday!

I had a great weekend of sunshine and warm air. While it was 43* here in St. Louis on Saturday, I ventured down south to visit Princess A at college, for AXO's Mom's Day, where the temperature was 52*.

The thing you got to love about Cape Girardeau is that on one block you can see a camouflage truck with a gun rack and the next block over you can see a hoopty driven by a thug. To spice up things even more you can find Dracula in the grocery store, in February, serving samplings of blood orange juice. Then one isle over you can find an old man with snow white mutton chops accented by a black hair piece (odds are he thinks we all believe that is his real hair, lol). You also can spot a guy on a bike with a baby bike trailer attached, except no baby in the trailer instead an Irish Setter. That takes walking the dog to a whole new level. I doubt warm air brought these oddities out but I guarantee it contributed to the college fashion fare of running shorts with Ugg boots--cool legs, warm feet.

It's Monday and my weather man reported today's weather with this song

Regardless of the heavy clouds and no rain there is one big reason to love Monday, this Monday...the season finale of The Bachelor!

There is One Gal in the House That is Glad This Week is Almost Over

Its been one of those weeks for M, one of those that she is ready to put behind her and conquer the next.

We started the week off at the neuro ophthalmologist trying to figure out if a fourth eye surgery was feasible. Our long time eye doctor/surgeon didn't fell comfortable with surgery as a possibility or as a solution and wanted another opinion before any of us making rash or haste moves. The eye exams are tiring for M. She said working her eyes over is like me trying to do the splits over and over again. I was totally prepared to sit for hours in the waiting room. I know how the Center for Advanced Medicine works from spending a vast amount of time at the Spine Center. They move slow, really slow. I never head there without packing an overnight bag and a cooler. So imagine our surprise when we arrived at 830am and left the office at 10am! (I learned it is always better to be the first appointment of the day, they haven't had time to get behind.) When it was all said and done we left the place with the scorecard reading it's a win-lose situation. Win because M won't have to have a fourth eye surgery, lose because they can't fix her constant side double vision without altering her present (cosmetically near perfect) alignment. God love her she hardly complains, says she stopped mentioning it a while ago because it is what it is. M once described herself-- while wearing a back brace, eyeglasses and braces on her teeth-- as a cracked glass. I tell her better to be a Waterford goblet with a crack than cheap lead crystal with a crack. My M is definitely a Waterford goblet. She is mighty fine even with her small "flaws", besides I see no cracks in the Waterford crystal just perfection and beauty.

She had that darn Color Guard section leader try-out-- a try-out that was conducted in a manner never done before (and quite honestly not exactly in the fairest of like or similar ways to the rest of the marching band). It sent her over the edge on Wednesday night. King Ralph helped her out and he said he "choreographed part of her routine." M says "ya, he was like put another of those swirls in there and another of those tosses in there." King Ralph needs to stick to what he does best and flag spinning just isn't one of them. But you got to love him for his interest, help and encouragement. Like the person that M is she went in there did her stuff and left knowing she gave it her all. Now she sits and waits for results. Results that should not take as long as she has been told they will take. Patience is a virtue...it's a lesson being learned in this process.

Last night she spent two hours with a math tutor trying to grasp Algebra II concepts. Math is not and never has been my strong point. So I sat there at the table for a while with them feeling like this form of mathematics is an extension of the Chinese language. I just cross my fingers she does well on the test today. I think M has my mathematical philosophy in her genes: all you need to know is percentages (mostly 10,20, 25, 40, 50 and 75%) for shopping the good sales, simple fractions for cooking and basic math for balancing the check book, everything else is fluff...unless you are going to be a rocket scientist and then my theory goes right out the window. M assures me she isn't going to be studying rocket science in college.

Well M while I know you aren't going to be a rocket scientist just go out in the world everyday doing your best and being the best you you can be!

Buckle Up

How many of us remember the days when we hopped in the car and just drove off? No seat belt required? I do. Crazy days those were! Can you even imagine not wearing your seat belt now? I can't. It's like my wedding ring, I feel naked without it.

As a mom I instilled in my daughters the need and purpose of the seatbelt early on. Now with two young drivers at the helm of the wheel safety is instilled and drilled even more. So this commercial makes a great deal of sense--to not only show my girls but to share with everyone.



Remember, to always buckle up!

The Buried Life Has Got Me Thinking

Truth be told I am a lover of reality TV; no matter how sick and perverted it can be. Our TIVO is chock-full of the shows, everything from American Idol to Project Runway to Biggest Loser. My very favorite is The Bachelor. (dare I mention King Ralph is enjoying the show in a sick male kind of way this season.) I love how we girls at work gather on Tuesday morning, and afternoon, to analyze the bachelor and the hound seeking babes. There is however another reality show I love just as much for a totally different reason-- The Buried Life.

I love The Buried Life for its pay it forward message as much as its way to make people think what would you put on your bucket list and what you want to do if you had one day to live.

This episode drew out my tears

The Buried Life - MTV Shows

The Buried Life - MTV Shows

After I watched the most recent episode of the guys trying like hell to play a game of basketball with the president...I began thinking what would I want to do if I had one day to live. King Ralph and I talked about it together and came up with something.

We love national parks and we love to hike. There is nothing that compares with walking through nature, breathing clean fresh mountain air, hearing the babbling of brooks while bonding with those you love, then standing at the top of a mountain feeling that close to heaven. It's simple life at its best. It is a goal of ours, as a family, to visit Yosemite and hike the mountains and trails of the park. So we decided together that if The Buried Life guys approached us we would tell them it is our desire to hike Half Dome.

As for a bucket list, gosh I am not to sure what all I would put on it. I have few ideas but not many.

What's on your bucket list and what's that one thing you would want to do if you had one day to live?

A Dance and Dining With The Dead

Last night was the "Snoball Dance". A dance that was less snow and more rare but welcomed sunshine on a warm February Saturday.

First pictures with the freshmen.

Then pictures with the juniors
The dress lengths were short and the shoes were all rockin'!...also where my camera battery went dead.

Then King Ralph and I escaped to our favorite pizza/sports bar for a few spirited beverages and a bite to eat [at the bar]. (I forget but I think we call that a date.) It was here I caught glimpse of an urn sitting in the center of one of the pub tables. It seems we crashed an Irish wake--a first for our favorite eatery. The mourners appeared to revel less in grief and more in beer. The urn was a coaster and the ashes were toasted--not with words but with the clink of a Bud bottle to the marble urn. Mr. Ashes was then passed from one friend to the next as the mourners decided whether to stay and continue partying in an Irish wake fashion or to leave..who should take'm home. When Mr. Ashes finally left his eight hour memorial party there was one lone ranger left sipping beer, waiting for his safe ride home.

There you have it a dance and my dinner with the dead.

You've Got Mail

Yesterday I e-mailed a short note to M's marketing teacher, who was also her Personal Finance Management teacher last year (that required class was full of out-of-control crazy teens making for a stressed teacher), turning out to be her favorite teacher of this year. I felt compelled to apologize to her for M not being able to attend state and nationals; seeing where that trophy could take her in the world of DECA. I felt more compelled to write the note since the male unit of the house is feeling like it is all his fault, walking around with his head hung low and his heart aching. M has assured him there are opportunities that await her in the future and not to feel any guilt. That eases some of his guilt but not all.

I got this nice note back.

I would have never thought that Maddi and I would have such a respect for one another after our first experience teaching PFM and having the class with me. I don't believe Maddi would have thought the same way a year ago. However, I knew she was special and hoped I would have the opportunity to share my true passion with her at some point. I feel I have been blessed with my past three candidates having won the coveted district leadership delegate. Maddi seemed truly honored to be asked to be my delegate, I knew I had the right one. Her care in writing her paper and preparing for the interview told me I had chosen a winner. Although the national leadership conference is awesome, I feel both Maddi and xxxxxxx xxx will carry their passion forward next year as Chapter leaders. She WILL have many opportunities to represent DECA and LHS next year through our program.
Thank you for the note, and enjoy your time together over Spring Break."

So I guess we feel a little better. The male unit is going to feel better about his decision to make spring break plans at a slower pace, but I think he'll get there...when the sun hits his face.

The Winner Is...

It was a big day for M. DECA Districts.

She won a blue ribbon for "Best Dressed for Success" in the advertising campaign category; of which she and her two friends competed. Sadly they did not place.

M also was chosen to be one of two leadership delegates for the high school. Competing in the leadership delegate category meant she had to write a paper and be interviewed.

Guess what?

M won FIRST PLACE out of forty other delegates from twenty different schools.

She is so cute; as she was doing her homework on her bed she looked up and asks for me to bring her trophy to place on her night stand. "You want it close by to look at it" I say. She smiles proudly in that little girl way and replies "yes."

M is stretched out in her bed tiring and when she slumbers tonight a trophy will glistens in the clock's digital light gleam, then greeting her in the morning.

It will say to her what I have always known--You're great!

Fat Tuesday

We partied on Saturday with huge pots of gumbo and Emeril's red beans and rice, washing it all done with hurricanes. They came masked and beaded.

While the good Christians of this world are thinking about what they are willing to sacrifice over the next forty days and forty nights; I feel I have given up a lot so far. Twelve pounds to be exact. Along with my double digit size pants.

I have given up caffeine. I have given up sweets. That was some time ago.

So...if this isn't enough already God, here I am come and get me. I'll give you forty days to find me ;-)

Paper Hearts and Hershey Kisses

A few weeks ago my niece, M and I flopped on the couch to watch this movie; our Saturday Redbox selection:


PAPER HEART: Movie Trailer - Watch more top selected videos about: PAPER_HEART, Michael_Cera, Charlyne_Yi, Jake_M._Johnson, Nicholas_Jasenovec

Without a doubt the dumbest movie, or as it is referred a mockumentary, we ever saw--we all agreed on that!

I did however find my Valentine Day love note line in the movie for King Ralph.

King Ralph asked me to marry him on Valentine's Day. I saw on CBS This Morning a poll that stated that 85% of married people would marry there spouse again...I would be one of those eighty-five percent. Sure King Ralph drives me batty sometimes. He can be a man behaving badly. He can swear like a drunken sailor (which infuriates me), spends to much time in the garage with his other woman "Harley" and he sometimes thinks the bath tub's edge is his clothes hamper...but despite he makes me happy; not to mention his 50% of gene pool made some gorgeous girls.

So to my King Ralph, last year I told you you were the cheese in my macaroni. This year a little African American girl suggested "true love is when you take someone to Applebee's and get them hot wings." So what you say, wanna get some hot wings with me today? XOXO

Snow Day

I am going out to shovel the four plus inches of snow off the driveway. After last night's dose of reality TV--The Bachelor-- it will be good way to work off some of that Vienna dislike and maybe even a pound of two.

Some Dreams Aren't Meant to Come True

I am slow to get going today. I dreamt all night that the weatherman would be my fairy godfather and there would be a snow day. I so want to lay around and watch old movies.

Well, maybe, tomorrow.

Plan B

I have been watching King Ralph's niece every year this week for I don't know how many years, a lot, while Debbie and Dan go on the stations listeners trip (to some tropical location while we stay here all freezing our arses off). We have escaped all these years all and any forms of illness that could be contracted while I drive niece to and from school for a week.

Until today.

Poor baby woke up with the stomach flu and didn't tell us. "Would you have told your mom if you threw up in the middle of the night?" "Yes." "Then you have to think of me as your mom while you are here." "Okay." It was a sheepish okay. Wondering if the sheepish tone was from her still feeling like a volcano ready to erupt or plainly embarrassed she puked at her aunt and uncle's house.

Suddenly I was thrown into Plan B mode. Except in all these years we have never had a Plan B. King Ralph HAD to go to work today; he has a very important task to tend to. I really need to work today as one person is already out of the office with her sick child. Thank the Lord(!) that King Ralph's oldest sister is in town. Plan B! So I called just as the rooster crowed and they agreed to be niece's nurses for the day. THANK YOU!

Things always have a way of working out. Don't they? Yes they do!

Weather Man Tells Truth

He was telling the truth. I know this because at 730am I shoveled the driveway, an inch and a half of light fluffy snow. And, even at 20* outside temperature I didn't feel a bit chilled as I enjoyed the peace that transcended through the neighborhood at that hour on this Saturday.

Where Have You Been?

Where have I been?...I know you are wondering.

Maybe I have been here all along but you didn't notice me because
A) I have lost nearly ten pounds
B) colored my hair Nice and Easy 119 (a brown tone)
C)I use invisible ink to blog
D) all of the above

Maybe you are wondering what triggered my sudden blogging this Friday night after the long hiatus
A) a mucho margarita at El Agave
B) a grande margarita at El Agave
C) a adjetivo margarita at El Agave
D) all of the above

Really friends, I think I have had writers block. Believing for myself that my life is so mundane that no one would really care to hear about...the people I have been people watching at the gym while on my quest to be skinny again. Like, man in shorts with a belt. Who in the world comes to the gym wearing pleated pin stripe shorts with a leather belt accessorized with a cell phone holder and some other electronic device holder? Can you really lift weights effectively dressed like that? No one except that creepy man, and when I say creepy I mean only CREEPY can work out dressed like that. One can just tell, no sense with female intuition that a dude in a gym wearing such an outfit barely exercising is bound to be a five o'clock news headline. Then there is tin foil woman. She wears this silver foil like suit to increase her sweating in order to expedite her weight loss. I have been missing her lately so she either is off her regular routine workout schedule or she sweated to death. There is barefoot man. He likes to hit the tread mill shoeless as if he is a Kenyan marathon Olympic hopeful. My all time favorite is the senior citizens--God love'm-- they hit the exercise bikes wearing blue jeans and wool plaid shirts. Not sure if they intended to chop wood and lost there way only ending up in a gym. There's the old woman who comes to work out in her sweat pants, turtle neck and monogrammed sweat shirt. I swear to you I am going to put my Red Cross CPR card to work when she drops from being over heated. My fave is the old dudes who somehow believe they are Jack Lalanne in there tight sweats and tank tops, tucked in. The tattoos flowering there forearms tell the tale of there veteran status.

Sunday I like to do Jesus and workout. Church first then to the gym. Actually this becomes a family affair, all us Avery's jazzed on Jesus pumping iron. I think people find it odd that I have a full face of make-up on at 930am, but I find it odder to see a woman wearing washed out black denim--accessorized with my favorite, a belt-- lifting weights before hitting the elliptical.

So you have been wondering where I have been and what brought me back to the blogosphere? The answers to the questions are: D) all of the above

In the mean time, till I blog again, I think I will watch out the window to see if the weather man is telling the truth. Will snow really fall from the sky here in Saint Louis.

Chore: Untrimming, Say it isn't so

Before we could even get around to undecking the halls there was something we had all been waiting to do...or should I say see.

Up in the Air.

Debbie, my sister-in-law, and Dan, her hubby were in the movie Up in the Air. It was one of King Ralph's official responsibilities to watch over the interviewing process of all the extras for this film--that was partially filmed here in St. Louis--so he got them an in. We had tried to see the movie on our annual family Christmas movie outing but it was sold out all day and night on the 26th. We ended up splitting our group that day-- half saw Avatar half saw Sherlock Holmes. Finally last night we all went and saw Up in the Air. For a millisecond we saw Dan, twice, blurred, on the big screen in the Omaha airport scene. No Debbie. Thanks to Dan's breif moment on the big screen when he gets his star on the Walk of Fame he can have both the radio and the movie emblem on his star. As for the movie...loved it. That George Clooney is so easy on the eyes. The ending was not what I had expected and I liked that for a change. We continued the days fun with food, spirited beverages and games. Seriously, we should have played Tripoly for money instead of just using the chips. I would have owned Vegas.

Today King Ralph, D and I went to church for a most beautiful Epiphany service. While M could not be roosted from her bed and Princess A laid in bed with what we thought was yet another case of strep throat, which it isn't so we are waiting for the cultures to come back and cross our fingers it isn't mono again. (We should have gone to some place other than Walgreens for the test.)

Then it was time to undeck the halls. I usually wait to the day of Epiphany but who wants to mess with the disassembling of all those decorations after a day at work? Not me! So I undecked today; the fireplace mantel--no more garnish of pine garland, holly springs, pine cones and gold swirlies. No more stockings embellishing the fireplace accessories. No more lighted pine garland capping the crown molding of the kitchen cabinets. Good-bye pine garland swirling on the post downstairs. Toot-a-loo gold glittery snowflakes hanging from the ceiling. Gone are the Christmas trees adorned with ornaments that trigger warm and fond memories. So long Santa figurines.

The two weeks of no school and work has been sweet. We feasted on fabulous foods. Watched enough Redboxes to support Hollywood. I even talked the whole darn family into playing non-stop rounds of Racko. (I bet King Ralph wishes he wouldn't have got me the game for Christmas now.) Relaxing, chillaxing, vegging...those days and late nights must end now.

Oh Christmas parting ways is such sweet sorrow...but we will meet again...sooner than we think.