Thunder...thunder...THUNDERCATS -- HO!!!!!!

Sorry about the blog post title, peeps. It just thundered outside my window, and instead of it making me think of the obvious (rain), it harkened me for a brief moment back to my childhood in the 80's, back when my older brother dominated the television, and we watched shows like the ThunderCats.

I'm not gonna lie. I love the rain we are getting today. And have had for several days now. And might be having for several more.

***

This morning my quilting group decided not to meet. I have to say, there are some weeks it's like pullin' teeth to get me down there, on account of the amount of things I'm usually trying to tackle that day. But I do love those ladies, and we have such a fun time together. So this morning, I was a little disappointed to be missing my weekly "pick-a-little-talk-a-little" session. (Now, if you don't know what movie that is from, shame on you. You'd best get yourself right out to rent "The Music Man"!) So I decided to make the most of it and use the same amount of time to get a little fun sewing done. That's right, only fun sewing. It's been too long since I've been able to sit down and make something just 'cause I felt like it.

Just before I sat down to sew, I popped in my most recent Swap-a-DVD acquisition. It's been a few years since I'd seen it, but I was pleasantly reminded of how much I LOVE this movie. It is definitely my #1 favorite old movie. Every single detail about the movie is utterly charming. Leslie Nielsen was quite the dreamboat in his day -- good thing those goofy "Airplane" movies from the 1980's were not the pinnacle of his career. Oh, if I evah had the opportunity to dress up like Tammy and pretend to be a Southern belle like this, well Nell's bells, that would be somethin'...



(The movie takes place in the late 1950's, but these are from a scene where all of the characters get dressed up for reenactments.)

Then I cranked out some nine-patch blocks for this. This "quilt-a-long" calls for one nine-patch block to be made every day until sometime this summer, when there should be enough blocks to sash together to make a quilt similar to this inspiration one:


(Inspiration photos and quilt courtesy of Flickr user "Swim Notes".)

Heaven knows I have enough fabric and scraps to spare, so I figure I'd best join up on this one! Since it started Monday, I used this morning's movie time to get caught up, and to get ahead, since I might be too busy to crank one out tomorrow. Here are my offerings so far:






I also finished the other April block for the Pieced Together Quilting Bee. Here is my block for Erin:


She asked for "squares and rectangles", and that is what I came up with. Not the most difficult block to make, but those awesome retro fabrics speak enough for themselves without me having to make up some complicated block. I'm really enjoying the virtual quilting bee.

***

I read this charming blog post this morning and was immediately taken over by the green-eyed-monster -- come on, how quaint is that, renting a cherry tree in the English countryside?


(Image courtesy of HenHouse. If you've never visited her blog, brace yourself for oodles and oodles of cute things, not to mention the fact that I guarantee you will become taken over by the green-eyed-monster as well when you see her cottage in the English countryside!)

I'm afraid the only thing worth renting 'round these parts in the countryside of Wonderland might be some peach trees where you could pick up a few bonuses of ticks and chiggers, not to mention the accents here aren't quite as enchanting as those over the pond. Yep, not quite as romantic of a picture I just painted for you, huh?

***

Now that I hopefully will be able to do more and more fun sewing (now that the crazy busy months of March and April are over), I am also participating in this: Craft Hope Project 2: Casa Bernabe Orphanage. If you've been reading my blog for any length of time, you'll know that my beautiful son (trust me, he's beautiful, even if his picture has never been posted on here) is from Guatemala, just south of Nicaragua. The orphanage is located in Nicaragua. Craft Hope is working with Eren and the ORPHANetwork to provide handmade, soft-bodied dolls for the children. Many of the children come from abusive situations and the dolls will allow the children to develop the mothering and nurturing instincts that most little girls have. Their main requirement is that the dolls have dark hair and dark eyes -- just like my gorgeous boy. I can do that!

I sure as heck have never made a doll, but now is the perfect time to put that Wee Wonderfuls "Olive and Archie" pattern I bought over a year ago (or more?!) to good use. I'm going to try to make more than one -- my personal goal is one boy and one girl. I'll keep you posted.

***

Last, but certainly not least, I have to send out a shout-out to my Spud Bud, Courtney, who was a willing participant and let me drag her to a music concert with me last night. Oh yeah, baby, we might have been the oldest cats in the room, haha, but we had fun. (I can't help it if I'm wise beyond my years and enjoy listening to the some of the same music as most young twenty-somethings, haha.) Not only was the music pretty enjoyable, but the people-watching wasn't too shabby either. Anytime you are able to nickname characters with the terms "Man Boobs" and "Trenchcoat", well, there are bound to be some good times.

I'll leave you with this video I found on YouTube -- Mr. Costa singing my favorite of his songs, "Miss Magnolia" (although I still maintain that I like the studio recording much better than the live version):

"No mean feet".

I bought this happiness-in-a-bottle last week at Target.

You all well know that I am a sucker for all things vintage -- so the retro-ey goodness on the package immediately sparkled and caught my eye. (Darn those marketing geniuses -- it's the same problem I suffer from with Anthropologie -- I am such a sucker for anything vintage. If you need proof that I could be the poster child for Anthropologie, you should check out this lengthy, but fascinating article on the Anthropologie obsession for some women, including me, myself, and I. It's almost embarrassing how well they know their devoted consumers, like those stupid horoscopes that seem to somehow shamelessly peg your characteristics...and everyone else's.) Back to the foot lotion: I wasn't so easily swayed by the higher cost -- $10 -- nope, it was really just the knowledge that nothing else has worked to transform my terrible rough heels so I might as well give it a try.

I am unashamedly a flip-flop girl. I may not live in California or even remotely close to a beach (more like smack dab in the middle o' the country), but my tootsies like to see the light of day year-round, even if it is freezing outside. This, of course, means my heels could be likened to sandpaper of the roughest grit. They are horrible. No matter how I try and take care of them, sloughing them off at least once a week, slathering them with lotion, they always seem to find their way back to their sandpaperey state by the next day. I personally have not seen many heels in worse shape than mine.

Thank the good Lord above for Heel Genius. It smells fantastic, is a pretty shade of robin-egg-blue, and it has already been hard at work transforming my heels into happy, friendly, soft heels. So far, I'm sold.

Thank you, and God bless.

Picnic Frock GIVEAWAY!!!!

As usual, I am salivating over her latest creation. Oh, the money I could save if I could make these delicious frocks for myself on my little sewing machine.

Picnic Frock GIVEAWAY!!!!

Earning my keep

No such thing as a free lunch? I beg to differ. This morning at Target I used my coupon from Kashi for a free frozen dinner, and now, here I sit, eating a free (and actually healthy) lunch of Lemongrass Coconut Chicken. The fact that it didn't cost me a dime makes it taste even better.

Over the last few months I've slowly been sucked into the world of couponing. I'm not nearly as hard-core as some of my friends, but I've saved quite a bit of money nevertheless. This morning alone I saved $9 in coupons on my small grocery run, and I didn't even have to use very many as all of them were between $1 and $2 off. Besides the free lunch, I also scored deodorant completely free.

If you've never tried it, here are a few websites you could check out to get started:

Coupon Cravings
Money Saving Methods
Daily Savings from All You Magazine
Money Saving Mom
Stretching a Buck

(All of these can be added to your Google Reader, or whatever blog subscription service you use, which makes it very easy to read through their posts.)

Like I said, I'm not hard-core in the least -- I buy the Sunday paper only about half the time (as often as I remember), and I certainly don't print off every coupon known to man, but my theory right now is: if I already buy it (or at least might consider buying the same product by a different manufacturer), I'll use the coupons for it. If it is a good deal and I don't already purchase it (or something similar), I don't bother because no matter how good the deal is, if we don't already use it it will probably just take up space that we don't have. There is an exception to my rule, though: if it is free after coupons and something they can give away at our church's local food ministry, I'll also consider it. If I had more storage in my house, I might become more hard-core. But at least for now, I'm pretty pleased with how much money I've saved our little family. And so is my husband.

Raise your hand if you love random.

A random, rainy Monday, just like I like 'em...

Today marks the four-year anniversary of my dad's passing. It's crazy to think it's already been four years since it all happened. I still miss him a whole lot, but every year that rolls around seems to get a little bit easier. I'll be keeping a close eye on my right hand ring today...

This morning I am also taking my boy to the doctor for his four-year-old check-up. This is big for two reasons: 1. I cannot, absolutely cannot believe that I am the parent now of a four-year-old!, and 2. he hasn't been to the doctor since his three-year-old check-up. Amazing, huh? My little healthy man went an entire year without any doctor visits (you can't count the time he had to go in for his flu shot because he wasn't sick). I am pretty darn excited about that point!

***

This weekend the mailman was good to me and brought me a DVD (via SwapaDVD) that I have been patiently waiting on for a long time:




If you haven't ever seen this one and you are a lover of old movies, you must check it out. Debbie Reynolds is fantastic -- it is such a cute movie. And of course, this movie is responsible for the fact that eventually I would love to live in the country and own a goat named "Nan".

Here's a lovely little snippet for you to watch:



The DVD is actually a triple feature with "Tammy Tell Me True" and "Tammy and the Doctor" -- these were both sequels to the original, but they had Sandra Dee instead of Debbie Reynolds and are not quite as good, in my opinion. I did love Sandra Dee as Gidget, but no one can replace Debbie Reynolds in my mind as Tammy.

***

I should clear this up: my Google Reader is probably not loaded with quite as many blog subscriptions as you might think (based on my post last night). One of the subscriptions is for a Flickr group of sewing photos -- those add up quickly, and this time accounted for over 250 of the unread posts I was talking about, even though in that case, they weren't really posts but separate pictures that had been uploaded of various projects people had been working on or had completed. When they add up like that, I simply hit the "mark all as read" button and move on. I am also a "skimmer" when it comes to most blog posts -- I don't always read the content word for word. But if they are my favorite blogs, I do take the time to soak up every bit of information in the posts. So that's how I roll, in case you were wondering. I really don't spend all day on the computer like you might have been assuming...

Tickled Pink!!!!!

I finally sat down this evening after a long weekend of go, go, go, and go. My Google Reader listed something like 400 unread posts (I won't bother to tell you how many blogs I subscribe to as it would cause me to dig a hole in the ground and bury my shamed head in).

When I checked a fabric blog post from three days ago I first read through it without a thought and was just about to move on to another unread blog post when it occurred to me that I could have sworn I saw the word "Valerie" at the top. Thank goodness I went back to check it because lo and behold...

...I WON A QUILT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Seriously. Shock and awe over here. Crazy excited about this news. I mean, come on, A QUILT????!!!



Hello, aqua + red. Seriously, did they know that is my favorite color combo?



Thank you, FreeSpirit Fabrics. Thank you, Karen Grey, for such a generous and gorgeous giveaway! Your quilt will have a very good home to live in where it will be much loved and appreciated and admired.

I can hardly believe it and will be pinching myself for days to come. I love this bloggy little world...

I would walk 500 miles...

Now you know I love me some treadmill. (My grammar is impeccable, don't you think?)

And lately, my thighs are loving some treadmill, too. So far in the last month (give or take a few days), I have logged about 63 miles. I walk 4 or 5 nights a week, 3.1 or 3.2 miles in 45 minutes (depends on how long the Gilmore Girl episode I am watching is). It seems to be doing the trick, taking the pounds off right where I want to lose them.

But this guy? He really loves him some treadmill. Really.

10 Random Memories from Childhood

For no reason in particular, I am going to list out 10 memories from childhood that make me smile. I suppose you could call this a "meme" (why in the heck are they called that?) and consider yourself tagged if you read it. I've just been extra sentimental lately in thinking back to particular memories and thought I would share. Personally, I love to read these sorts of things about my friends (hint, hint) because it makes me feel like I am getting to know them even better.

1. Saturday night at our house was pizza night. I'm sure there were one or two Saturdays a year that were skipped, but from as young as I can remember through high school, we had pizza on Saturday nights -- either from Ken's Pizza or Mazzio's. And as a family we would gather around the TV and watch "The Muppet Show", "Solid Gold", "The Love Boat", "The Mandrell Sisters", and "Hunter". Oh, and "Knight Rider". (I bet you have the theme song from "The Love Boat" stuck in your head now, don't you. Haha.)



And here is a YouTube clip of Marilyn McCoo singing a duet with Peter Noone on "Solid Gold". Totally makes me laugh remembering that show...



Occasionally we would have the rare treat of going out for pizza to Crystal's. It was this awesome restaurant that had great pizza, tons of games for the kids like skeeball and such and prizes you could get with your tickets, and the decor was really fun. There were lots of rooms and different nooks and crannies to eat in -- my favorites were the little movie theater where they showed classic cartoons and the main room where the live pianist played.

2. Sunday morning breakfast was always Pillsbury cinnamon rolls. To this day I really don't like any other cinnamon rolls because without that trademark cream cheese icing, they just don't taste right to me. But none of those orange variety ones, gross.

3. I'm not sure why, but at some point during my elementary school years, my parents put a little black and white TV in my room for me to watch. I didn't get to watch it a lot, and we didn't have cable, but I really remember watching reruns of The Real McCoy's. I used to love that show!

4. My dad killed several rattlesnakes on different occasions in our backyard. I remember one in particular was discovered when my brother was kicking around the soccer ball and heard something shake. It's amazing we never got bit, I suppose.

5. We lived a few blocks away from a national art museum (Native American and cowboy art), and in the summers, my dad would take us every week to see the movies they would play in their auditorium for free. I loved the quiet cold galleries, the smell of the auditorium, and the fact that it was just me, my brother, and my dad. They were always old Disney movies, even some black and white old movies, and that was so magical to me. I remember seeing so many movies there, but only a few I can remember the titles of -- "That Darn Cat", "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn", "Tron" (haha), etc.

6. I grew up with two grandmothers, a grandfather, and a great-grandmother all very much involved in my life from birth until college, when they all started passing away. I got to see them all probably at least once every week or two, and I know I am super blessed to have had so many grandparents in my life. It makes me sad that my boy has only one grandparent that lives close because I know those relationships are so important.

7. We weren't rich growing up, but my parents really made an effort in so many areas to give us opportunities. We had piano lessons (and violin lessons for my brother) every week from age 5 until 18 (minus the summers), we went on one family vacation a year, and my mom took us to shop at Dillard's (a nice department store) for our clothes when she could. Looking back I am amazed at these opportunities we were afforded since my parent's combined income was not a lot, and I am eternally grateful for the fact that they made sure we had these experiences.

8. One of my favorite memories at my grandma's house (my dad's mom) was dragging a little wooden table and chairs out to the driveway and eating donuts outside in the mornings on her driveway. Proof that it is the little things in life that kids usually love the best and they often don't require much money.

9. My grandmother (the same one) would give us silver dollars or silver half dollars every year at Christmas (along with other presents). I still have all of them in a little tin box.

10. To this day I absolutely love love love the smell of freshly cut grass due to it reminding me of my dad. It seems like he was always mowing the lawn in the summer (although I know he was doing much more besides just that), and I used to love helping him bag up the grass. He always wore a white undershirt (short-sleeve, not the wife beater ones, and sorry, that's what people call those around here) and the same pair of old raggedy jeans or shorts to mow in. What a creature of habit, my dad. He also had a particular navy plaid corduroy button down shirt (raggedy as well) that was the "dog-washing" shirt. And a particular plastic cup that he always ate his nightly serving of ice cream in. That cup currently resides in my kitchen and is a prized possession of mine.

Getting my craft on

Others may bring the sexy back. Me? I bring the random back. Boy, do I ever...

***

While my three-year-old was pulling out a tape measure, the following was overheard:

"One minutes, two minutes, fee minutes...TIME TO GO!!!!!!!"

***

Overheard this morning at breakfast:

"Cereal makes you skong." (strong) -- I will not tell him to change how he says "strong" -- it is way too cute as it is, especially when he lifts up his little arms and flexes his biceps every time he says it.

***

Apparently we have the official Welcome Wagon at our house. One evening last week I let our two bigger dogs out in the front yard to do their business. A young couple was walking by and our son stood in the doorway and yelled out:

"WHAT YO NAME?" -- several times before they realized what he was asking. They politely answered and asked him his name, which he promptly screamed out, followed by the question:

"YOU COME A MY HOUSE? YOU COME A MY HOUSE TUESDAY? PEASE? PEASE, PEASE??" (Tuesday is the only day he seems to know as everything happens either "last night" or "Tuesday".)

The best part might be the fact that he was standing in the doorway in a t-shirt (little white Hanes undershirt) and his underwear (of the Superhero variety), with his skinny little three-year-old boy bare legs. It would have been perfect if I had been next to him, barefoot and pregnant (of which, no, thank you, I am not).

I'll be on the lookout today for any visitors we might have eventually take him up on his offer. The boy is nothing short of persistent. And much like the great Will Rogers, he never met a man he didn't like. Oh yeah, the "stranger danger" conversation is going to be a fun one...

***

Just in case we all forgot this is actually supposed to be a crafty blog, I have been doing a lot of sewing this past week. I cranked out three reversible superhero capes for birthday presents -- what in the heck will I do when all the little boys in our life have all gotten one? It has been my "go-to" present for almost every little boy we know this year. Then I actually sewed up a little quilt top to donate for my quilting group at church. The other two ladies (both grandma's, mind you) have cranked them all out so far, and my participation has been limited to hand-sewing the binding on (which I am perfectly happy with since that is my favorite part) and making labels on my computer and printing them on fabric. They think I am such a clever little whippersnapper because of those labels, so I'm afraid I was riding on the coattails of that praise for as long as I could, but I finally broke down and contributed a quilt top. Don't look too close as it is far from perfect, but hopefully it will be a comfort to some little kid who could use it. I'll be sure and take another picture of it once it is tied* and bound.


*Our little quilting group is called "Prayers and Squares" and the quilts are all hand-tied instead of quilted on a machine. With each knot that is tied, a prayer is said for the recipient of the quilt. Oh how I love my little quilting ladies.

Last night I also gussied up a handful (okay, more than a handful) of treat bags for my son's upcoming party. I'd show you, but you know how I roll -- there will be a big party post in the near future of all the party details. Super cute, I tell ya'.

And then finally this morning I finally sat down and made one of the April quilt blocks for the Pieced Together Quilting Bee.



It's a log cabin (not wonky like the last time) for Stephanie. I thought I would surely be sending several scraps back with it for her to use, but I barely squeaked by with what she sent, mostly due to not thinking it completely through on my end of things. Thank goodness I ended up with enough, although I feel kind of bad that those outside strips are so narrow. Oh well. Now I need to crank out the other April block, but it may have to wait until after I am done with my sewing for the big partay.

***

Last, but certainly not least, I started reading the book they forced us to buy at the book signing on Sunday. (Go figure -- they actually want you to buy a book to have signed??) I can sum it up in one word so far: HILARIOUS. I am totally loving it.

A Little Bit Wicked on a Sunday...

Is it bedtime yet? Boy howdy, was today ever a doozie. But it ended up being super fun, and like always, I managed to find some good blog fodder...

Recently I found out there was going to be a book signing in my city that I wanted to attend. I told my mom about it, and the next day she called to tell me that she had just read an article in the local newspaper about the book signing. The newspaper article said that if you believe the things you read on the Internet, this book signing could draw quite a crowd, and that people from miles and miles away were possibly driving in for this. I began to rethink my decision, especially since I really had no business trying to squeeze it in on an already busy Sunday. So by yesterday afternoon, I had managed to talk myself completely out of it. And just for good measure, I had my husband call up the bookstore to get their take on the whole thing, what they were expecting, etc. Sure enough, they echoed the newspaper's predictions, and they said that if I wanted a signed book I should consider getting there by 11am, even though they thought that the line would actually start forming as soon as they opened at 9am. All for a book signing at 2pm. Hmm, at least 5 hours of a Sunday that I didn't have to spend? Nope, not gonna happen. I wrote it off as an impossibility.

Fast-forward to today when I was driving home from church. I figured it wouldn't hurt to swing by the bookstore and just see what the line looked like snaking 'round the building, you know, to confirm my decision and all. This was at 12:15pm or so. Imagine my surprise when the not-so-big parking lot was not even 2/3 full, and there was no line to be seen from the exterior. Hmm. I hurried home, found my mud-caked better half in the backyard (he had opted to stay home to lay sod for the 2nd day in a row, long story) who told me to go ahead. Forget that I had a scooter ride I was supposed to be going on at 2:30. I ran back out the door, camera in hand, and sped back to the bookstore.

Once upstairs I realized the line wasn't too bad, maybe only 50-75 people in line ahead of me. I quickly made a friend in line, and the back and forth bantering and joke-cracking between us ended up being a great way to pass the time. (You can imagine the jokes to be made when you find yourself stuck in the "Death and Dying" section with all the assisted-suicide books. Seriously.) I soon began to tell my new friend in line what the newspaper had said about the turn-out, and how it was confirmed when I checked the fanpage on the Internet, where, sure enough, there were some commenters saying they were driving in from out-of-state. We both were laughing that there was even a person supposedly driving in 12 hours (one way, mind you). What was even more intriguing about this commenter on the website was that he described himself as a forty-something guy with long hair who loved listening to heavy metal music.

Do you know who's book signing we were standing in line for?


Oh yes, Kristin Chenoweth, my beloved "Olive Snook" from one of the greatest (and very under-appreciated) TV shows in a long while, "Pushing Daisies" (shame on you, ABC, shame on you). She is also a Broadway star, most notably from the musical "Wicked", has appeared in several movies such as the recent "Four Christmasses" with Reese Witherspoon, and several other TV shows including The West Wing, and now, of course, author must be added to her long resume as her book released this week, "A Little Bit Wicked".

So the whole idea of a heavy metal rockin' guy willing to drive 12 hours one way for a book signing by Kristin Chenoweth, well, it was pretty funny to think about. Of course, then my new friend was wondering, whoa, did that guy actually come? It seemed like mere seconds later that a Gene Simmons-ish character was spotted, and my brave friend went up to him and asked him point blank if he was from Wisconsin. He was a bit taken aback by the question, but turns out, it was the same guy. Lord have mercy.

My new friend and I were pretty pleased as punch at having discovered such an entertaining character. Rocker Dude even showed us his classical guitar he had brought with him to have her autograph as well. Apparently the guitar was named after her. Devotion? A bit creepy? You decide. Regardless, I totally believed that anyone who had gone to such great lengths to attend this book signing deserved to have their guitar autographed, but alas, this book signing was something out of a Seinfeld episode, much like the "Soup Nazi" episode, but in our case, the "Book Nazi's". (Keep in mind these were all bookstore employees, simply doing their job, I suppose, but it sure began to feel a bit over-the-top in a very short amount of time.)

Oh yes, during our 2+ hour stint in line we heard no less than 10 announcements over the store intercom about the "rules" of the book signing. Every person was only allowed to have one book signed -- there would be no extra items signed, i.e. pictures, CD's, DVD's, etc. (much to my dismay since I was hoping to have my "Pushing Daisies" DVD box set cover signed). No flash photography was allowed -- so we all had to turn the flashes off on our cameras. We were each given a post-it note to stick to the front of the book with the name we wanted inscribed. And we were not to stand behind the table with Ms. Chenoweth in the pictures. We were only reminded of these rules about 4,598 times. And there were no less than a dozen bookstore employees poised at the ready to confiscate any items not in the rules. They were watching us all like hawks, even though I was pretty sure I could take several of them down if I had to.

So, back to poor Rocker Dude. He drove a total of 24 hours to come to this, all for a mere 2 seconds passing through like cattle in front of her table, and no signature for the namesake guitar? No way. I encouraged our new friend to be sure and tell her how far he drove for this (again, devotion versus creepy, you decide) and hopefully she would do the right thing and sign the dang guitar. Sure enough, when it was his turn up to the table, he asked, and bless her heart, she obliged. (It made me smile especially to see the "Book Nazi's" holding his confiscated guitar have to pass it back over for Ms. Chenoweth to sign.) And I got a picture just for you, dear readers. I thought you would appreciate me including a picture of Rocker Dude with his prized (and newly christened) guitar.



(See? I told you, not exactly the stereotypical Kristin Chenoweth fan.)

It was soon my turn to go up to the table. After hours of waiting I actually had no idea what in the heck I would even say to her when I got up there. "I love you" seemed a bit strong; "Let's be best friends" seemed a bit psycho; all I managed to eek out was a very sincere "I'm still in denial about Pushing Daisies" (referring to it's early end), to which she replied, "You and me both, sister!" and gave me a big smile, followed by a "You look amazing in that color! I bet you wear that color all the time, don't you?". Seriously, I could have given her the biggest hug for that and skipped arm-in-arm with her out of the store into Best Friend Land forever, despite the "Book Nazi's" we would have had to fight off on the way out. She is just as warm and sincere in person as I hoped she would be. And so tiny! Most of my life I have gotten the comments about being so little, so tiny, blah blah blah (I'm about 5'1" or 5'2"), but I felt like a giant next to her. She's 4'11" and very petite. I felt like a dork leaning down and over the table for the picture (stupid "Book Nazi's", don't you know that it is not the most ideal pose for anyone?), but my heart was light and happy just the same as I strolled off, newly signed book in hand and picture on my camera.


Yay for spontaneous and unexpected days.

Harry is my homeboy.

Ya'll surely know by now that I am a Harry Potter girl. I've read all the books, and I take my movie releases very seriously. These movies definitely warrant a babysitter (scheduled well in advance), buying tickets for the IMAX showing (if there is one), getting there way early to wait in line for the best seats, dressing appropriately for the possibly chilly movie theater (my Goonies sweatshirt jacket is usually the item of choice), and buying the best snacks (Junior Mints, please). I don't know if I can make it until July 17th! I still maintain the idea that it should have been released last November like it was first scheduled for as November is much better "Harry Potterish" weather (don't you think), but at least July isn't really that far away. Oh wait, three months from today? Ugh, three more months. Until then, at least you can enjoy the latest trailer to be released...

Vintage Photo Friday

I should be cleaning toilets right about now. And scaling Mt. Everest -- the Mt. Everest of laundry, that is. And sewing superhero capes, remember?

But here I am, posting my vintage photo, all for the love of you peeps out in BlogLand.

I'm just nice that way. And humble, too. Oh yes, very humble.


I am quickly running out of vintage photos from my guest room, so I will have to hit my mom up soon for the boxes and boxes of photos in her closets, photos from both her side and my dad's. We could go on with this weekly post for years and years to come, probably until I, myself, am considered vintage, haha.

This is a portrait of my mom's grandmother on her mom's side -- you previously saw her in one of the "shopping downtown" vintage photos, the one with her and her daughter (my grandmother) shopping. I never met this great-grandmother, but one thing I especially love about this photo is that brooch she is wearing. I remember seeing that brooch at my grandmother's house once upon a blue moon. It brings back the memories of spending hours and hours digging through each of my grandmother's jewelry boxes, oohing and ahhing over the scads of costume jewelry they had. Of course, now that I am grown up, it kills me that most of it probably got sold in estate sales, etc. Such is life. Oh, and don't you just love the vintage photos that have been altered with color? I imagine it was somebody's profession to actually do that for a living back then, touching up black and white or sepia toned photos with color by hand. That would have been the job for me. Well, that or singing and playing piano in a swanky nightclub with a big band. Oh yeah.

And the little bunny ornament hanging on the frame? I got that sometime last year (or the year before, I can't exactly remember) from Marmee Craft on Etsy. That website is pure evil -- Etsy totally sucks me in and magically draws the cash right outta my wallet. I am completely defenseless when it comes to Etsy.

Tickling the ivories

Once upon a time there was a girl whose whole life revolved around music. Once it was discovered (at an early age) that she could sight-read practically anything that was set in front of her, her life took the direction of becoming an accompanist (playing for vocalists, instrumentalists, choirs, etc.). She pretty much became known as the piano girl. Anyone that knew her knew mostly just one side of her -- her life as a pianist.

Fast-forward ten years to find a whole different girl. One that spends her days taking care of her household, attending to the needs of her husband and son (most of the time, that is -- she is, ahem, still perfecting the art of cleaning), and living in her own little crafty wonderland (shameless blog plug). The girl still finds time a few hours a week to accompany for ballet classes, but, other than that, the girl rarely sits down at the beautiful piano (Boston, baby, a beautiful shiny black Boston) in her dining room to crank out lovely music.

Until rare moments (like recently) when the girl is invited to provide music for special occasions such as a wedding or a senior adult banquet (don't knock it). It is in these moments that the old persona slowly creeps out from within the girl, and she is once again transformed to her old life, a life of music, music, music. And for these special occasions the girl is able to take on fun challenges to keep her musical brain active, like sneaking in the Wojahn Brothers...



..."Oh No You Didn't!" as a wedding recessional. Oh yes, she did. Snuck it in so those that recognized the song were pleasantly surprised (while silently cracking up) and those that didn't know the song just figured it was another classical piece being used as a recessional.

And then the moments like tonight, where the girl played almost an hour of dinner music while 200-something senior citizens dined and chatted amongst themselves. The girl's heart swelled as she played her absolute favorite type of music in the whole world for an hour up on the stage (that would be Big Band and jazz standards) -- songs like "Stardust" (her favorite song EVER, just an FYI)...



...and "The Very Thought of You" and "Misty" and "Mona Lisa" (and she could go on and on and on). Songs that everyone should know and recognize, and if you don't, well, shame on you for closing your mind to the greatness that seeped out of the 1930s and 1940s. The girl became so entranced in the music that it was a little bittersweet to have to get down from the stage for the main act to perform.

Thank you, God, for evenings like tonight that allow me to escape from the day-to-day every once in a while, moments that remind me of the music You put in my heart. It was fun.

Now if I could just find a steady gig like that, some little dark, swanky restaurant where they could stick me in the corner and let me play away to my heart's content (all while getting paid for it), yep, that would be ideal...

We interrupt this broadcast...

...to bring you the following message:

I am still alive.

These last few weeks have been extra busy.

Busy, but not for any specific reason (in case you were wondering if I was sick, pregnant, adopting again, had finally been shipped off to the nuthouse, etc.).

Sometimes I have felt short of breath from all of the busy-ness. (If you type the word as "business" it looks like a business and not the business of being busy, capiche?)

The busy-ness might not end until May. Every little boy I know on the planet seems to have a birthday in April, including my own soon-to-be-four-year-old.

Many birthdays = many superhero capes that must be cranked out by this one-woman-machine.

Did I mention that I am tired?

Tired, but I have been kicking the treadmill's butt. Seriously. I am back in the game. And my thighs are thanking me for it.

Maybe tomorrow? Or Saturday? Do those dates work for you?

I think I can fit you in for a post between 1 and 2pm on Saturday, or I do have an opening on Sunday around 5:45. Let me know what works best for you.

Just kidding.

Back in a jiff...

Pleated Petal Tank ANTHROPOLIFICATION GIVEAWAY!!!!

Pleated Petal Tank ANTHROPOLIFICATION GIVEAWAY!!!!

Oh my goodness -- stop the madness, please. Can't just a tiny fraction of this woman's talent rub off on me? If only I could be my own Anthropologie-fairy and make my own clothes...sigh...

The Voca People

Amy emailed this next video to me. I'd never heard of them before, but ha! It's pretty impressive to watch...



I'm not too sure how I'd feel about wearing rubber on my head and the white Ronald McDonald makeup, but you know, I guess then it's a bit more incognito.

We crawled out from under the rock we'd apparently been living under to watch "Slumdog Millionaire" last night.

Whoa. I feel like I could type out the word "whoa" about 8 million times and that might come close to what I thought of the movie. And I mean "whoa" in a positive way.

It's a hard movie to watch at times. But then after the hard they reward you with little snippets of sweet here and there, and several moments of funny. It is rated "R" -- I couldn't tell you the last time I watched a rated "R" movie because in the last few years my personal opinion is that most of the "R" movies out there are filled with a whole lot of stuff I don't care to watch, but honestly, this movie probably needed to be "R" to have the same effect on people. I have to tell you also, that it is maybe a tad bit harder to watch this as an adoptive parent. Hopefully that's true of any parent watching it because of the nature of the story, but I can vouch for the extra hard tugging on the heartstrings as an adoptive parent for sure.

Yep, that's all. If you haven't seen it, don't wait around. I am so glad we finally watched it. (Thanks to our local library system -- love checking out movies for FREE!)

Ah, Judy Garland...

Just in time for Easter, enjoy a clip on me today from one of my favorites..."Easter Parade" starring Judy Garland and Fred Astaire (though he isn't too much to look at, he can sure cut a rug).

I'm not sure why there are French subtitles in the first part of it, but well, think of it as a bonus. Or not.

Kids say the darndest things, Part Dos

Heard last night when Papa took him for a last-minute run to the potty before bedtime:

Boy: Cose you eyes, Papa!
My man: Okay, they are closed.
Boy: CUH-PIZE! (the adorable way he says "surprise", and no, I cannot bear to correct it at this point due to it's extreme level of cuteness)

Oh yes. Poo in the toilet was Papa's fun surprise. Gotta love it.

***

This next one's a doozie. A classic, if you will. This weekend we were at a wedding, and a friend of ours is due next month with her first baby. The following conversation ensued:

Boy: That a baby in you belly?
Friend: Yes, it is.
Boy: How that baby get in you belly?
Friend: That's where the baby grows. (Thank you, kind Friend, for leaving it at that.)
Wide-eyed Boy looking in surprise at Friend: You eat that baby?

Oh yes. I can't wait to share that one at his rehearsal dinner in about 30 years.

***

How 'bout this one: in the bathtub, asking if he can drink the water?

Me: No. Absolutely not. That's nasty.
Boy: Pease, my dear?

***

And what is it about boys? His latest obsession seems to be hunting for shapes. Some kids like to lie on their backs in the grass, peacefully watching the clouds drift by, pointing out that one that looks like a rabbit. Or that one that could be a heart. Or that one...

And then there is my boy. He likes to find shapes in his poo.

Oh yes, today he spotted a "tennis shoe" floating in the toilet and HAD to share with me. That's not quite what I had in mind when I was hoping for an active imagination...

For he's a jolly good fellow.

Three cheers for my boy:

HIP HIP HOORAY!

HIP HIP HOORAY!

HIP HIP HOORAY!

He just might have possibly saved the life of one of our beloved dogs this morning. He and I were in the hall bathroom brushing his teeth, and he pointed to Summer, our almost-11-year-old Golden Retriever in the hallway and said, "Mama, Summer is saking!" (shaking). Sure enough, she looked kind of like she was shivering, but it was almost so subtle I'm not sure I would have noticed otherwise. When she got up to walk down the hallway with us, she continued shaking and was somewhat slinking around as well with her tail between her legs, very uncharacteristic of her. I called my husband, who had just gone to work, and he decided to drive home immediately. Of course, after a few minutes the shaking stopped and she appeared completely normal, even wagging her tail non-stop. I tried calling my husband back to tell him not to bother after all, but it went straight to voicemail. When he got home, she was pretty much 100% normal, and I felt a bit silly for having called him. But our boy persisted: "You take her to the doctor, Papa! You take her to the doctor, Papa!" over and over again. My husband obliged.

Thirty minutes later he called me on my cell phone to let me know that she was indeed extremely sick with an internal infection. The vet said she probably ate something awful in the yard or got bit by something in the yard or got ahold of something poisonous. Regardless, he said if we hadn't brought her in, she might not have made it. After a super-shot of antibiotics, he said she should hopefully be back to her old self by Thursday. He also added that for her age, she is in extremely good shape.

So three cheers for my little hero! And thanks be to God for giving him some good intuition and persistence.

The Great RV Roadtrip 2009: Day Three

Dear Readers: It must be noted that after an exhausting weekend, I sacrificed my treadmill time this evening, sacrificed my time with the maddening machine that melts the pounds off of my thighs, just to stay up late and keep to my word that I would get this post up this weekend. Just so you are all aware of my love and devotion to you. Oh, and I hope you'll still love me despite the fact that the word "cute" might appear in this post no less than 4,782 times. Not to mention the frequency of the word "totally" -- apparently I felt compelled to speak like I was back in the 1990's.

We woke up to a bright and glorious morning on Day Three of our little roadtrip, enjoying our breakfast of cereal and milk in styrofoam bowls. Our destination was only about 5-10 miles away, but I still figured we should get a move on to arrive early, just to be on the safe side. So we loaded up the RV, pulled out of our first home-away-from-home-RV-resort (waving goodbye to the goats and llama bleating at us all the way) and headed out. Thank goodness for early bird-planning -- due to an error via Yahoo Maps, we found ourselves a bit lost and about 10 miles out of the way five minutes before our appointed time. So much for being early. We stopped in at a local post office, got the correct directions, and made it there a whopping 10 minutes late. (FYI -- I am a person who likes to be either early or on-time. In my almost seven year-marriage, that desire has been tested on an almost daily basis, as I am married to someone who doesn't exactly have the same ambitions. What used to drive me absolute bonkers has now been accepted as reality due to the fact that I have also learned when to pick my battles and what to just give up and deal with.)

Thank goodness our late arrival was not an issue as we were joining up with a large tour group comprised of other preschoolers and their parents. No one hardly noticed our tardiness due to the large flock of ants-in-their-pants children running around. Where did we end up, you might ask? Why, here...

...at the Shatto Milk Company -- a dairy farm in Osborn, Missouri.

Seriously, this was hands down my favorite destination on our three-day-tour. I stumbled upon their website when searching for fun places to visit, and thought, why not?! Touring a dairy farm is perfect since our three-year-old is quite the milk connoisseur, and it certainly wouldn't hurt for him to see where his milk actually comes from.

We started out in the milking room (don't know if they actually call it the milking room, but that's where we were). There were about 6 or so cows lined up in stalls, and the staff demonstrated how they hooked up the machines to the udders to milk them.


Our demonstrator would pat a cow on it's hind quarters and ask the kids what flavor of milk they thought came out of that cow. For the various shades of brown and red and black of the cows, she joked that they got strawberry milk and plain milk and chocolate milk and root beer milk (huh?) -- it wasn't until later I understood her little joke. One very cute thing was that the cow on the end closest to us, "Pat", was only there for the tours. She had stopped producing milk a while ago, but they kept her around regardless and still made her feel "important" and a part of the gang by bringing her in on the tours.


I thought it was cute that a.) they named each of their cows, and b.) they treated them each with a bit of dignity, even past their prime.

After the milking demonstration, we moved next door to a barn filled with...

wait for it...

wait for it...

wait for it...

NEWBORN CALVES. Lots of them. Sweet, sweet little babies. Some of which were two days old and the oldest of which were a mere two weeks old.

I'm sorry, but there ain't a whole lot out there in the world cuter than brand new baby calves. Especially brand new baby calves on spindly little legs still trying to get the whole balancing thing. And especially brand new baby calves with their eyeballs rolling around in their cute little heads, still trying to grasp that sight concept as well.

Shatto Milk Company knows how to pull at the heartstrings, I tell ya'. They let us stay in that barn area for a good long time, petting and brushing and letting the little calves suck on our fingers for pretty much as long as we wanted. And if the cute factor wasn't already off the charts, all the little babies already had their names -- there was even a "Cupcake" in the bunch -- reminding us all that they would be well taken care of through their little lives and not forgotten as just another sweet face in the herd.


I'm not gonna lie -- the thought of grabbing two of these babies and making a mad dash for it did cross my mind. I am no match for the cuteness. And they would have totally looked cool in the RV.

Man, I was in heaven in that barn. "Me + animals = heaven" anyways, but then change the equation to "Me + calves sucking on my fingers = unbelievable bliss".


(In case you were wondering, dear readers, yes, I am that very lovely shade of pasty white in real life. Notice how I seem to blend in with the white fenceboards? Vampires have nothing on me.)

Oh, the cuteness. (Okay, and maybe, just maybe, I might have been the most excited person in the whole barn, even above the throngs of three and four-year-olds. I was like a kid in a candy store.)

Once they pried my body out of the barn (not really, don't worry, I didn't cause a scene even though in my heart-of-hearts it absolutely killed me to leave my new babies as we were just starting to bond) we all crammed into the little country store/gift shop to sample the milk. Mmmmmmm. Dee-lish. We got to try orange milk (no joke), chocolate milk, banana milk, root beer milk (one of my favorites as it tasted like a melted root beer float), regular milk, and strawberry milk. Pretty good little tour so far, eh?

After that we moved into the bottling side of the tour. First we saw the big machine that washes and sterilizes the bottles.


The owner (also our tour guide at this point) told us that he had to hunt for such a machine as they are not made anymore (in our world of plastic) and go to NY to pick it up. I believe he said that this big piece of metal was made sometime back in the 1950's, you know, back when people knew how to really build quality. Then we went into the main room where the milk is actually bottled and watched the process for a minute or two.


If it's not enough that buying milk out of a bottle doesn't make you feel all warm and tingly inside, they have to go and throw the words "YUMMY" and "FAMILY" on their bottles. Seriously. I'm never throwing my cute bottles away.

In the winter they also make cheese and butter when the milk production is at its height -- in the summer, when it is unbearably hot, the cows obviously produce less.


It is here that my suspicions were confirmed -- cheese should be white. If it is not white, it has probably had some extra little somethings added to it. Note to self: stick with white cheese from now on.

All-in-all a truly enjoyable experience. We stopped back in at the little country store on our way out and bought two big glass jars of milk -- one whole and one 2% (I think) -- took them into our little RV and enjoyed our first glass with some Walmart chocolate chip cookies, of course. And let me tell you something -- this gal will never be the same, thanks to the Shatto Milk Company. No, really. In my almost 32 years on this earth, I have never been a big milk fan. I can tolerate it in my cereal bowl, but you would never find me pouring a tall frosty glass and enjoying it -- until now. Oh, my deliciousness. I am unable to put into words what pouring a tall glass of Shatto milk can do to a person. The freshness just oozes out of it -- seriously, the milk we were enjoying came straight out of the udders that morning. Of course, herein lies the problem -- this here new milk addict (that would be moi) is terribly upset because now that I have developed these new intense cravings for Shatto milk, wouldn't you know, they don't deliver to our city. Or our state even. I will only be able to buy it when I make trips up yonder and remember to take a cooler along to bring back more frosty goodness. Sigh. And before you go playing your world's-smallest-violin for me, just know that my husband has even purchased a few other brands of bottled milk for me to try thinking they might measure up -- but no cigar. Oh, Shatto milk, how I miss thee...

We left the Shatto Milk Company and got back on the interstate to head home. It was roughly a five-hour drive (possibly longer in an RV), and at first I was a bit intimidated by the wild winds. Seriously -- driving an RV on a windy day is about as fun as a root canal. Thankfully they died down somewhat and I was able to loosen my deathgrip on the steering wheel after a while. Although our tour of the dairy farm was my favorite part of the trip, I cannot overlook the other gem of an adventure later that afternoon...

wait for it...

wait for it...

wait for it...

...oh yeah, baby...a TRUCKWASH.

You just thought that the trucker hat and the beef jerky in hand and the spending the night at Walmart was the icing on the cake. Oh, no my friends. You should have heard me squeal with excitement when my husband told me earlier in the day to keep my eyes peeled for a truckwash. I totally already knew where to find one and could hardly contain my excitement the rest of the afternoon. (And yes, I'm totally that girl that pays attention to the strangest and smallest details, and knew exactly where one might find a truckwash, simply based on the fact that we had passed this very truckwash trip after trip in the years previous, and just the word alone -- "truckwash" -- always captured my fascination. Come on, don't tell me you've never wondered how fun it would be to be in a giant carwash? Okay, okay, maybe it's just weirdo little me. I'm okay with that. My little brain is a carpetbag of sorts -- a la Mary Poppins -- you never know what I have stored up in there for just the perfect instance.)

Well, my friends, I'm here to tell you that TRUCKWASH = AWESOME. Hilarious!


I pulled Big Bertha (yes, I firmly believe with all my heart that all RV's must be female -- how else can you explain the sheer genius of being able to take your home with you on the road?!) into the stall (not an easy feat as there were mere inches on each side of where the truckwash dude was motioning for me to pull), and the magic began.


Just like in an automatic carwash, there were giant spray nozzles and brushes and everything that moved back and forth over the entire RV. Then three or four guys came up with long-handled brushes to get all the parts on the top and sides. They told me they had no idea how I could see out of the window with so many dead bugs! When I pulled out of the carwash, it was so crystal clear.


Which, of course, I completely enjoyed for a good five minutes or so until the little dead carcasses started covering up the window again. Ha. Truckwash? Check.

It was on the way home from the truckwash (another two hours to our home) that it really dawned on me the hilarity of me sitting in the driver's seat. I began to notice how many strange or smiling looks I got from other truckers on the road (for the first time in my life, I was sitting up eye-to-eye with those big semi's, now level on the playing field). Neither I nor my husband got tired from all the hilarious looks, laughter, and good ol' boy winks and waves I received. (Haha, no, I am not talking about those special middle-finger waves either.) Aw thanks, my new trucker buddies, for making a gal feel so special.

After we got home, unloaded the RV and returned her to the RV dealership (for an oil change and tune-up), I must admit a wave of sadness washed over me. I really enjoyed driving that RV, and I have a feeling this could be a lifetime love of mine. It was with a heavy heart that I climbed back down into my little Celica and drove us home...

Vintage Photo Friday

(Click on the picture for a closer look.)

This awesome canvas was created especially for my son's nursery. It is a photo of my dad when he was a little tyke. A little background info on when I had this canvas made: my dad passed away the week my son was born (down in Guatemala) -- it was all a bunch of craziness, really -- we had another baby referral actually, and days after my dad passed away, and right before my birthday, we got the call that the baby we were waiting for had been reclaimed by his birthmother. Whether or not that actually happened, who knows, but regardless, it was HORRIBLE timing, especially after the loss of 3 close family members within a month and a half. I expected my dad to live forever and ever (or at least for another 20 years or so), but right after the passing of both of my grandparents (within weeks of each other, and no, I am not kidding), my extremely-healthy-rarely-ever-sick-dad went to the doctor and found out he had Stage 4 kidney cancer and passed away less than a month later. 2005 was truly a bunch of craziness. But we did decide to name our son after him and I was able to tell him this before he passed away (even if he passed away having seen the pictures of the first baby and not the one we actually brought home). So to honor my dad (and since it went along with the vintage cowboy theme of the nursery) I picked this photo to have displayed in my son's room.

Pretty cute, eh? Apparently back in the day, there were traveling photographers who would go door to door and take pony pictures of little kids. So if you've seen similar pictures out there, that's how they all came to be and why they are such a popular picture from that era. I'm guessing this photo was from sometime around 1940-1941.

I loooove this picture.

I saved up all my randomness just for you.

Way too cute. I spotted this picture over on the Old School Acres blog, but it was originally found at Incredimazing.



I mean, come on, how incredibly cute is that little guy and his even more incredibly cute stripey legs?

***

Earth Hour 2009 -- did you participate last Saturday night? The lights were out at our house -- except for the TV. I got the "Twilight" DVD from the library (somehow I was way up on the hold list), and my husband and I watched it. I know, I know -- I was actually not a fan of the movie when I saw it in the theater, but I knew my husband might be up to watching it since he is a huge movie buff and did not go see that one. Sure enough -- he liked it. Really liked it. Hilarious, I think. I'm still, personally, not a fan of the movie, but I do like the scenery (especially the baseball scene that shows shots of Multnomah Falls in Oregon and when they climb up in the trees looking out), so I didn't mind watching it for those reasons alone. He also said the scenery was his favorite part.

***

I've been getting caught up on my March blocks for the quilting bee, barely in the nick of time. I didn't intend to take this long on getting them done, but Spring Break kind of threw me off for a couple of weeks.

Here is the ABC block for Stephanie K.:



And here is the spiderweb block for Sara:



Paper piecing is a brand new technique for me (used for the spiderweb block), but I really enjoyed it and I can see how these blocks could get addictive. They are a great way to use up scraps. And thanks to Stephanie K. for making a great video tutorial to help me figure it out -- if it wasn't for the tutorial, I'm not so sure I could've figured it out so easily.

***

Heard a good song on the radio this morning via Air 1 radio -- "My Last Amen" by the band downhere. Then I found the free download here. Coincidentally you can also get the free download for "When She's Near" by Fiction Family, a video I had shared quite a few posts back. Me, I had no idea about this little free download site and paid the 99 cents via iTunes, so I was at least happy to get this song (My Last Amen) free today. Looks like there are a few other fun ones offered up free right now via that site. And Air 1? You should definitely give them a listen if they have a radio station where you live. This is terrible, but I am not actually a huge fan of listening to Christian music on the radio -- the music is often too cheesy for my taste, the deejays are usually even cheesier, and so I normally just stick with my undiscovered Indie favorites. But my husband and I are monthly sponsors of Air 1, and it is much better (less cheesy) than your average Christian music station. Plus, the boy enjoys the music as well, and it's nice to not worry an ounce about what the lyrics might be telling his little ears (not that I listen to anything that would be inappropriate, I'm just saying). Air 1 -- check it out.

***

I officially canceled my Netflix account today. I have just been enjoying way too many free DVD's via our local library system. We are officially $72 a year richer.

***

Is it possible to dislike the latest Anthropologie catalog? I think so. For one of the first times ever, I am not all that impressed. Thank goodness they come out with new catalogs every month -- maybe May will fare better than April. Although the good news is that I will be saving my money and not spending, at least not at Anthro this month...

***

It was inevitable, I suppose. This week the boy finally asked a larger person, a fifty-year-old-something person, if they had a baby in their belly. Sigh. Which, of course, they didn't. And there was no dirt on the ground for me to dig and stick my head in. Thankfully they laughed and thought it was so cute. Ah yes, cute. Hmmm.

***

Told you this post was going to be random. Can you tell I typed little snippets here and there over the last few days where I could squeeze out some time? I promise that the "Day Three" post of the RV trip will be coming, but I am just needing to catch up on life, and right now, it's not slowing down enough to do so. (Look for it no later than Sunday night -- this weekend is a doozie!)