Now go wash your hands.

My, my, aren't we a sick bunch?

Mike called yesterday to tell us he had been to the University Health Center and had a flu test. It was positive, they prescribed Tamiflu, and he was sending Lovely to the store for drugs and gatorade. He is currently in isolation in his apartment.

Lovely still cannot get rid of her sinus infection. She also visited the kind folks at UHC this morning, and was given a prescription for her SECOND antibiotic. She complained when it cost $9 rather than the usual 3, so I explained about the difference between generics and name-brand drugs. Mike never thought to complain that his Tamiflu was $97.36 - I am not making that number up - since he is not covered under our health insurance anymore. The things we take for granted. . .

Abbie is finally done chucking her cookies, but is now taking steady doses of Imodium, if you get my drift.

And lastly, Pete (yes, that's the dog) also had the stomach woozies, has recovered from that, had five immunizations this morning, and has some weird skin ailment that causes him to scratch and lick until we can't stand him. It's not fleas - possibly a bacterial thing. He, too, is on an antibiotic, as well as antihistamines to stop the itch and skin vitamins. For a dog. I didn't know they made such a thing. His bill was $106.

Too bad I don't get paid for being my family's doctor.

Be thankful ~

Karen

I'm weirder than I thought.

Lisa at Confessions of a Karate Mom has tagged me for a Meme. Just exactly how DO you pronounce that? Is it me-me? Or is it one syllable as in meem? And is it really a word? Does it have a place in the dictionary? Does it stand for something? Oooo, maybe it can be next year's new word of the year! But enough with the questions already, on to the meme.

I'm supposed to tell you six quirky things about me. Betcha can't guess the first one.

1. I love words. I always want to know what roots and languages they come from, what they mean, how they've evolved. I think that's called etymology, but it sounds too snooty, so I'll just say I love words. I've made all my kids study Latin and Greek roots just so I get to talk about them.

2. I love to research medical conditions. When one of my kids calls from college with physical symptoms, I head right to the computer and start researching. I have a diagnosis, drug recommendation, and get-well plan in place before I make the first call to the doctor. And doctors usually hate me for it, but I'm usually right.

Years ago when Ben was in the Navy, they forced him to take a flu shot which he told them repeatedly would have very bad consequences. A week later he was sick. First a cold, then bronchitis, then double pneumonia, then sinus infection, and at the end of three months he had meningitis. He kept going to medical and they kept telling him he had the flu. Finally I called and demanded to speak to Lt. Whatshisname (my husband was a lowly enlisted guy), who got an earful of my diagnosing. I took Ben back, they did a spinal tap, and guess what? He had miningitis. No kidding? Seems like I heard that somewhere else. . .

3. I love liver and onions. I mean I absolutely LOVE it. But it has to be sliced very thin, dredged in seasoned flour, and fried in real butter with a sweet onion. Sweet mercy, my mouth is watering.

4. I love algebra and will sit and solve systems of equations for fun. No, I'm not kidding. And crossword puzzles. I'm a geek.

5. I am technophobic, as evidenced by my very plain blog. I had to get step-by-step instructions to put the She Speaks button down there with a link. Pathetic. I love this site because it's like Blogging for Dummies. Perfect for me. But if I'm such a geek, how come I'm technophobic?

6. I am a NASCAR fan. Of Jimmie Johnson. But I'm a closet fan of Junior. Closet, because the rest of my family doesn't like him. Shhh, don't tell. He's going to do much better this year driving for Hendrick.

So there you have it. NASCAR and liver and etymology. Please don't judge. I'd love to hear quirks from Carrie at Gremlin Wrangler, Jen at Jeneric Jeneralities, although I already know some of hers, Melanie at This Ain't New York just because I love the name of her blog, Sarah at In the Midst of It because she seems so perfect I just know she has at least one or two quirks, Lisa at Put It On the List, and Veronica at Toddled Dredge because I don't know much about her.

Here are the rules.
(1) Link to the person that tagged you.
(2) Post the rules on your blog.
(3) Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself.
(4) Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs.
(5) Let each random person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website.

Be thankful ~

Karen

I can't believe I'm doing this. . .

Edited: Many thanks to Amy for telling me how to add the button AND get the link right!

I just read over at BooMama's and BigMama's blogs about the upcoming She Speaks Conference. Never having been to one before, I thought that sounded pretty interesting. So I read on.

Now I am wondering if I should have stopped earlier.

It sounds glorious. I've never wanted to be a public speaker, but have felt compelled to write from time to time, and moreso the older I get. I am a grammar nut (just ask my kids), love to read good writing, and would love to have more time to practice it. Here's my problem: I am Mom. Not just a mom, but Mom. Home-schooling Mom, to be exact. I have been Home-schooling Mom for 23 years. So long that it has become my title, my identity, WHO I am, and now I can't imagine that I can be anything else. But at the same time, I am faced with the cold, hard fact that in 3 1/2 very short years I will no longer be Home-schooling Mom. I have been fretting over the decision of what to BE when my last child graduates from high school. This is not just a question of what I will DO; it's what I will BE. Can you hear the mental anguish? Almost makes me want to have another baby, just to postpone the agony.

But not quite.

I'm scared. Scared that I will pursue something I can't actually do. Afraid to try. Can you imagine? I've spent 23 years being the cheerleader of this family and now I'm afraid to try something myself.

So, because I've always told my kids that failure to try is the only failure, I'm going out on a limb and applying for a scholarship (you can too!) to the She Speaks Conference. That's the only way I'll get there with three kids in college. So pat me on the back - I'm trying and I'm scared to death.

Maybe I'll learn how to put the She Speaks button on my blog while I'm there.

Be thankful !

Karen

This is your brain.

For my friend Rie, who wonders why men don't worry and fret like women do, I share this explanation. Please do go watch; you won't be sorry.

Be thankful ~

Karen

Saved from financial ruin

Yes peeps, we almost had financial catastrophe at our house this morning. But let me back up 23 years.

I was raised by very responsible parents. They plan ahead. Never procrastinate. Take care of everything right away. They taught me well. I never let my car get below a quarter tank of gas. Of course, that was when gas was 79 cents a gallon, but still.

Do you know that I actually remember my dad getting gas one time when I was about 10 years old for 23 cents a gallon?? Sorry, that thought just popped in and begged to be told.

Anyway, that's how I was raised and that's how I always took care of business.

Then I got married.

And when you're married, your priorities change. Husbands need attention. And food. Children come along and need to be changed and fed and put down for naps. Cars become fodder for back burners.

We once had an old, brown Ford van that burned and leaked a little oil. Well, it leaked a burned a lot of oil, but we didn't really keep track. Except that I was supposed to. I had to check the oil EVERY TIME I DROVE IT. So one day I decided I was sick of checking the stupid oil and I just didn't. And I drove to my parents' for a visit. Two hours away.

The next day when I checked it, nothing registered on the dipstick. NOTHING. That baby was as dry as the Mojave desert. I started pouring oil in one quart at a time. I got to five and stopped. Then I walked over to my neighbor, Gregg, who I KNOW knows something about cars, and asked, "Hey, um, is it possible for my van to be FIVE QUARTS low on oil and still run?" He thought a minute and said, "Well, it IS a Ford. . . I guess so." And I never forgot to check the oil again.

Ben and I aren't the best about putting gas in the cars either. We like to take chances by seeing how low we can get it without actually running out. Couple that with the slope of our driveway and you get this morning.

We all got in my car to go to church and Ben started it up. It immediately died. So he started it again and it made this funny whining sound, but you could tell the motor wasn't turning. Tried it again - same thing. So he pulled the key out and said cheerily, "Timing belt broke." We piled in the van (old faithful - but not the same old brown one) and pulled out.

Now I don't know about you, but I'm a stewer. I can't just forget about my poor, dead car in the driveway. No. I have to ask questions. "What do you think is wrong?" Timing belt. "How do you know it's that?" It's happened to me before. "Can YOU fix it?" No. "How much will it cost?" And the answer to that last question nearly caused my eyes to become unsocketed - $1600.

Sweet fancy Moses (to borrow one from BooMama)!

When will I ever learn to stop asking and just let Ben do the worrying?

We get home from church and eat lunch. I'm still worrying. I go to the kitchen to make food for our missions conference banquet tonight. Ben goes to the couch to read. I'm still stewing. Ben falls asleep. For TWO HOURS. (He's in his nothing box - remind me to post on THAT one.) Now my fretting is at fever pitch.

FINALLY he wakes up and goes out to survey the damage and make sure his initial assessment is correct. I look out the front window three minutes later and the CAR. IS. GONE. Yes, internets, you read that right. Seems that the first time he started it this morning, it stalled because it was too low on gas. Then he didn't wait long enough before trying to start it again and some thingy in the doo-hicky didn't engage and it just whined that pitiful, sad, I'm-not-even-going-to-try-to-start whine. Ben says it just needed a two hour nap.

I'm praising God for not completely wiping out my tuition account.

Be thankful ~

Karen

Real-life lesson in civics

First, here is Adorable modeling this year's National Pro-life T-shirt Day t-shirt. Lovely and their friend Boo also modeled, but I can't find the pics of them at this very moment. I'll keep trying.

In other news, we spent Tuesday, Adorable's official 18th birthday, at the March for Life in Washington, DC. It was great fun if you like standing with several hundred thousand other people in 20 degree rainy wind, listening to politicians pontificate over the exact same thing said in 34 different ways. But it was for a good cause, so we endured. We learned a few things too, and here they are in random order:

1. Kansas sends more people to the March for Life than any other state.

2. Notre Dame students are louder than all the folks from Kansas.

3. New Jersey has at least three representatives who are pro-life. Just in case you ever thought about moving to New Jersey.

4. Frostbite occurs in one-tenth the time it takes for it to go away.

We were surprised that the vast majority of marchers were Catholic. Not that that's a bad thing, I just never thought about it. I just assumed that most would be, you know, the evangelical Christian types. So during our very lengthy, slow march, I learned the Hail Mary, Our Father, and that not all Catholics know them by heart.

One lady was there with a large group of high schoolers and when we got to the Supreme Court building, she got their attention and began praying, did the hand motion, and then said, "What comes next?" For some reason that really cracked me up.

Anyway, for your perusing pleasure, here are a few pics from the day.

Ab and Boo when we first arrived:

Some of the cool signs we saw:

The three of us during the pontificating:

Walking up Constitution Ave., up Capitol Hill, it's people as far as you can see:

And behind us, still people. Is this what the Israelites felt like when they were leaving Egypt? Only not as cold.

So I'd say this was a bang-up home schooling day. How many kids get to experience real-life civil protest? We're already making plans for next year - battery operated socks, thermos of hot coffee. . .

Be thankful ~

Karen

Her curly pigtails look like insect antennae

My friend Liz has a wonderful picture of Abbie and her son, Jed, when they were two years old. Of course the man is driving - some things never change - but you've gotta go look at these precious kids! Thanks for sharing, Liz!

Off to the March for Life - I'll have more pics tomorrow.

Be thankful ~

Karen

In which there was much birthdaying

So Baby Girl (aka Adorable) is 18. Mike and Lovely came home to join the festivities and all was wonderful. We had our own little family celebration with Abbie's favorite chocolate cake:

And she blew out all 18 candles with one breath! I almost missed the picture, but y'all were in my mind and I just couldn't disappoint you by missing another photo op.
Then, unbeknownst to Abbie, we had planned a party for after the evening service last night. We expected the youth group and a few other adults, and wound up with around 60 people. Our friend Karyn made the cake, which included 18 mice, some coming out of the cheese:
This woman is so creative, she amazes me with the ideas for cakes she comes up with.
Here's Abbie being totally surprised. . .
and crying:

On her real birthday, which is Tuesday, we are going to the March for Life in DC. She has always wanted to do that, and we can finally fit it in the schedule this year. We're taking her friend Boo with us and praying for no rain and something warmer than this morning's 7 degrees.

So the birthdaying goes on and on and by the end of it all, I will need to do a solid eight hours on the elliptical to work off all the chocolate cake.

Be thankful ~

Karen

My baby girl is not a baby.

I love a hot bath. There's just nothing more relaxing to me than a good, long soak. No one can get to me. The phone can't interrupt. No one can possibly want me for anything. I lock the door to make sure.

As an aside, I used to have a Yorkie who followed me around the house. Wherever I went, he went, including the bathroom, so I learned to make sure the door was latched and locked it for good measure.

Anyway, I was enjoying a good mind-numbing soak last night when I heard, was it really? Yes, the front door opened and someone was singing "Happy Birthday" rather loudly, but quite in tune. Adorable is turning 18 on Tuesday, but that's another post for another day. When I have tissues available. So here I am in my bubble-filled 'nother world thinking, "I can't believe the McG's (our neighbors) can sing that well!" Then at some point I realized, IT'S MIKE AND LOVELY!!! They had come home from college for the weekend to wish their little sister a happy birthday. AWWWWWW! Too sweet. And that was worth cutting my sanity maintenance short for.

And speaking of Lovely, she does not have mono, nor does she have the flu. She has a sinus infection. But with her handy-dandy antibiotic, she's feeling much better. And I am much relieved.

So this morning we all went and helped a single mom with a 29-year-old very disabled son move some furniture down the narrow, steep stairs of their house - they are moving to a one-story to make caring for the son easier. Then the girls went off shopping and movie-going, the boys went to do some work for another family in the church, and I went to the kitchen. Put laundry in washer. Chocolate birthday cake. Chocolate icing. Laundry in dryer. Put together Rigatoni with Bechamel and Prosciutto for supper. Iron 9 shirts. Bake three loaves of pumpkin bread for Sunday School. Serve dinner, do cake, do presents, clean up from dinner. Now I'm really looking for my bubbles, but a shower will have to do.

And here I sit, because after all, I have my priorities in order, y'all.

More on the 18th birthday saga as it continues to unfold. . .

Be thankful ~

Karen

Oh, here I go again.

I know I said I wasn't going to get all political on you, but if you are a Republican considering the candidates, please read this. And consider the fact that we are not electing a pastor, but a president. There is an obvious candidate who offers strong, conservative leadership AND a pro-life stand.

OK, I'll try to refrain from campaigning any further. At least here on the blawg.

Be thankful ~

Karen

I am SUCH. A. GEEK.

We sat down to eat dinner tonight and Ben asked me to pray. So I began.

"Lord, thank you for your love and grace and mercy to us. Thank you for safety while we were all out today. Touch Leah and help the antibiotics to work quickly, and help her to feel better soon. And help her and Mike, I mean she and Mike, . . . no, it's HER and Mike (at this point we're all laughing hysterically and I'm having trouble finishing) with thier studies. Thank you for the food. In Jesus' name, AMEN."

Do you supposed God cares if I have the grammar wrong? Probably not. So why am I such a geek about it?

Then, as if my geekiness weren't enough, we got started talking about Ben's lack of flexibility, or what I THINK is his lack of flexibility. He protested vehemently, saying that there just wasn't ROOM for him to be flexible. He's always loved to work out, and has a very wide back, big biceps, and lots of muscle. So there we all sat at the dining room table, seeing who could do what contortions and laughing about it all. Then I realized that it was dark outside and our dining room is in the front of the house with a huge bay window. I wondered aloud what someone walking by the house would think if they looked in and saw us all flailing and trying to wrap our arms around the opposite sides of our heads.

And OH MY GOODNESS I just now realized I DIDN'T GET A PICTURE!!!!!

I AM SO FIRED!

Sometimes I wish I could hit the rewind button. *sigh*

Be thankful ~

Karen

It's because I have a uterus.

At least that's what my sister-in-law says. In true Jeopardy fashion, I'll tell you that the question to the answer is, "How come you can find things when other people can't?"

Ben doesn't even bother looking for missing items anymore. He just tells me what to find, and I do. And I'm telling you, it's because I have a uterus.
That's the only explanation there is.

So this week my uterus will come in handy. Abbie and Elijah went on a winter retreat with the youth group to a nifty camp about an hour from here and, when the word went out to get their luggage to the bus for the trip home, Elijah missed it. He did have the presence of mind to check his cabin before they left and found that his stuff was gone. So he assumed somebody had put it in the bus.

Wrong.

Somebody may have put it in a bus, but it wasn't ours. Let the sleuthing begin.

I have already spoken to the youth pastor from the church who shared our bus and van, e-mailed the camp, and our youth pastor is contacting all the other churches that were there. This suitcase is full of sweaty, muddy clothes and shoes. It will be like Lazarus by the time we get it - John 11:39 - by now he stinketh.

My overriding thought through all of this is that I have a mere 3 1/2 years to get this child ready to be on his own. I wonder if he'll be able to find his clothes?

Be thankful ~

Karen

Who's been hitting the hair dye?

My days of leisure are almost at a very sad end. The kids are coming back and Ben has gone to get them. But what a lovely, lazy day and a half I've had!

Thursday night doesn't count because that's when I dropped them off at church. Friday I spent the morning reading blogs to my heart's content. I read blogs I'd never been to before and followed links from one to another until I couldn't remember where I started. It was SO. MUCH. FUN. No pressure, no schoolwork, no one asking how to spell (fill in the blank) or when could we go to the Y. Just pure, unadulterated freedom with my coffee and my computer. And YOU were part of it!

From the bottom of my heart, thank you for sharing my one-day-off-per-year with me!

Friday night I made a nice dinner for Ben and I - lemon-crusted salmon, twice baked potatoes, wilted spinach with garlic and we watched an old movie - something about a Redheaded Stranger. It had Willie Nelson, Morgan Fairchild, and other popular names which I cannot remember. Good show, but we were 15 minutes from the end when I asked Ben, "So where's the redhead?" He looked at me incredulously and said, "That would be Willie Nelson."

Oh, really?

When did Willie become a redhead?? Isn't he, like, indian or something? I'm still shaking my head.

This morning we slept late and Ben made us biscuits and perfect fried eggs for breakfast, I read the entire paper cover-to-cover, and did the crossword puzzle. And here I am, back for my daily fix.

It's been a lovely weekend spent with y'all (just a little something I picked up since I became a southerner). Hopefully it won't be another year until we can do this again!

Be thankful ~

Karen

Get in shape with me!

New Exercise Program for '08

I'm using this new exercise program to get in shape this year. You might want to take it easy at first, then do it faster as you become more proficient. It may be too strenuous for some.

As with any exercise program, consult your doctor before you begin.

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Ok, that's enough for the first day. Whew!

Thanks to my friend Lizard for sharing this with me.

Be thankful ~

Karen

Lovely. . . isn't.

Lovely called me yesterday and I knew as soon as she said, "Mom?" something was wrong. Mothers have the gift of interpretation, you know. So I said, "Are you ok?" and the story came pouring out amidst the tears.

She had been tired the night before when she went to bed. More tired than is normal, but she shrugged it off and slept like a log. Wednesday morning she had trouble even moving. She described it as more tired than she's ever felt. Having trouble just walking. And she's achey - all over. Everything hurts - her joints, her muscles, her skin, her hair. Her hair? But that's what she says. One minute she's sweating, the next she's shivering. I told her it sounded like the flu, drink liquids, rest, blah, blah, blah. Like she could rest with her 21 credits. The girl is psycho.

I called her this morning after her first class and she was on her way to the Health Center. The doc there told her he didn't think she had the flu - no fever. So what were the sweating and shivering about? He thought she might have mono, but testing for it in the first week or so is useless because she hasn't produced any antibodies yet, and that's what they look for - antibodies to the Epstien-Barr Virus. That's what mono is.

So my poor Lovely, isn't. And since E-man and Adorable are going away with the church youth group tonight, I have tomorrow off, so I might just drive up there to U-town and take that girl some chicken soup. Would you pray for her?

Be thankful ~

Karen

Who's responsible for this??

Holy Moly! Where does the time go? It seems like just yesterday Adorable had a cute little baby-sized T-shirt that said, "I'm Crabby" because as an infant she was, well, crabby. Times a billion. We nicknamed her Crabigail. That girl cried more than I ever thought was possible for one little baby. But she was really cute - pudgy with a head full of dark, Shirley-Temple-curls. Somehow she outgrew the fussies (Ben would argue that term isn't near strong enough), and she's the happiest young lady now! Very easy-going and all that. Not a care in the world. Except the Chocolate, but that was another post.



And in case you're wondering, she did get her Chocolate. In Ice Blue or whatever they call that color. And the ringtone? It's so her. Some guy whistling a lazy tune - really fits her personality.



Anyway, I said all that to say this: yesterday was Adorable's first day of school. EVER. She was nervous and excited, but she just wouldn't let me get a picture of her with her new Hello Kitty lunchbox. Go figure. This was all I could get:

She still has the curls but now they're down to her waist. Imagine. The baby girl going off to college. Hm.

Be thankful ~

Karen

It's gonna be a hot night, in the old town, tonight!

I've hired Adorable as my official photographer. Mostly because she takes pictures and I can't seem to find the time. Her first assignment was to walk up to Chuck's house yesterday and take pictures of the latest to-do in the neighborhood.

One day last week Ben walked in the door from work with his tie askew, shirt rumpled and dirty, and panting for breath. He asked, "Have you seen the neighborhood?" I had been getting dinner ready and hadn't heard anything out of the ordinary, and neither had Pete. He doesn't fail to alert us to every wayward moth or squirrel outside the window.

So I ran and looked, and, lo and behold, fire engines were parked two houses up. Here's the scoop:

Chuck has a 1981 Corvette. Red, T-tops, in mint condition. At least as far as looks go. He works on it now and then, but mostly it sits, covered, in the driveway. Why he picked the 20 degree day to work on it last week, no one knows, but that's what happened.

But first, back up a year or so. He was working on it one day and Ben was there, telling him, "Chuck, you've got a fuel leak. I can smell it." Chuck replied, "Blah, blah, blah. Blah, blah," and promptly forgot about it.

Now fast forward to last week. Chuck tries to start the car which now has a bajillion dead leaves under it. Car backfires. Leaves are soaked with fuel. Leaves ignite. Smoke and fire are billowing out from under Chuck's baby. So instead of calling the fire department, Chuck grabs the dog's water bowl and is filling it at the outside spigot and throwing it under the car. The dog is a dachsund, with appropriately sized water bowl. This is when Ben drives up. He sees the smoke and jumps out. The hose is frozen, so he runs for the kitchen, up a full flight of deck stairs, while shouting, "Chuck! Call the fire department!" He fills up a pitcher and a coffee pot, while Chuck continues with the dog bowl. Neighbor Jeff comes over with what he now realizes is another frozen hose. He runs back home for another one. Ben is still shouting, "Chuck! Call the fire department!" Back up the stairs. Repeat this many times. Jeff is back trying to work ice out of the third hose he finds. They are all sucking great, deep gulps of 20 degree air mixed with smoke. Neighbor #3 comes with a small household fire extinguisher. It is no match for the flaming Vette. Neighbor #4 comes running with a rake to get the leaves out from under the car. Too late. Flames are shooting out from under the hood. Fire department finally shows up and RIPS the hood off the car, dousing it with fire retardant.

We have five men suffering various degrees of smoke inhalation, not to mention they are in no kind of shape for fighting fires. Much heaving and gasping for breath is happening.

Chuck is sad. Very sad. Here's the end result:

Not the best picture (I'll have to speak to my assistant about that), but you get the idea. The back is quite burned, too, and the hood is completely destroyed. Lots of burnt stuff inside the car. And because he didn't drive it much? No comprehensive coverage.

Everybody feel sorry for Chuck.

The moral of the story? There are several:

1. Always rake your leaves.

2. Listen to your friends when they tell you about fuel leaks.

3. Don't leave hoses outside in winter.

4. Get a bigger dog. Or at least a bigger water dish.

Be thankful ~

Karen

If they want men to buy it, they'll call it Buffalo Wings.

I have four cell phones on my family plan. Aren't you glad to know that? Bear with me - there's a reason I'm telling you this. Because there are four of us with phones, my bill is $130 a month. They tell me that's not too bad. But THEY don't pay my bill, so I don't think they should offer THEIR opinion.

Anyway, since Adorable doesn't drive on her own yet, and since she is home schooled, she really hasn't needed a phone. But she's a little creeped out by the thought of being on the community college campus with no car AND no phone, so Ben and I agreed that it would be a good idea to add her to the plan. It's only another $10 a month, and after all, it IS for her safety.

So Ab and I went to the Verizon store a few days ago to ask about changing the plan, contracts, and to look at phones. There are phones there just like mine. Well, not really just like mine. These are the newer versions of mine. The sales person looks at my phone and assumes I'm there for an upgrade. But that would mean learning new phone software, and that is DEFINITELY not on my list of things to do in the near future. I might be just a tad RTC. Maybe.

Anyway, THE phone to have these days is a Chocolate. You know, the little skinny thing where the top plate slides up to uncover the keypad. With a name like Chocolate it has to appeal to females. And it comes in some nifty colors like Blue Mint and Black Cherry and some fluorescent green that I can't find online. The downside is that the Chocolate costs more than I had budgeted for another phone, which is exactly zero.

Let the posturing begin.

Ab has been wracking her brain trying to figure out how to get me to buy her a Chocolate. She does have a birthday coming up and we've been discussing what she wants. So this morning in the car she said, "Hey, Mom, I have an idea. What if I get a Chocolate for my birthday?"

And before I could open my mouth to reply, Mike said, "Yeah! It's the gift that keeps on taking!"

And just so you know, I'm trying very hard to get a good picture of a neighborhood event you'll really want to hear about. But I can't tell you until a get a pic.

Be thankful ~

Karen

Betcha can't wait for THIS picture!

I sent my tall son off to Iowa with instructions to get a picture of himself with someone famous. For my blog. He shakes hands with Mitt and forgets the photo op (what kind of politician will he BE???). He gets interviewed for Good Morning America, and no picture. Then he calls yesterday and says, "Hey, I met somebody famous!" "Oh really?" say I. "And who was that?" He replies, "Ted Danson, the bar owner from Cheers."

Now, I know beggars can't be choosers, but Ted Danson? He's a Hillary fan, isn't he? I've got to teach my boy some things.

In other most fascinating news (c'mon, you know you're waiting with baited breath), the washing machine that I thought was broken, really isn't. It just took me three days to figure that out.

Tall one has an appropriately tall coat which he left home and asked me to wash before he went back to school. The label suggested machine washing it on the delicate cycle, cold water, mild detergent (are you excited yet?), and NO dry cleaning. So I put the coat in, etc., etc., and when I pull it out to put it in the dryer, it is dripping water all over the floor.

I should stop here mid-drivel to tell you I have a Maytag Neptune - the front-loader from hell. It has been a perfect example of what not to do with $1000 - unless you love to grow mildew and replace mother-boards.

It really was no surprise that the machine wasn't spinning correctly. Every time it spins we fear it will put a hole in the wall with all the banging, and it sounds like a P-3 taking off (reference to our Navy Air days). So I pull the washer out, and remove the back cover to check the belt. It's fine. Then I get the brilliant idea to put the coat back in and set it to just spin so I can watch from the back of the machine. No such luck. It doesn't spin. The motor is running, but no turning of the drum is happening. Me? I am so sad because I do copious quantities of laundry, and Tall One is coming home with a week's worth.

I push the mess back in and walk away. For two days. Then last night I sent Elijah to the neighbor's to spin the still-sopping-wet coat so I can dry it. He comes home and I try to put it in the dryer again, and you'll NEVER BELIEVE THIS but it is STILL dripping wet.

Silly me. I think the neighbor's washer isn't spinning well either.

Oh, I do crack myself up.

And I keep thinking that for 13 more hours. At some point, it occurs to me that both washers not spinning is just a wee bit coincidental, so I decide to do some sleuthing. This may get dangerous.

I put a few towels in the washer and set it to run a normal cycle. It fills. It tumbles. It drains. IT SPINS. Like there's no tomorrow. I can hear the P-3's taking off.

Turns out that one coat is too heavy to be spun on the delicate cycle. Who knew? My husband will be thrilled that I just saved him another $1000 - he refused to put any more money into this machine and has been waiting for it to break one more time so he could throw it off the tailgate into the big garbage sucking thing at the transfer station.

When that happens, I will DEFINITELY get a picture.

Be thankful ~

Karen

Just how sick ARE you?

Speaking of sicknesses, I was reading over at BigMama this morning and she is sick. Unto death, apparently. She is working on pneumonia, while her husband, P, cries out from his sickbed. And Caroline rides around on her Disney Princess scooter, but that's another story.

Anyway, that whole thing reminded me of a story my friend, Karen, told me. She had a stomach virus and, miracle of miracles, she lived through it. When her husband, Tom, got it, he was so weak he couldn't park himself in the bathroom on the floor like most of us do. He had to lie down on the bed with his head hanging off the side over a garbage can. And it was so bad he couldn't hold his head up, so Karen sat there holding it up for him. At some point he looked up at her and mumbled, "You've never been this sick."

And though he was speaking in all seriousness, Karen and Ben and I have laughed about that for years.

And if you've ever wondered where great bloggers get their ideas for writing a new post every day, read BigMama's helpful hints. You'll never get writer's block again.

Be thankful ~

Karen

He'll never wash that hand again.

Yup. You guessed it. The Tall One met Mitt Romney. Even shook his hand. They were at a "function" together this morning before they sent the volunteers out to knock doors, and Tall One walked right up to ole Mitt and introduced himself. Then he called to tell me about it and I asked if he got a picture taken with him. "No. Why?" he asked. "For my blog!!!!!! Are you crazy, missing an opportunity like that???" See, I learned my lesson with the macaroni disaster. No matter what happens in life, always, ALWAYS stop to take a picture for the blog. I still can't believe he didn't get one. *sigh*

Be thankful ~

Karen