Excuse me while I have myself a Martha moment.

I don't know what has gotten in to me.

I have a bowl of fresh fruit on the counter.

I made homemade chocolate chip cookies.

It is amazing the things I have time to do around here when I am not posting on the ol' blawg. Or reading and commenting on other blogs. Or looking for new blogs to enjoy. Or deciding what to do about the future of this blog.

Yes, that's right, the future of this blog. I am stressed right now about all things blog related. I am working on a switch to a different platform, and I know even less about computers and code and metas and propogating and servers and everything else, than I had tricked myself into thinking I did.

And on top of all of that, some of the stress is coming from the fact that I cannot believe I have acutally stuck with this blogging thing for six months. I don't stick with anything that long. I am the queen of quitting things because I didn't think things through first. I have at least a dozen journals with one or two pages written in them. Because that's what I do...I start things with the best of intentions and then I don't finish them. Yet, here I am putting out the inner workings of my brain for anyone to read.

The thing is...this blogging thing? I enjoy it. I enjoy looking back through the archives and reading about what was on my mind at the time. I want to continue, to stick with something and be good at something. And the only way to become a better writer is to keep on writing. The only way to be able to keep on enjoying looking back on my archives, is to keep on writing them. The only way to record my thoughts about life and the kids right now is for me to keep on putting pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard as the case may be.

I'm afraid if I quit my blog, I could wind up with the same fate as Britney, locked in mental ward because the thoughts, they could not get out. I'm also not sure I'd look great in a pink wig.

Oh, what would Martha do? Because she makes it all look so easy.

Have you ever had any thoughts of giving up your blog?

Two little piggys went to the orthodontist. One little piggy went home to chew bubble gum and eat popcorn, and one little piggy could not.

The giveaways have my fingers aching. But with a little luck, I'll be the lucky recipient of 7 home organizing books, 13 handmade purses or tote bags, 4 pairs of earrings, an iTunes gift card, countless Amazon and Target gift cards, a handmade dress with a pinafore for my Gracie, a pendant or 6, 37 candles, 9 hand made bead bracelets, 24 Jan Karon books, 2 wristlets, a ton of chocolate, a Backyardigans DVD, an afghan, and a mp3 player shaped like, I think, a rock?

That's cool. I like rocks.

Maybe with my new rock shaped mp3 player and my iTunes gift card, I'll download the theme song from the Clapper.

Clap On!

Clap Off!

The Clapper!

Yeah, you're totally gonna have Clap On! Clap Off! stuck in your head all day. Me too.

You're welcome.

It's Thursday So That Means I'm Rambling. On. And On.

I can't begin to thank you all enough for the get well wishes you've sent me over the past few days. I truly, truly am thankful for your kind thoughts and words. I've slacked a lot this week on my blog reading and commenting, but please know that I really appreciate each and every one of you who takes the time to check in on this blog of mine. This whole Internet thing, it does amaze me.

I wish I was the type of person who can trudge thru an illness like a supermom, but I'm not. I'm actually a big baby when it comes to being sick. When I am not well, I just cannot function. Luckily, K ran the show around here for me and I've caught up on every missed hour of sleep that I've ever lost since 1998. With lots of moaning thrown in for good measure.

I have discovered that the more I sleep, the more I want to sleep. I kept thinking, at some point, my body would just refuse to fall back to sleep. I was expecting to be up all night last night, because I was sure my eyes just wouldn't be able to close and take in any more sleep.

That turned out not to be the case at all. The more sleep I got, the more I wanted. I could not stay awake for more than 30 minutes at a time without my eyelids starting to droop and my head looking for the nearest horizontal surface.

Anyway, I promise no more talk of the sickness that left visions of Axl Rose dancing in my head.

And the dream about the puffer fish? Scary. They are still there every time I close my eyes. Those puffer fish are some mean dudes.

The narcotics? They can really mess with your mind. And leave your limbs feeling all heavy and wonderful. But the messing with the mind part? It's scary what's going on up there.


And did I really say "That's how I roll?" Forgive me Internets. It's all a blur.


I've been wanting to mention a few Thank You's, long over due, but better late than never.

I won a contest last month from The Simple Wife, and I've been wanting to show you all what I won. It is way cuter than this photo, but you get the idea.

It is a handmade, small zippy purse. It is fully lined and I love it! I use it every day and each time I zip and unzip it, it makes me want to run out and buy a sewing machine so I could make fantastic things too. Thank you, Joanne!

I also won a contest a while ago over at Bloggy Giveaways. I know! I am totally on a lucky streak right now! I won the giveaway sponsored by Loop De Lou. I chose these cute little gifts tags and instead of having a name put on them like the one in the picture, I had them customized with To: and From: They turned out awesome! They are so easy for my kids to fill out and slap on a gift whenever they are going to a birthday party. In the past, I always either bought a card, or had my kids make one, and this has turned out to be so much easier! Because you know why? The kids, they don't care about the card that was handmade by my daughter with 17 perfect rainbows on it. They just want to open the gift.

I love them. Thanks Loop De Lou!

I also wanted to share with y'all our Christmas Card from 2007. It turned out better than I ever could have imagined and I owe a huge Thank You to Jamie at Wee Little Designs.

Seriously. Jamie rocks. She put up with my total JPEG emailing ineptitude and my numerous requests to see how it looked in black and white.

Then in Color!

Nope, let's try B&W again!

Okay, I'm going with the color, 'cause of the water! See the pretty blue of the water!

I'm a bit of a nut case about the whole Christmas greeting thing, and I'm pretty sure I was driving Jamie crazy.

I actually found Jamie from a giveaway she did for Bloggy Giveaways. I would have never heard of her and her company otherwise, but I'm sure glad I had the chance to check them out!

And last but not least, are any of you out there on the Good Mail bandwagon?

Honestly, I had never heard of it before, but I was reading one of my favorite blogs Marathon Bird, (who by the way just ran the Houston Marathon, You GO Girl!) and she mentioned this whole Good Mail concept from a blog that she read and so basically, it's sending some mail to someone that is not a bill, or an ad, or a request to save the children in Zimbabwe and if you don't send money right away you are A HORRIBLE PERSON.

(Not that saving the children of Zimbabwe is not a very worthy cause.)

(It most definitely is.)

(It was just an example, people.)

(Rock on, Sally Struthers.)

Holly sent me a piece of good mail just before Christmas, and I tell ya, it was a hand stamped thing of beauty that made me smile! So now, I am a good mail fan too! And I have Holly to thank for introducing me to this great idea.

I'm working on a card to send back to Holly, but of course, I can't show you, because she hasn't seen it yet.

Keep in mind that I don't rubberstamp.

Or know how to do anything fancy with vellum.

Or have a lot of time to invest in the fine art of card making.

But it's the thought that counts, right?

So as I'm putting the final touches on my card for Holly I thought;

This was Fun!

I could do this again!

I should spread the joy!

So if you would like some good mail from me, hand made by me, and sent from me to you, send me an email (my address is on my sidebar) with your address. And I'll send you a piece of good mail! Hopefully before my tulips bloom.

And think about challenging yourself to put a little bit of good mail out there. It's fun to get mail. And it's fun to send it!

And when you find yourself in a joyful and happy mood after recieving good mail from me, go ahead and think about the poor children and the plight of Zimbabwe.

Or you might have a really scary dream involving Axl Rose and a puffer fish.

Or Sally Struthers.

Testing. I Repeat, This is only a Test

Just testing the 3 column waters here in the land of 90 West.

And is it just me or it the font size unbelievably huge?

I need to fix that.

I don't think I have much of a senior citizen readership. If I do, I apologize, you'll just need to put your reading glasses on.

If I can't get it fixed, I'll have to just put a little desclaimer on the ol' blawg that says

"NOW BROUGHT TO YOU IN UNBELIEVABLY LARGE PRINT"

And now I'll stop typing in all caps. Because the only thing worse than me screaming at you, is me screaming at you in a large font.

I'm considerate like that.

What is it about Thursdays that have me full of so much randomness?

Hey all. It seems as though my new pup took over the posting for a couple of days this week. I tell ya, that dog, she can get away with just about anything.

Yes it's true, we bought a new puppy because it seems as though all my talk of wanting another baby, or two, put the fear of God himself into my husband, so he is hoping this new little yellow lab will distract me. And, it is working. She's a keeper.

Just wanted to pop in to say Hi to you all. I'm having a busy week here in the land of 90 West. Various projects have been started around the house, but thanks to the newest arrival, they are not getting finished in a very timely fashion.

I also have been practicing a little bit of my HTML skills. Actually, not skills. No where close to skills. More like I've been limping along in the world of HTML like a 90 year old woman with a walker who is in desperate need of a double hip replacement.

Yes, it has been going that slow.

A while ago, I applied for a BlogHer ad, and Oh! The Luck! It finally came through. So in much anticipation of at least $26 rolling in this year, I decided I should optimize my sidebar/ outer/inner/wrapper/background/widget/header/footer/ WHATEVER/space. Because I'm real technical like that. And have lots of time to waste teaching myself HTML. Or XML as I think it might now be called in this new age of web design. Really, I have no idea. But I think frustrating might be just the right word for it.

I had naive thoughts that a three column blogger template would look so much better with a BlogHer ad. And it probably will. If I can ever get it done. I'm tinkering around with it every day. But in small doses. And slowly, it's getting there. As slowly as a ninety-year old with a walker and bad hips.

You don't really care though, do you? And I don't blame you, 'cause right now, I'm not caring all that much either.

Remember a while back I complained about my kids and the Webkinz and how I couldn't get near the computer during their winter break? I was afraid Nicole Richie would spit out her tattooed baby and I'd miss the live birth on Peopledotcom? My friend, Leslie, swears she is still pregnant. And relief washes over me.

However, if it weren't for World News Tonight, I would've totally missed the fact that Miss Jamie Lynn Spears is with child. Imagine, having to rely on a reputable news outlet for Ok! caliber news! I just had that gut feeling I was missing something good. And then, the soon to be Aunt Britney goes and gets herself put in a 72 hour MENTAL LOCK DOWN and I missed the live feed of it all going down because of Webkinzpalooza on every computer I own.

I may just have to sign up for Peopledotcom alerts sent directly to my cell phone. Because I NEED TO KNOW THESE THINGS PEOPLE!

Dang Webkinz.

They are just like the Beanie Babies. In a year or two I will be THROWING THEM AWAY.

I hope.

But I bet Peopledotcom will still be around. Because I know staying power when I see it.

And, I was totally wrong about the whole "here today, gone tomorrow" internet thing.

Continuing on with the randomness.

I should thank you all for the wonderful words of encouragement and support you sent my way after my post last Friday about wishing for simplicity. It truly is encouraging to know that I am not alone in my struggles. It was amazing to me that we all seem to share a common bond of needing to slow down and simplify the craziness that is life these days.

Have I mentioned I heart bloggers? Y'all are a great community of support. And, you people make me laugh. I love to laugh.

I plan to be laughing alot this Friday night. I'm getting together with the Gang, and it promises to be a night filled with chips, salsa and margaritas.

Life is pretty good right now in my neck of the woods, and I hope it is in yours as well.

Speaking of good, my friend Kelly finally had her beautiful little Sparkles yesterday. And Jen? She's lost 15 pounds! I know! 15! Oh my! Heidi lived out my dream of going back to bed this week, and my mom-I-wanna-be-when-I-grow-up-idol, the gorgeous Pedaling, started a new diet blog. I know! Like she needs it! Oh, and Beth??? The girl is having Twins! I know! Twins! How cool is that? I want twins.

Oops. I better go pet my puppy.

Could You All Join Me In Spreading Some Bloggy Love?

There's a new blogger in town, and it is my real life friend, Col. She is one of the most honest, funniest people I know and I really would like for her to see what a warm and welcoming community the blog world can be.

Like any new blogger, there is a fear of the unknown, of putting down in print what you are really feeling and the worry that people may read and worse, judge you for what you write.

And since you all come here and read my ramblings, and support me in ways I'd never imagined, I know for a fact that there is no judgement in the blogworld.

So won't you please, please, go HERE and welcome my friend to blogging? Let her know that she is welcomed and give her a comment to show her what a warm, friendly and safe place the blogworld can be?

Thanks, guys! I will totally owe you one.


And on a totally unrelated side note, my kids, although I love 'em, are driving me crazy! Let me emphasize that. C-R-A-Z-Y with a capital CRAZY. Seriously, this is like the winter break THAT NEVER ENDS! I keep thinking I'm going to wake up and it will be time for them to go back to school. And yet, five more more days of togetherness, await me.

So, I think it goes without saying that I have really missed posting daily and 'talking' with you all, but I CANNOT GET NEAR THE COMPUTER. Either one of them. It seems as though Webkinz and Miley World and DisneyChanneldotcom trump my existence in the blog world. And seriously, I'm a little twitchy, because I don't know what is going on at Peopledotcom and oh my goodness WHAT IF NICOLE RICHIE HAS HER BABY AND I CAN'T GET ONLINE TO READ ABOUT IT?

Now I ask you, would that be any way to start the new year?

Bear with me, I'm HTML challenged

So with this new blog design has come a few problems. The biggest one being that when the blog was viewed on Firefox, it looked horrible. It may have looked horrible on other browsers too, I just only was able to view it on Internet Explorer and Firefox. I really like how it looked on IE, but on firefox it was missing my whole middle column. The posts were in brown on a brown background. And the links? They were bright, screamy, neon blue.

This put me in a panic.

I felt my eyelid begin to twitch and my neck got all scratchy. I even sent off a desperate email to my friend Jul, who knows that in real life I am not a fan of bright, screamy, neon blue.

But the links on firefox? They are still blue. Jennisa was able to fix the brown on brown look for me, but I have no idea about the links. Please know if you are reading on firefox, the blue links should not be blue.

I ask you to not judge me by my neon linkage.

I would love to get my middle column back too, and use the chocolate brown for the border, but that seems to be beyond the scope of my html knowledge.

I would work on it a little more extensively tonight, but with the TV writers on strike and all, I have found myself watching National Lampoon's European Vacation. And I am laughing. And fondly remembering my purple jelly shoes. And that I used to say "That's so rank."

So I ask again, TV writers please end this strike. Now.

Before I am forced to rekindle my former viewing relationship with the American Gladiators.

An Impassioned Plea

Tomorrow is Saturday, December 8th.

Or

The Day Miley Cyrus will be in concert at the All State Arena and Fiona and Choppy will not be there because their mother sucks.

And I do. I really, really do.

I feel like I am depriving my children of the chance to see the Beatles. Or Elvis. Or my personal preference, Tim McGraw. Whom they have totally already seen. Because when someone I LOVE comes to town, I make sure that I have tickets.

But for Miley/Hannah...I tried. I really, really tried. I hopped online, only to be stuck indefinitely in the online waiting room that is Ticketmasterdotcom. I even tried to get the tickets the old fashioned way. I programmed the TM number into the phone and hit redial 14,946 times.

I called a local radio station to try and win the tickets. And when it was 1991 and I needed to get through to a station to request a certain song I needed to record off of the radio for a mix tape I was making, I never had a problem getting thru.

But now? Not so much.

Apparently, every other sucky mother out there had also honed her radio station speed dialing skills in the early nineties.

So my plea is this. If you had a spare ticket or three to the EVENT OF THE YEAR, would you consider me?

If your neighbors brother-in-law knows the guy who plays poker every Saturday night with another guy who supplies the nachos to the arena and could possible get us in during a covert nacho delivery mission, I'd be forever in your debt.

Or perhaps your sister has a great hairdresser who is divorced from a loser whose mother has a third cousin whose son's girlfriend just happens to be an usher at the venue in question and could possibly get us some spare tickets, I would really owe you big time.

Or even if you went to college with a cute tri-Delt who moved to LA and married a guy who ended up being, say, Miley Cyrus' manager, or publicist, or bus driver, for pete sakes, maybe now would be a good time to call her up and remember the good ol' days?

And maybe during your trip down memory lane with the tri-Delt you could casually mention this blogger that you know who could desperately use 3 tickets to see Miss Hannah/Miley in concert.

And then I wouldn't be the sucky mom with the slow trigger on the redial button, I'd be the really cool mom with the best bloggy readers in the whole wide world.

And to pay you back for this once in a lifetime chance to see Hannah Montana I'd even make a mix tape for you. So really, it's a win/win situation.

Okay, It's Part Two and we're still not the family from a Norman Rockwell painting.

So, we are in the middle of a field of Christmas trees. When I left off this story on Tuesday, I had just discovered that my eight year old had no socks, my husband had no gloves and Fiona's shoe was taking on water. The Clydesdales and their wagon have left, we see Iowa in the distance and Gracie's chin, it is still stinging.

Probably due to the fact that by now little ice pellets were bouncing off of us like freshly popped popcorn at the movie theatre.

I am in the middle of a rousing rendition of "Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!"

Are you still with me?

Good. Let's continue with the tale of how the Chritmas karma came back to bite us.

There we stood for a few minutes in disbelief at the great vastness in front of us that was to be our selection of Christmas trees. Literally, our mouths hung open. Except for my son, whose mouth was open due to the fact that he was screaming over the pain of tripping continuously over tree stumps.

K and I looked at each other and gave a nod towards Iowa, and we began to walk. I had quit leading the sing along by this time, because nobody was joining in. They are a rude bunch when they are out in the elements, my people.

We zigged, we zagged, we made our way through the rows of trees. As we walked, we would stop and debate over one tree vs. another, but no tree seemed to be The One.

Because apparently, no matter what weather conditions we may be stranded in, we are a discerning bunch.

Fiona was only interested in the big trees. And I must compliment her, despite the hole in her gym shoes and the wet feet, she was a trooper. She was running ahead like a white tail deer during hunting season, scoping out possibilities for us to look at. The only problem with Fiona's tree selection is that they all were rather large. And wide. Finally K had to tell her if it was a tree that wouldn't fit in our backyard, it probably would not fit in our house. But still, this girl turned out to be someone I'd be proud to hike to Iowa with during a winter storm warning any day of the week.

That is, if I were stupid enough to ever find myself in this situation again. Which I won't. But if I did, I'd so want her to be my wing man. The Goose to my Maverick.

Anyhoo, have I mentioned about the two large, and now rather wet, blankets I was carrying?

Because I was.

Even though K did not have the foresight to bring gloves, I had the gumption about me to not only remember the saw, but two warm lap blankets for us to snuggle under on our horse drawn ride out to the Christmas tree field.

Remember, I'm all about the Fun! and the Christmas spirit! and the Memories!

I really was recreating a Norman Rockwell painting. Or a plate, at the very least.

The only problem with the blankets, is that they got so SOAKING WET on the ride out to the field, now that I was forced to actually carry them through the field, on foot, they were rather heavy.

So I did what anyone would do. I set them down. Right next to a tree where I knew I would remember them. My load was lighter, and we continued to walk.

Oh, and in case you were needing a weather update at this point, yes the little ice pellets are still raining down on us. Or should I say beating? Because really they were beating down on us.

Therefore, I think it would go without saying that Gracies' chin, it was still stinging.

You would think we would somehow, someway, manage to dig deep and JUST PICK A FRICKIN' TREE ALREADY.

But the elusive ONE, was not to be found.

I suggested a tree I may have seen on the wagon ride out, that I thought would be perfect. So we turned around and began to walk back toward the civilization from which we had come.

Because I'm sure out of roughly 8,238 trees, I would have no problem remembering which one it was that I had seen while whizzing by on a brisk, two horse open sleigh ride.

The only problem with the return trip to civilization was a slight problem with the heavy lap blankets. The blankets! Where were the blankets!

Now, where had I laid those pesky things down?

Who knew we had covered so much ground in between all that carolling, and tripping over tree trunks and least we forget our stinging chins.

Apparently, we had done alright for ourselves in that department. Because the blankets were no where to be found.

So I went one way, while Fiona went the other way and the rest of our people...well they just stood there.

And then I heard a call, and I liken it to how Tatoo must've felt every time he spotted da plane! da plane! For it was music to my ears. da blankets! da blankets!

There they were, covered with their own fresh little dusting of Christmas, right were I had left them.

K had the saw, I had the blankets, Fiona was still doing her white-tailed deer impersonation, and the other three...well they were wet. And tripping. And Gracie? That chin of hers was still a stinging'. Because those ice pellets knew no limit. They were going to beat us down until every last ounce of Christmas joy that was left in our bodies was gone.

And amid all this, still we could not find the right tree. They were either too big, too small or had *huge gasp* too many bald spots.

Because although we appreciate the beauty of nature's bounty in the form of a Frasier fir, we are not fans of the bald spot.

So we walked, and we walked, we tripped, and we walked some more.

And it was decision time. We were cold, we were wet and some of us were a bit cranky, while others were fresh out of Christmas carols to sing.

K has his hands tucked so far up in his sleeves he looked like he had two stumps where his arms should have been hanging. And his ears? They were mighty red. I think it is safe to say that baseball is a summer sport because the baseball hat? It does not provide the warmth that one might expect they would need outside of the months of May, June, July, and August.

So we were faced with a dilemma. Do we keep tree hunting? Searching for the still elusive one? Because the closer we walked to civilization, the slimmer the pickings got.

I'm not sure how fresh trees, still firmly rooted in their growing spot can turn half brown around the trunk, but the needles on half of these trees were indeed, brown and falling off.

And I know we were desperate, but not desperate enough to buy a half dead tree.

And then K said it. The words that no one wanted to hear, but that had to be said.
"Do you just want to go?"

WITH NO TREE? What about the FUN! and the MEMORIES!

But, the ice pellets, they had beat us down. So we decided to get on that Clydesdale pulled wagon and head for home. Or at least, the warm car.

And so we made our way to the spot where the Clydesdales should be returning. We shivered, we waited,we laughed at the craziness of the day, and we even were kind of aggravated at the rather half dead tree selection. And even after all this, we were still waitin' for those darn horses.

We were getting desperate, because aside from a three year old with a stinging chin, the only thing worse is a three year old WHO WANTS UPPIES. And I with my wet blankets, and K with his saw, were not exactly in the position to carry her while dodging 1,463 tree stumps covered with snow.

With no Clydesdales in sight, we had no choice. We must begin to walk back to the tree farm. All the way back.

But surely, we thought, we'd see that wagon coming for us while we were walking back. It would stop and pick us up. Of course it would.

Or maybe, a more likely thought should have been, we would never see those horses again and we would walk all the way back, at least a mile, to our car.

Yes, that seems to be more like the plan we went with.

And when we made it back to the car, faces red, feet wet, and chins stinging, K looked at me and said "I guess maybe we should've just gotten our tree at the nursery."

Really? The nursery where we pledged to take all of our nursery needs until the end of time?

Maybe we should have. Maybe if we had just gone to that nursery in the first place, Karma would not have had to unleash the fury of Mother Nature in the form of a windy ice storm, upon us.

Point taken, karma.

Okay, so we aren't exactly the family off of a Norman Rockwell painting. Because I'm sure they wear gloves. And boots.

I must preface this story with a little background information. Every year since we have lived in this house, we have bought our real Christmas tree from a nursery near our house. Every year, for 4 years.

We go the weekend after Thanksgiving, pick out a fresh Frasier Fir, and the nice boy at the nursery loads it up on top of our car for us.

We even bought our fake, prelit tree from this nursery. And this year our prelit tree, would not light. After about 3 days of turning bulbs, replacing bulbs, and a lot of swearing, K called the nursery in desperation.

"Bring it on in!" they said. "We'll fix it for you...no problem!"

So we loaded it up and drove it back to the nursery. And the next day they called to say they couldn't fix it.

SO THEY WOULD GIVE US A NEW TREE, FOR FREE!

Never have we experienced such customer service. We jumped for joy. We vowed to be customers for life. Any and all future nursery needs would be brought to this mecca of cutomer service.

So this year, when it was time to make the purchase of our real tree for our family room, do you think we would head back to this nursery, like we had done every year before, and where we vowed to shop for all of our nursery needs for the rest of our lives?

No, we did not. Of course not.

And you know that saying about karma coming back to bite you?

It sure did. Or maybe it was the frostbite. But either way, we learned our lesson.

We are not Tree Chopping Down people. We are Go To the Tree Lot and Let Them Tie it on Your Car people.

And this is the story of how we found that out.

It all started a couple of weeks ago. K said to me "The kids are getting older, why don't we try and go cut down our own tree this year?"

And I said, "Sounds fun!"

I immediately got some recommendations on where we 'had' to go, if we were going to go and cut our own tree.

And still, despite a tiny nagging voice in my mind that was screaming "DON'T DO IT" I thought, this could be fun. Cause I am all about fun childhood memories for the kiddos.

And, when K actually offers to leave the house on Saturday and tear himself away from college football, I will go anywhere he wants to.

So, a friend suggested a place about 35 minutes away from home. A place whose website had me firing up my Cocomotion and getting ready to blog my little heart out about all of our new, warm and fuzzy, Christmastime memories.

The website said:
"We're about those long lost traditions from your childhood, when the crisp, cold air held EXCITEMENT while you hunted for the perfect tree with your family by your side. It was knowing that beyond a doubt you had the freshest tree possible while the SMELL of pine & fir saturated every breath you took. It was the JOY of adventure while huge horses pulled an old fashioned wagon into the fields. It isn't a long ago memory....it's still here at XXXX's Tree Farm."

I'm such a sucker for good copy. And breaths that are saturated with the smell of pine.

Now would be a good time to insert in this story about the Winter Storm Warning that much of my area was under for Saturday. I'm sure some people would've take this in to consideration when planning to ride on a wagon out to the middle of a field and be dropped off. But we are not some people.

I believe K even said that "a little snow" would make it perfect weather to go and get a Christmas tree.

He did not however, mention the sleet, freezing rain and STINGING WINDS in this perfect tree chopping weather scenario.

We arrive at the farm, and the snow is really coming down. We visit Mrs. Clause, in a little cute cottage, she gives us candy canes and even writes down the kids names on the 'Good' list. After our little chat about good behavior and good manners with Mrs. Clause we went outside because Gracie had to have a ride on the ponies. And by this time it, the snow, was really coming down. But we persevered. And loaded that girl up on the pony and smiled and waved and took her picture, all while standing there looking like we were Having Fun! And Making Memories!

This is the only photo of our whole day. Sadly our memories of this day of good old fashioned fun are not forever preserved in mega pixels. Because the darn camera got so wet while I was taking pictures by the ponies, it literally shorted out.

After the pony ride is finished, we go and get in line for the wagon, drawn by two Clydesdales, to take us out into the field so we can find that perfect tree. It's snowing, we're wet, and it is just a bit breezy on the wagon ride. But still, we persevere.

The wagon pulls up to the middle of a large, hilly, rocky field and drops us off. And it leaves. Oh, yes it did. Bye-bye Clydesdales and wagon. Don't forget where you dropped us off.

And now, I can tell K is rethinking this whole chop your own tree down thing.

Because upon looking at him carrying the saw, I realize he does not have any gloves on.

I guess when I called out 17 times that morning "DOES EVERYBODY HAVE THEIR HATS AND MITTENS?", he didn't realize that I was talking to him.

Or else I just didn't make it clear enough that everybody should, in fact, bring their hats and mittens.

At least he had his baseball cap on. That sure kept his ears covered and dry.

So we start walking, because of course, all of the trees that used to be near the wagon drop off spot, are gone. I asked someone who had a tree where they found it and they dropped their shoulders, hung their head, and pointed to a hill in the distance that looked to be in Iowa, and said 'right over there.'

Now, have I mentioned it is cold? And wet. And raining/icing/sleeting at this point. And did I mention about the wind? Because, oh the wind. I believe Gracie may have screamed "MY CHIN IS STINGING" about once, or even 14, times. It was like someone should've issued a winter storm warning or something.

And you know the most dangerous thing about walking through a Christmas tree field? It's not the saw being wielded by a very cold and crabby, under dressed dad with no gloves. It's not even the threat of frostbite. It's the stumps on the ground from the trees that have already been cut. And did you know that when they are covered with a dusting of snow, they are nearly invisible to see? My son may have found this out the hard way. Fall after fall. Which of course caused him to cry. Like he wasn't wet enough. The extra moisture on his cheeks was really necessary in the cold, stinging wind.

Now I know that nothing screams holiday memories like a crying, whining five year old who wants to be carried through a tree field.

I also found out the hard way that my Fiona needs new shoes. Because her foot started to get a little wet. From the big gaping hole in the bottom of her gym shoes.

I could not make this up if I tried.

And then there was Choppy, whose feet were cold. Do you really think I need to remind an 8 year old to wear socks in December? When we are going to a Christmas tree farm? And it is snowing? And she is the most responsible child I have? Apparently, I do. But, at least she had her hat and gloves on.

And, I may have snapped at my three year old who was still screaming about her STINGING CHIN. And even though I'm sure the people at the Iowa border could hear her, I probably did not handle her freezing-rain-bouncing-off-her-chin-problem, very well. I may have told this three year old to "Suck! It! Up!"

I'm not proud.

Or mother of the year.

I was able to regroup enough to start singing "Let it snow, Let it snow, Let it snow!" at the top of my lungs in an effort to be Cheery! And Fun! And make the best of it! Because we were making memories people!

My people on the other hand, were not that into it. They were acting like they were out in the middle of nowhere during a winter storm. With no socks. Or gloves.

But for now, that is about all the horror my brain will let me recall of this tree chopping expedition. Tomorrow, I'll let you know just how long it took for those Clydesdales to come back and get us.

That is, if they ever did come back.

We may have been dashing thru the snow in a two horse open sleigh, but we definitely were not laughing all the way

We are in the middle of an ice storm here. And so of course we picked today to trek out to a Christmas tree farm in the middle of nowhere. And get dropped off in the middle of a field by a two horse open sleigh.

It was a family memory worthy of its very own Christmas carol.
I kid you not.

And after being gone all day on this merry holiday adventure filled with joy and quality family time where absolutely no one cried, whined or fell down in the snow, would you even believe me if I told you that we did not even come back with a Christmas tree?

Well please do.

Believe me, that is.

Because I kid you not.

How does a family drive to a Christmas tree farm in the middle of nowhere, ride out to the field full of Christmas trees just ripe for the picking and come home with no Christmas tree?

The fact that the dad of this family realized he had no gloves when they got out to the middle of this field may or may not have had something to do with it.

But I'll let you know on Monday. Because right now, the memories, they are still too fresh. And painful.

So I've been home all evening, and I had plans to be decorating the tree. Since those plans kinda fell thru, I have spent the night aimlessly surfing the web.

And I am so sorry to here that Lindsay Lohan and her latest boyfriend have broken up.

And if Jessica Simpson says she has not had any injections done to her lips, then I believe her.

I did however stumble upon this and I thought I'd perhaps like to play along too.


1.) State the name of your blog, your real name or your online name, and link to your "about me" page. My name is Lisa, and this is my blog Take 90 West. My "about me" page is a little bit lacking, but there is no shortage of mundane and useless information about me within the archives of this blog.

2.) Say you want to be profiled on BlogHer as a family blogger and link back to this Me and Mine 100 original post. I do and I did.

3.) Tell how long you've been blogging. I've been blogging since August 2007.

4.) Pass this meme on to three other bloggers that you think should be profiled/interviewed, and ask them to do the meme. I don't think I can pick just three, because all of the people I know that read my blog are really cool. So if you think you'd like to be profiled on BlogHer then do this meme.

Do you think anybody has even bothered to tell the reindeer that they are out of a job?

I ventured out to Walmart yesterday. It was delightful.

And when I say delightful, I mean that in the most sarcastic sense of the word. Just in case you took it to mean that my little shopping excursion was indeed, delightful. It was not. Now normally, Walmart doesn't bother me all that much. I get in, I get out. It's not my first choice, but its cheap. And I am a fan of cheap. Because my husband just paid two hundred dollars over retail for a Wii.

It was very crowded at my local Wally World. I don't know if it was senior discount day or half-price Thursday, or what. I just know that elderly discount shoppers were well represented today at the old Walmart. Delightful.

I have nothing against the elderly trying to pinch a penny. If I was able to get a senior discount, I would most certainly go for it. 15 percent is nothing to snicker at. Especially if you are purchasing 64 bags of white socks to give as gifts to every member of your family. I personally do not wear white athletic socks, but five members of my family do, and they tell me they are delightful.

Despite the large crowds doing their Holiday shopping in the sock aisles at my Walmart today I actually found a great buy.

This cute, yet totally unpractical, piece of outerwear was rolled back to just 9.98. How can I not buy something that is not even ten dollars? I can not. I mean 9.98? HOLLA!

So I winked back at that little yellow rollback smiley on the sign and grabbed one for myself.

And I even remembered to pick up the Tide that I was there for in the first place.

I noticed there seemed to be a bit of a back up in the check out vicinity, which I believe was probably due to the fact that older Walmart shoppers seem to STILL WRITE CHECKS. Very slowly. And they insist on filling out those pesky checkbook registers right there in line. Whatever.

So, I thought I 'd be all sneaky and smart and head on down and pay in the garden center. Which is now kind of looking less like a garden center and more like the North Pole.

But there was a line there too. Which gave me plenty of time to take in all the eye candy that is Christmas in the garden center at Walmart.

And it was cute, festive even. There was music playing, the blow up snow globes had their fake snow a blowin' and the pointsettas were in full bloom. I may have even heard myself humming along to a Christmas carol.

And then I saw this. And I stopped humming. Because my mouth was hanging open at all the tackiness that was before me.

It seems that some holiday inflatable designer person couldn't just leave well enough alone and let the reindeer pull the sleigh. Like good ol' Rudolph has been doing since the BEGINNING OF TIME.

Somebody must've thought that these two guys were not getting their fair share of the Christmas time glory. Seeing as how it is winter and all. And they are tropical birds. And they are pink.

So they went ahead and came up with this.
Look! The pink flamingos! They are blow ups too! The pink flamingos are pulling the sleigh!

Delightful!

But you know what I found that was even more delightful?

I found that if you collect and display something like this

you can actually buy this to put right in between your white church and your little country store.

Because every small village, with snow dusted trees, twirling ice skaters, one room schools and flickering lights in the windows should have its very own Wal*Mart Supercenter.

Complete with its very own delightful little greeter in front.

Oh, the randomness of a Thursday

The Wii has arrived. I repeat...the Wii has arrived.

Yes indeed, the Wii has made its three day priority mail way to our house, and we now hold it in our hot little hands.

And to add insult to injury, the conscientious eBay seller was kind enough to include the original receipt with it. A receipt that shows he paid about two hundred dollars less for it than we paid him.

Nice.

In other news, I went out Christmas shopping today. And I came home empty handed. Well, that's not entirely true, I came home with things in my hands for me.

I have been eyeing these at Kohl's for some time now.

They are sheets for my bed. And yes, they are a brown zebra print.

But they are sassy, people.

I am not a huge animal print fan. I like an accent here and there. Just to keep up with the trends, 'cause you know I'm nothing if not trendy. And sassy.

I like these towels from the Pottery Barn. But really, what don't I like from the Pottery Barn?

These are some cute towels. Of course, I do not own these towels. Because anything that is described as plush or jacquard woven or as having Turkish cotton in a 600 gram weight, whatever that means, I do not own.

Because my towels have been used by the kids to clean off the slide when it rains. Or by my husband to dry his wave runner. Or lain on the bed so the vomit from a sick kid doesn't get on the sheets. Because good Lord, I have enough laundry to do.

And also, my people seem to be too good to use a mere rag for any of their jacquard woven, combed cotton needs. So that is why I do not own these pretty towels. But I would. I so would buy them if I knew they would not end up drying a freshly washed Yamaha.

So remember, the important lesson here is less is more when it comes to decorating with animal prints.

Think a throw pillow, a towel, something small and you know, accenty.

Not this

Please not that.

Because remember, what goes in style, must go out of style.

Remember the palm tree craze from a few years ago?

It's over.

Moving on, I'm thinking of switching the blog to Wordpress. I'm having blogger issues. With uploading photos. And spacing. You know I need to hit return every 2 or 3 sentences. Apparently, blogger hates this. And is making it kind of a pain for me to space my own blog as I see fit.

The problem is, I have been testing out the Wordpress blogs. And it's a little more complicated than blogger. And even though I have nothing else to do but sit around and test posts on Wordpress, I'm not sure I can get it figured out.

On Monday, December 17, I am participating in Boomama's Christmas Tour of Homes. See the button on my sidebar if you want more info. But basically, after I'm done decorating the house for the holidays, I'll take some photos, hook up with Boo's Mr. Linky, and presto! You all get to come on in for a little tour. I'll even show you my animal print accents. And I'll try not to capture the naked people that live behind me in any of the pictures.

And since I'm inviting you all in, how about inviting me over as well? I know Jul, my friend and fellow Boomama follower is participating, but how about some of you people out there that I know have fantastic houses? I'd love the chance to ooh and ahh over your decorations.

Well, that about covers all of the random thoughts I've got going on for today. Oh, one more thing. In addition to figuring out how to use my sitemeter thingy, which provides some interesting information, I might say, I have now figured out the whole Technorati thing. Because like I mentioned, I really don't have a lot going on which leaves lots of free time to spend on my laptop all day.

Anyway, now I realize that there are people out there linking to my blog that have never even commented. Or said hello. And now I know who you are. But keep lurking, I don't mind. Or say Hi. I don't bite.

I'm just a little sassy.

A story about what happens when Shii is Right and Hii is Wrong

Once upon a time, one warm August evening, a Mom and a Dad and their kids were shopping at a local Large All-Things Electronic Store Where the Sign is A Yellow Tag.

As this mom and dad walked into this store, they walked right past a large sign taped to the door that said "WE HAVE Wii'S IN STOCK! RIGHT NOW!"

The mom said to the dad, "You should come back here and pick one up so that we get it out of the way before the Holidays get closer. We'll never get one if we wait too long."

The dad shrugged the mom off, as usual.

The mom and dad went on with their kids and did their shopping, wasting money on CD's and DS games.
Because there were still 4 weeks left of summer vacation, and the kids were driving the mom crazy.

And that dad never did return to the store to buy that Wii. That was IN STOCK! RIGHT NOW!

The kids went back to school, the summer ended, and Halloween came and went. As the Autumn air grew cooler and the leaves began to fall, The Mom reminded The Dad that "We should think about picking up that Wii soon, because once Thanksgiving comes, we'll never get it."
And the dad shrugged the mom off, as usual.

In November, upon seeing a commercial on TV for the Local Large All-Things Electronic Store Where the Sign is A Yellow Tag, the mom again mentioned to the dad that perhaps they should not wait until after Thanksgiving to purchase this Wii because it would really stink if all the stores are sold out.

"Won't that be stressful to have to chase all over for this Wii that we've been planning to get the kids all year long? Let's avoid the Holiday stress and get it out of the way now," said the well organized and always thinking ahead Mom.

To which the dad replied "Wii's are last year's thing. They're not going to sell out. There will be plenty. PLENNN-TYYY"

And the mom said "Mmmm-hmmm."

Because when The Dad thinks he is right, he is not going to listen to The Mom. Even though The Mom's track record clearly proves that SHE IS ALWAYS RIGHT. Especially when it comes to matters involving shopping. The Mom is very good at this. The Dad should know that by now.

So the mom and the dad and their kids enjoyed their turkey, their stuffing and their desserts. They talked, they laughed, they shared what they were thankful for, and they made fun of all the crazy shoppers going out at midnight to get the best deals.

But, on the day after Thanksgiving, the mom woke up in a panic. She knew that while they had been peacefully sleeping late, all snug in their beds, their bellies full of turkey and pie, THE REST OF THE WORLD WAS OUT BUYING UP ALL THE Wii'S.

And on that Friday morning when she awoke, she found out she was right.

And even the dad started to act a little shocked at the fact that the STORES WERE OUT OF THE Wii'S. Because they were last year's thing. And the stores had PLENNN-TYYY.

The dad even hopped online, and all of the Local All-Things Electronic Stores that sell online, promptly informed the dad, in big red letters, that they were SOLD OUT. Just like the mom may have mentioned once, or seven, times.

Even at the online mega store that is Walmartdotcom, Wii's were SOLD OUT.

The moms' foot began to tap and her finger began to point, and even the dad was starting to sweat a little bit.

So the dad went to Ebay.
And of course they had the Wii on the Ebay.
Like the commercial says, whatever 'IT' is, you can find 'IT' on Ebay.

For a price, that is.

Of course the Wii's were not the same price that the dad would have paid had he just gone to the Local All-Things Electronic Store Where the Sign is A Yellow Tag back in August.

And of course the mom was right.
Again.

And the dad knows it.
Again.

So somewhere tonight, over the great western part of this vast country, a Wii is slowly making it's 3 day priority mail way to our house.

Where the mom is right, and the dad knows it.

Because my extreme OCD has been dwelling on the sideways-ness of this poor bird all day

I finally fixed it.

And I will be able to sleep tonight without tossing and turning all night over the sideways turkey in my computer.

Don't they make some type of medication for this?

Cue the Montgomery Gentry music, 'cause This Is MY Town

Every year, the day before Thanksgiving, a local bar in my small town hosts its annual Turkey Testical Festival.

Yep, you read it right.

That would be a festival in honor of fried turkey balls.

Deep fried, that is.

And, I read somewhere that like 5000 people attend this thing.

5000 people?

Eating these?

Prepared like this?

I feel like at this point, I should write something funny.

But clearly, I am not at the top of my game when it comes to turkey ball humor.

Because the thought of eating a turkey's reproductive organs, frankly, makes me a little queasy.
Although, that seems too specific of a statement.

Let me broaden it to include all reproductive organs, of bird or mammal. Or reptile. Or fish. Or bug. Basically, anything that might be out there reproducing does not need to live in fear of me deciding I'd like to chop of its manhood to enjoy as a snack while I drink beer and listen to live music until 2am. Because I prefer peanuts with my beer. Or nachos.

So, even though I do not participate in the festival of the testicals, I do not mind the festive signage that pops up around my town every year.

In fact, the longer I live here, the more it feels like home.

Especially when my Thanksgiving company gets such a chuckle out of driving by these signs on their way to my house every year.

This is wrong. On so many levels. Like the fact that someone made a cartoon out of a turkey getting his balls chopped off. And I think it's funny. And the fact that I have to explain this 'joke' to my kids, because I giggle every time I drive by this sign. Because this picture is 9 feet tall and is in the center of my town. And I must drive by it no less than 7 times a day.

(Please excuse the sideways-ness of this picture. I hope you still get the idea. I've tried to fix it, but blogger hates me. And it's a holiday. And I have about 142 other things to be doing. Like cook a turkey.)

(And I don't even want to know what happened to his manhood, as long as it's not in one of those white bags I pulled out of my bird.)

(And I am writing about deep fried turkey testicals, so how picky can I really be?)

And on this day of giving thanks and being grateful for our blessings,

I am sure that someone, somewhere this morning, is very grateful that Miller bottles were $4.00.

ALL DAY!

My husband may or may not be that someone.

Happy Thanksgiving to you all!

Teetering on the brink of reality

I am hosting 24 people for Thanksgiving dinner in a few days. And I'm not even freaking out.

I am in control. I have a plan. A schedule. I have a list.

My list currently has 21 things to do on it before I go to sleep on Wednesday.

1. Fix the light switch in the foyer so the outside lights actually turn on, thereby lighting the way down the fronts steps for K's 91 and 86 year old grandparents.

2. Patch and paint all of the nicks and dings in the basement walls so that people actually think my children play nicely together instead of hurling toys at each other in fits of rage.

3. At some point, get to the grocery store to buy actual food to serve to the 24 people on Thursday.

4. Plan a vacation, because I'm experiencing a bit of post-vacation-is-over-and-it-sucks-to-be-back-in-the-cold-with-things-to-do-that-don't-include-laying-on-the-beach-depression-disorder.

5. Find and buy mini taper candles at Williams Sonoma because while I had the great idea to buy taper holders in the shape of turkeys while I was there two days ago, I did not have the foresight to realize I would need the actual tapers for the taper holders.

6. Call every Williams Sonoma in the Chicagoland area to see who still has mini tapers in stock since the one located closest to my house in now sold out of them. Then, spend a morning driving to go get them. Because if the food sucks, at least the table will look nice.

7. Repeat step 6. for the Turkey Brine seasonings. Because the one jar I bought is only good for a 20lb. turkey. And I bought a 22lb. turkey. And my OCD will not let those two extra pounds go unbrined.

8. Reorganize my kitchen cabinets and drawers so when people look in them they will be fooled into thinking the rest of my house is just as organized.

9. Clean out the fridge so it is shiny bright to anyone who opens it. Because I think nothing says disgusting like sticky apple juice with a few stray dog hairs in it stuck on a refrigerator shelf. And that is not exactly the impression I'm trying make on my dinner guests. Whose food has been stored in my fridge. With the sticky apple juice. And dog hair.

10. Repaint the family room ceiling. Because the family room is just too dark. And after all, I have three days.

11. Tidy up the front coat closet so that actual coats fit in it.

12. Learn to speak some french, since I found out this weekend the French cousins will be coming. To Thanksgiving. THE AMERICAN HOLIDAY. Not the holiday in which the pilgrims that came over from France introduced us to the croissant.

13. Decide what to feed French vegetarians for Thanksgiving dinner.

14. Sweep the back patio in case anyone goes out there. Or at least looks at it, out the back window.

15. Clean the sliding glass door so that in case anyone did want to look out at the back patio that was freshly swept for their viewing pleasure, they would actually be able to see it through a clean window.

16. Make ahead dressing, mashed potatoes, squash, and sweet potatoes, and anything else I can think of that can possibly be made ahead of time. And find my recipes for all of these dishes. They are definitely around here somewhere.

17. Get the turkey brining started. Once the 2nd jar of seasonings is bought, that is.

18. Figure out where I am going to seat 24 people and set the table.

19. Figure out if I even own 24 plates.

20. Go to Target and buy more plates.

21. Get a manicure.

Because a manicure will make me look like I had it together this week. Manicured hands will say 'Look at me! I'm so together and organized I had time to get my nails done while shopping, cooking and repainting for 24 people!

And tomorrow, I will be back on this side of reality. And the freaking out will begin.

Was it a bad day? Or was I just crabby?

Dear Cable Company,

When your OnDemand service is not working, it is very hard to explain to a three year old that we cannot watch Dora right now, this very second. In case you don't deal with a lot of three year olds in your business, they are not the most understanding group of people. Please fix, thank you.

Me


Dear Jewel Food Store in Huntley,

When I am running in for a few quick items, the last place I would look for the blocks of Velveeta cheese would be in the cracker and cookie aisle sandwiched between the frosted animal crackers and the Nature's Valley organic raspberry tart bars. Could you maybe put the Velveeta someplace where someone could actually find it? Like maybe by the other cheese? Or even the prepared foods aisle? Even the dip section by all the chips would've made more sense to me than looking for cheese in the cookie aisle.

Me


Dear Fiona's Tutor,

If I am paying you thirty dollars per hour every week, I would really feel better about it if the girl would not bring home a big fat F on her spelling test. I could save the thirty bucks and tutor her myself if I wanted her to bring home an F.

Me


Dear Old Man in the Parking Lot,

If you are waiting in the car to pick up your blue-haired wife while she runs into the grocery store, she's probably going to be awhile because the Velveeta is very hard to find. So, I would really appreciate it if you could not parallel park, while waiting for her, across the closest 4 spots to the door. Someone might actually want to park in those. Try waiting in the fire lane next time. Just a thought, thanks.

Me


Dear Ikea,

When I buy a clip on light for my son's headboard so he can read in bed, it would be so much easier if it took a standard size light bulb. Like maybe one that I could find among the 3,527 choices of light bulbs at my local Home Depot. Why is it that every light fixture you make seems to only take weird sized bulbs that require me to make a trip to Ikea? It's just a tiny bit inconvenient.

Me


Dear Laundry,

If you could get yourself done, that'd be great.

Me


Dear Hospital Pre-Registration Lady,

If you could not say cancer as many times as possible over the course of a six minute phone call, that would really help. Just a thought.

Me


Dear Neighbor Across the Street,

If you are going to go to the bus stop every morning and make others look at you, could you please change out of your pajamas? The thought of looking at you in those flannel cat pants every morning, all winter long, has me seriously considering driving my kids to school. I'm just sayin'.

Me


Dear Neighbors Behind Me,

If you are going to walk around your downstairs naked, could you please close your sliding door curtain? Personally I think being naked in the kitchen is gross, but to each his own.

Me


Dear TV Show Writers,

Please end this strike quickly. I hate reruns.

Me


Dear Amazon.com,

Could you please get my one click ordering button working? I am a busy woman. It's not like I have time to sit around all day shopping for books and music.

Me


Dear Local Toys R Us,

You are out of stock of the Rose Petal Cottage. If you are going to run commercials advertising something, could you at least make sure you still have it in stock the week before Thanksgiving? Because I really feel like if I am Christmas shopping for a Rose Petal Cottage before Thanksgiving, I am well within the allotted shopping time frame of when you should still have things I need in stock. If it's after Thanksgiving, then hey, that's on me. But the week before? Me thinks that Geoffrey better come up with some more cottages pretty quick.

Me


Dear Family-in-Law,

I don't mind hosting all the big get togethers at my house year after year. After year. But could you please stop using the excuse that I have the biggest house? Or that I am the only one with a double oven? My house is just an average sized, stuck in the middle of vinyl sided suburbia, house. And, for the record, I have a double oven because upon purchasing this house I had the foresight to know that dino nuggets and potato smiley faces need to be cooked at different temperatures, but it is convenient to have them ready at the same time.

Me


Dear Me,

You really should wash your hair everyday, it looks much better when you do. Just an FYI.

Mirror

"And I Count It All As Time Well Wasted."

It's official.

I'm loosing it. And by It, I mean my mind. It is gone.

I know that I have mentioned a time or two that I have a slight problem with procrastinating.

And today, I must mention it again. Because I have really hit rock bottom. I have a to do list a page long, and somehow I managed to only get one thing crossed off of it today.

Due to the fact that I was busy. Very busy.

Entering bloggy giveaways. Catching up on some blog reading. Visiting People.com, because you know Britney's album was released today and OH MY WORD IS ANYONE OUT THERE BUYING IT?

Because I am concerned.

And what, you ask, am I exactly procrastinating from doing?

That would be packing. For all 6 of us. My kids have a fall break next week, and we are leaving Friday afternoon on our journey towards sunny skies and sandy beaches. And drinks that are served with big chunks of pineapple and little paper umbrellas in them.

And I hate packing. Because it is so much easier to pack, when the laundry is actually done. And laundry and done are not two words that are spoken together very often in my house.

So I was busy today doing anything BUT the laundry. And the packing. And the cleaning. And getting a pedicure. And renting movies. And exchanging too small shoes, for Choppy. Because I am too lazy to leave my house.

So instead, I made good use of my time. Of course I did.

There is a blog I like called Creative Organizing. I like this blog because it is so pretty. It is clean and simple and funny and all the projects that Aby shows are just perfect. And I am a sucker for perfect. So in doing my catch up blog reading, I came across this.

Which I found to be...inspirational. And of utter importance. And something I must do RIGHT NOW. Because what if we get sick? And need medicine? And can't find it? And then it won't matter if I haven't packed for our trip if I CAN'T FIND THE PROPER MEDICINE WE NEED. Because we will be sick. And we won't be going.

So see, I really was thinking ahead on this one.

I even pulled out the old P-Touch again. Because hey, Gramma always said if you're gonna take the time to do something, do it right.

When I was in college, procrastinating meant laying in my dorm room all day watching all the Designing Women re-runs and Sally Jesse my brain could take.

Now that I'm an adult, I organize pharmaceuticals. That I've paid 20.00 a bottle for. With a p-touch.

And that Internets, is the value of a college education.