And then there are those days

Today, well, sucked. I went to bed last night clearly in a funk.

I woke up crabby.

All I wanted to do at work was bury my head in a ginormous year-end report, but nope. That didn’t happen.

Instead stupid people happened. Stupid people happen every day, so I’m not sure why my hope was to get by without them today. On a Friday. On a post-holiday Friday of a short week.

Every text hubby sent me was merely replied to with, “Ok.” I just didn’t care.

He noticed. He tried. He stopped and bought dinner fixings and was cooking a glorious meal of filet, baked potato, fresh salad (the good kind my best friend calls “eating your yard”) and a loaf of my favorite multi-grain bread when I got home. And I couldn’t be bothered.

Yes, I ate my glorious dinner (the whole damn thing) and I thanked him for a wonderful meal because I’m not that big of an ass. But other than that, it’s been a silent night and I dont think I’ve said anything since dinner. And I don’t care.

At all.

Even crocheting isn’t helping and that usually relaxes me and helps wash away a shit day.

Guess it’s just extra shitty.

Here’s hoping tomorrow is a better day or the whole weekend is going to be shot to hell.

You are an obsession, you’re my obsession 

A few weeks ago I decided it was time for me to brush up on my crochet skills. Or should I say my lack of crochet skills. My mom taught me once upon a moon but, like with a lot of things I learned as a pre-teen, I didn’t keep up with it.

After unsuccessfully inquiring at a local artsy-fartsy store, a friend of mine volunteered to teach me. And teach me she did. Between her instruction and some YouTube videos, I have rocked out several fun projects and I am now officially obsessed.

Nevermind afgahns, traditional booties and boring hats, I  want to make the cute, quirky and trendy items. 

And in the past four weeks I have turned out these…

A cute, floppy toddler sun hat.

A fairly typical pompom-topped newborn beanie.

An absolutely adorable pair of Ugg knockoffs. These turned out so well that I have an order to make another pair for a co-worker.

A newsboy beanie with matching fur-lined booties.

The Sorting Hat from Harry Potter. This is for our oldest daughter when she finally has kids. She is a huge Harry Potter fan.

And now I’m on to a Spock beanie (with pointy ears) and blue Star Trek baby cocoon. I plan to send that one off to a classmate of mine who just found out her first grandbaby will be making his appearance in August. She loves Star Trek and although she crochet, she sticks to blankets.

And I’m already surfing for the next project after that. Yes, I am completely obsessed.

Selling a house is hard work

I’ve been burning vacation days that I need to use by next week. But instead of doing something fun… pedicure, massage, or even a trip for tasting at a local winery…I’ve been prepping our house to go on the market.

And things haven’t been going as well as I’d hoped. My plan was to spend two or three days on intensive cleaning, purging, and staging, followed by a glorious day of leisurely coffee drinking, sole custody of the remote and hours of binge watching Netflix.

But ten minutes into cleaning the walls I found hundreds of small round dents the same size as air soft pellets. Apparently the boys thought shooting down the hallway at a paper bullseye taped to the wall would go completely unnoticed if they got rid of the immediate evidence.

Umm. No. Grr.

After spackling all the little holes, I decided it was just easier to break out the leftover paint and throw on another coat. 


My paint that I had painstakingly labeled and properly stored was the consistency of cottage cheese. In the years since I originally painted, a majority of the tint had coagulated into a lumpy mess of goop. Yuck. 

And since you can never completely match a new can of paint to an old one, the entire hallway got painted again.

And one of the boys’ bedrooms.

And the lime green room.

Is thankfully now a peaceful blue color that really makes the trim pop.

And then I started on the baseboard heat registers which, btw, are a complete pain in the ass to do correctly. I want them to still function so I took great care and extra time to make sure they weren’t painted closed or open.

I feel like I haven’t even scratched the surface of chores that need to get done before we call a realtor.

I really hope that someone will walk in and fall in love with this almost 3300 square foot house so that we can get started building our new place. The Old Man and I are beyond ready to downsize to 1/3 of that now that all the kids are grown.

Stolen post on this day of Women’s marches

Bastardized post from a friend. And by that I mean that I removed all the bits about God and added some parts of my own. My additions are in italics.


I support a woman’s right to vote.

I support a woman’s right to work.

I support a woman’s education.

I support a woman’s right to equal pay for equal work.

I support a woman’s need for mammograms, pap smears, birth control and women’s health care. However, I don’t necessarily support it as free. If other prescriptions have co-pays, so too should birth control. What makes birth control any more special than heart medication, asthma inhalers, insulin and other medications that keep people alive?

The same goes with sterilization. Please tell me why female sterilization is free when male sterilization is not? Insurance only covers 60 – 70% of the cost of male sterilization. Vasectomies are less expensive, not as invasive a procedure and, quite frankly, isn’t it the guy’s turn? Nothing is more empowering than to send the man to the doctor for a little snip-snip when you are done having, or don’t plan to have children.

I support women.

For the most part I do not support abortion.

I do not support the systematic convincing of a world of women that just because the human being is within our body, we are somehow able to butcher, burn, or destroy it and not be held morally responsible.

Then there are the fathers. We take the voices away from our men…take away their right to protect their unborn children…and then we wonder where the men are. We have silenced them, ladies.

This is not women’s rights. This is not women’s health. This is not supporting our homes or our families.  It is destroying our health, our homes, and our families.  It has created a culture that celebrates the right to choose that our babies, safe and secure in our wombs, die by our hand.

If you have become pregnant as the result of rape or incest, I support your right to choose. 

If YOUR life is at risk, I still support your right to choose.

Other than that, I do not. 

If you plan to be sexually active, get AND RELIGIOUSLY USE birth control.

If, in the heat of the moment you forget or fail to use birth control (or the condom breaks), get the morning after pill immediately. Taking control of your reproductive health is empowering. Killing a child you don’t want is not.

If you disagree with me, that is your right. I can’t change your heart, but this is mine. Babies, unplanned or unwanted, are not ruining our lives. We are. I believe every life is valuable and precious. I believe we are destroying the very essence of what makes us human…I believe there is healing and there are answers…but abortion isn’t it.

And, for my friends who have had an abortion, I would never hold that against you. Just please do not tell me that I do not support women if I don’t support abortion.

All I ever needed to know about Obama

All I ever needed to know about (thankfully) now former Pesident Obama can be summed up in one short phrase… International Megan’s Law. And the fact that he actually signed this abomination of a bill into law.

This law was opposed by many, including the ACLU and our country’s own State Department.


Because for the first time in history, a segment of our citizens will have their passports marked.

Because even though a passport is applied for, citizens must go through a background check to determine if one should be issued. If you are a danger to society, your application is denied.

And ultimately, because this ridiculous legislation is based on fear, not real facts.

Hell, even the Huffington Post actually got the facts in their article right, and that is saying something.

Frankly, there are so very few politicians who step up and do what is right rather than what is popular and what will get them votes. I understand, but they get no points in my eyes. Do what is right no matter what the consequences. If it means you get one term, then you get one term.

Am I sorry to see him go? Nope.

Do I have hope for the future? Absolutely. We should always have hope. (Betty White does have that nailed.)

Do I want President Trump to fail? Hell no. We are all in this together.

And yes, I am hoping and praying that someone will right the wrongs that this portion of our society has had forced upon them.

A little something for my fingers

Let’s talk a little about no-light gel polishes.

First of all, I am completely a polish girl. I’m not a big nails girl, but polish? Heck yeah, bring it on! With my job, people watch my hands all day long. Not that this is a reason for me to like the tips of my phalanges looking their best, but it’s almost embarrassing to me when they don’t.

I’ve struggled for years with finding the right kind of polish.

In addition to my love of polish, I am notoriously demanding of my polish. It’s got to be shiny, the consistency has to be smooth yet not too runny, it’s got to dry fairly quickly, and, above all, it’s got to last more than a day or two. I don’t wear gloves to do dishes. I’m constantly folding paper at work and using my nail edges to give the folds a good crease.

So when UV gel polish came out, I was in love. It ticked off all my requirement boxes. Well, most colors did, a few were really not the right consistency and have long since become acquainted with file 13. The top coat made all colors intensely shiny, I could immediately go from doing my nails to doing the laundry or other light chores without fear of nicking my manicure and a week later it still looked good. Some colors lasted two weeks if I wasn’t out gardening or anything really intense.

Buuuut, there’s always a but, I hated removing it. What time I saved in drying my manicure was spent a week or two later while I sat around with my fingertips wrapped in foil waiting for the polish to soak off.

As an alternative I recently tried no-light gel. Admittedly I’ve only tried the Sally Hansen brand, but really, I’m unimpressed. First of all, the colors rarely look like what they are supposed to. I tried three colors with shimmer and when they dried, the shimmer that was visible in the wet polish was gone.

The top coat was shiny for about 12 hours. It got dull very quickly after that.

There also isn’t a base coat and my nails ended up horribly stained, especially after the pink colors. And the dark gray (although a gorgeous color on, probably my favorite) left ugly dark streaks in any ridge in my nails requiring me to use another dark color next to cover it. I could not put dark gray on one week and then switch to a light pink the next.

Additionally, this stuff didn’t last anywhere near as long as the hype. I did not re-apply coats every day or so either, but seriously, who wants to do that? The only things it had going for it are that it is readily available, it’s not anymore expensive than regular O.P.I. or other non-gel salon brands and it does come off with regular nail polish.

So while I will keep the bottles I have and probably use them on my toes come summer, I won’t be buying more.

Back under the light for me.

Turning over a new leaf

For Christmas this past year, I put one of these on my list.


It’s a Bellabeat Leaf, which is basically a much hipper activity tracker. And I love it. It’s not a hunk of ugly plastic on my wrist. I can wear it as a necklace, a pin or a bracelet. Initial set up and sync consisted of pulling the plastic tab off the battery, downloading the app, bluetoothing my phone and tapping the Leaf.

This is a beautiful piece I’ve gotten numerous compliments on already.

Even better, it’s catching all those steps I’ve been taking while my phone is laying safely on my desk or tucked into my purse. And it’s pretty spot on with monitoring my stress level. When I was attending that funeral for my friend’s son, it noted a much higher stress level for me than usual.

I haven’t slept with it on yet, or used the alarm feature, but I’m going to give that a go tonight.

My phone may be pestering me to be more active, but my Leaf is encouraging me and downloading it all each night when I tap it to sync. I am very pleased with my new bling and have even picked back up with my morning exercise routines. (However, it did make me laugh that stationary biking is NOT on the list of exercises to choose, but sex IS.)


My grand babies have fur

The Old Man and I have six kids between us. Of those six, four are old enough to be parents themselves. But at this point, the only kids they have are fur kids.

And this week we are babysitting one and she’s been having a ball in all the snow we’ve gotten since Christmas. 

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go out and throw her some snowballs.

Too many goodbyes

2106 has been a trying year for so many people and I’m not even referencing the $hit show that was our presidential elections.

I’m talking about real loss. Not celebrities, although we said goodbye to what seems like an awful lot of them.

This year I lost an uncle and a cousin. The loss of my uncle was devastating to my father, even if he won’t fully admit it. Dad is the baby of the family and now it is just him and one other uncle left of the six children my grandmother gave birth to. And my last uncle left has some medical issues that could take him at any time. Maybe having so many siblings allows you the comfort of feeling like you’ll never be alone; you’ll never be the last one left? I don’t know. I’ve never had any such unrealistic views at that, but it’s only my brother and I and we know women generally outlive men. I just know my father has been struggling for the past seven months and it pains me to see it.

The cousin we lost succumbed to cancer. She went through a remission or two, only to have it come back again. Finally she announced that she was tired of feeling sick all the time and terminated all treatment. She had said it was just a break, but it allowed her cancer to grow exponentially and finally expand into her brain. She was 60 years old.

These losses are great and were felt by many, but neither was so awful as the passing of the son of a co-worker on Christmas day. He battled depression his entire life and took matters into his own hands as he was unable to cope. As his aunt said in a letter to the recipients of his organs which she read at his funeral, “You were too sensitive a soul for this world.” It was a theme among all the letters that were written by family, for the recipients of his organs, which were all read at the funeral.

There wasn’t a dry eye in the funeral home.

And in my pocket were the ashes of another young man who took his own life in 2010. I’ve been carrying them around for several months now. He’s been camping, mudding, and hitting the local sights with me. He was with me when I walked the Mackinac Bridge on Labor Day. Incidentally, my co-worker who lost her son to suicide on Christmas Day was also with me on that walk. It felt right to bring him along to the funeral of another young man who left this earth too soon.

The epidemic of our young people who cannot cope with what life has handed them is mind-blowing. People crying over this year’s election results, needing safe spaces, blankets and days off from classes should be a warning flag to their parents that they need some intervention in their lives.

Have we not taught our children how to cope? Have the daily demands for both parents to work to run a household pushed kids to have too much time on their own hands with not enough responsibility (or too much responsibility if they are taking over adult duties in the home)? Is it something in our food supply or environment affecting the development of key portions of the brain?

We need to deal with bullies in schools and online effectively. Not just expel them from school. We need to teach children empathy and compassion and strength of character. We need to build real self-esteem without handing everyone a trophy. I don’t want to harden our children and teach them that the world is cruel, but we do need to teach them that not everyone’s opinion is of value.

I wish I knew the answers. More than that, I wish I was able to turn back time for my co-worker and my friend, whose son’s ashes I will carry with me until I can scatter him in the most beautiful spot I know. I wish that so many families were whole and not so very broken.

Aloha Part I

The Old Man and I had the fabulous opportunity to cover new ground in January. It wasn’t a place that we would have picked ourselves, but we still had a wonderful time and we wouldn’t trade the opportunity for the world.

Hawaii has been on my list of places to visit, just not necessarily now. But one of the loveliest people I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing chose the beautiful island of Kaua’i for her wedding. And we wouldn’t have missed being there for anything. The wedding festivities only took up a couple of days, and the rest of our time was spent exploring either with an amazing group of new friends or out on our own.

On our second day there, we headed out to Waimea Canyon, aka Grand Canyon of the Pacific. And that nickname definitely fits.





And after enjoying the fabulous view, we stopped at the fresh fruit stand in the parking lot. We grabbed some fresh coconut and a jar of organic Kaua’i honey and then stood there looking at all our other options. Finally the Old Man asked what I wanted and I responded with, “Something odd. Something we’ve never seen or heard of.”

The winner was a bag of rambutan.


Interesting looking exterior…


…pretty tasty interior. They reminded me of a grape crossed with a plum.

I loved them. We’ll never see them here in the great, white north, but I completely enjoyed having them for breakfast each morning.

After our lovely, short hike, we headed back and stopped for lunch at a small road-side place. Here’s the thing about Hawaii, the food is expensive. Horrendously expensive. This, combined with the 16 hours of flight time it took us to get there, will probably keep us from going back.

And, sadly, most of it was just okay. There were very few dishes to write home about. My favorite was probably the Spearfish (Hebi) followed by the Striped Marlin (Nairagi). With the shrimp tacos I had on the way back from Waimea Canyon coming in at a close third.


And I didn’t even have to share because the Old Man is allergic to shrimp. *drooling*

Ok, so maybe I miss the shrimp tacos a little lot.

However, it was the only vacation I’ve been on where I actually lost weight.