Cinder Blocks and June Bugs~

We were being lazy on the couch watching Ty Pennington make over houses when I became obsessed with the idea of a cinder block herb garden. As usual, it didn't begin as an obsession. It began as a background shot of a garden wall leading into the house. It wasn't even a main shot or something that Ty pointed out or something the houseowner gasped at...it was somewhere behind what the camera was actually filming. And I didn't immediately want it, I just immediately liked it and was intrigued by it. I mentioned to Jack how cool it looked and he agreed. Then I went home and began to plan. Did I mention it is the dead of winter?

So when I went home, I began by googling cinder block gardens. As always, I needed all the information that my nerdy little heart could find before I planned my own totally better garden. I hit gardening websites and forums and pictures...and I continued to hit them for hours. By the time I feel asleep with my laptop in my...well, lap...I had plenty of information. The next day I made pen and pencil blueprint drawings of different layouts after researching block dimensions. I redrew them over and over, figuring out the best diagram to use for maximum planting while still being pretty. I researched all the different herbs that I would realistically use and found out which of those would grow best in a container garden. Then I created a corresponding map of planting spots, showing exactly which herb would be in each hole. I finished up by summarizing all my diagrams and maps into a shopping list of plants and block so that I could easily amass all the necessary items. Then I showed it to Jack.

This is what I love about Jack. Well, part of what I love about Jack. He didn't laugh, he didn't roll his eyes, he didn't mention the fact that it was five months too early or that I am not a very accomplished block layer or that he has seen me cook with fresh herbs roughly zero times since we began dating. He said he thought we could do it. And last week....we did. And it looks absolutely awesome. And that is me being modest. It really looks even better than that. I will post pictures so you can see for yourself. So check them out and brace yourself for gardening adventure blog postings.

***UPDATE***

Even before I posted this, I had a gardening adventure! Not a great one. Word of advice - when planting an herb garden, do NOT plant directly under a super bright yard light that is activated automatically at dusk and that will attract thousands of June bugs from every direction. If you do...I promise that about twenty of these June bugs a night will commit suicide by flying directly into it, thus leaving gross beetle corpses mingling in your strawberries and rosemary. Yucky.

Blog Refresh~

***UPDATE: After saying what a pain in the ass this was to do, of course I come back a few days later and it is all GONE. UGH. So I will slowly re-tag all this stuff, but I don't have the heart to do it today.

So this title is misleading. I did not change a background or reinvent myself or begin a new season or upload a picture gallery.

I DID however add labels! So exciting! And you better think so because it was very annoying to do, so like it damn it. So now, every character gets tagged if they are mentioned in a blog. This means if you want to read all the mush that is Jack then you click on his name and see everywhere he shows up. Or you can do the same if ya wanna see all my scandal and divorce disaster. I also added just a few labels for the important things in life - my family, my opinions, and of course....food.

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Paper and Pomanders~

So I have several traits that, on the surface look good. In fact, they are good...when used in a productive vein or when viewed on their own. I am very organized, very focused and efficient, and I attack new things with lots of energy and commitment. Sounds very positive. However when you combine all these things - and the power of internet browsing on my phone - and leave it alone on the couch during naptime.....strange things happen. Here is how yesterday went down:

Setting: Our heroine's couch, naptime, traditionally the time when cleaning gets done. Alas, a distraction...

Our (flawed, but amusing) heroine: "Oh look! An article about Kate's bouquet! I need to see that!"

Two minutes later:

"Oh look! A link to someone who made a do-it-yourself bouquet that looks like Kate's! I gotta check it out!"

Two minutes later:

" Oh look! Instructionson how to make paper flowers! I wonder if it really works or if this is just tacky? I need to try it!"

Two minutes later...

I am cutting out typing paper and trying to make paper carnations. Sucess! It could have ended right here, but all those previously mentioned traits? That combined can be used for evil if I don't harness them correctly? They won.

I decided I needed to see the flowers in color so I found scrapbooking paper. I wanted to make different flowers so I googled and researched until I had more designs. I found instructions to make hanging pomander balls that look like the ones I loved at The Wynn in Vegas. So I made my own core with balled up tinfoil and started toothpicking flowers to it and ribboning. When the kids woke up I let them run around like crazy animals - as long as they didn't touch my work station ( the couch) after briefly considering using them like a child sweatshop to churn out mini rosebuds for filler flowers. I seriously thought about telling Jack I would be late for date night so I could finish. Thankfully, a kid got bit which broke my focus and forced me out of my paper flower trance.

So now, I am a paper flower making goddess. And should Jack and I get married one day, we will have the best hanging pomander balls that you have ever seen - way better than the ones I saw online, maybe (definitely) even better than the real Kate bouquet. What a fantastic use of my time, I am genius for spending my free time learning a new, almost-pointless skill. Unfortunately now I still have to do all that cleaning. Maybe I can start selling paper pomander balls and pay someone to do my housework?

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Happy Birthday Jack~

As you may have surmised from the title, today is Jack's birthday. So in honor of that I will dish a little. (I am sure that is all he really wants for his birthday - for me to talk about him to all my blog readers. Just in case though, I also got him a Keurig) With that said, here are ten random, fairly non-intrusive, fun things about Jack and/or us.

1. When I was a little girl I wanted to be a little boy and my parents refused to humor me. So Jack is the one who taught me how to throw a football.

2. Jack is the best listener I have ever met. Which is great because I am pretty awesome at talking.

3. Jack likes to dance when he drinks.

4. I think Jack is sexiest when he is doing ordinary things like laundry or putting the kids to bed.....or breathing.

5. We have still not had a real fight over anything.

6. Next to me and his kids, the thing he loves most is pulled pork sandwiches. Ok, maybe not exactly in that order.

7. Jack is an awesome cook, with an especially good method for cooking steaks - and six out of seven nights he makes us dinner. The seventh night we eat out.

8. He knows someone every place we go. Literally. And half of them still call him by a nickname he had in school, probably thinking it is his actual name. It always makes me smile.

9. He apparently knows how to fillet and cook squirrel. I told him that is a skill I don't need to witness firsthand.

10. He makes me the very best version of myself and more happy than I have ever been. Unless I mess up and eat his leftovers, I see us very happy for a very long time.

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It's A Privilege~

I try hard not to be judgemental. Which, I admit, is hard for me because I am a typical first born child that mostly believes I know all. Therefore, there are many opportunities for me to see people that DON'T know all. I say this tongue-in-cheek....but there is some truth in there. So when I find myself thinking negatively about somebody's ass-backwards...uh, different...ideas or behaviors I try and remind myself that I don't know their story or their background and that I shouldn't judge. However, there are exceptions.

Here's a big one - bad moms. Now I don't mean those who spank their kids or feed them cookies for dinner because they don't want to hear whining after a long day or ones that hit that last nerve and scream 'QUIET!' at the top of their lungs after the fifteenth '...but, MOM..' whine. I mean the women that should never have been allowed to have kids. They are out there. There is no excuse, no background, no story that makes it acceptable to demean, neglect, or mess with your child's head. And there is nothing that makes me sicker than a woman that has blessed with a child and thinks that child is a tool for getting her way or a meal ticket or a weapon to use for power or attention. As a society we should just stitch them all up in uncomfortable places - with blunt instruments and without anesthesia- and give those kids to people that appreciate them for the blessings that they are.

Being able to raise children is a privilege. Even if you didn't expect to be a mom or think you aren't ready to be a mom - if that day comes then you grow the hell up, put your big girl panties on, and get your priorities in order. I think I am sensitive to this issue just because I don't have kids yet at thirty two and I have always wanted them. So it just makes my blood boil that there are these selfish, spoiled, bitchy women that take their kids completely for granted - or worse, use them for their own gain. It feels like the most unfair thing in the world that children aren't always paired with people that love them or treat them the way that they should be. And it sucks that there is so little legally that we can do to change that. How awful is it that one of these moms needs to do something truly atrocious before they lose their rights? Basically, we need them to hurt or endanger a child BEFORE we can step in - instead of stepping in and preventing that hurt. I could vent for days about this topic, but I will spare you all my inner angst and just conclude with....the system sucks and those moms suck...and that is this woman's view~

Coupon Queen~

It would be fair to say that in life thus far I have not been smart with money. I have never starved or slept without a roof (involuntarily) or gone without any real needs. But sometimes....every once in a while...I have been unable to buy a cute new handbag. Tragic.

Anyway, back when I was young and dumb I thought I was better than coupons. I would look at all the people in the grocery store and think arrogantly of how sad it was that they were chained to that little pile of paper in their hands - while I was free to buy anything in the store regardless of coupon or price....I was ruler of the grocery store. Want it, buy it, self-satisfied smirk out the door. Dumb, dumb, dumb.

Even after I grew up (a little) and began to be (somewhat) responsible with my money, I still thought coupons were more hassle than they were worth - for some reason my brain refused to convert coupons to money in my head while rationalizing it through. However, one of my book club members seduced me with stories of free razors and lots of savings and just like that....hooked.

Did you know that a dollar coupon means I get to keep a whole dollar in my purse AND STILL get what I want?? Except at Kroger, it means I get to keep TWO whole dollars! (God loves us, so he gave us double coupons.) And if I collect ten of those coupons I can keep ten, or maybe even twenty, dollars in my purse....to later go spend on something more fun than groceries, like summer handbags or cheesy bread or more organizational tools than any one woman needs.

So now I have a coupon binder, which is the most perfect combination of my new coupon craziness and my old organizational issues. It is like my own little neurotic heaven. And I can't explain the satisfaction I found on my first foray into the grocery stores on a Super Saturday. Three hours, sixty dollars in savings, and a free tube of toothpaste later....I was a tired, but satisfied shopper. I told everyone I knew about my super buys, including under a dollar shampoo and conditioner and rug cleaner. And I immediately began plotting my next attack on the grocery stores. Now it is like a game to see if I can beat my best deal.

The only down side I can see to this is that I am starting to collect things. I used to laugh at my ex-mother-in-law because she literally had a pantry in the basement and anytime she was out of something there was usually one down there. And now it is happening to me. I probably have sixty pounds of dog food, three bags of cat food (my pets are never going to go hungry), and I recently grabbed up four bottles of dish soap at seventy nine cents each. And that isn't even going into my own cupboards yet. I need to be on guard or soon I will end up with random things because they were such a good deal. In the middle of a coupon haze I will be overcome with giddiness that I can save five bucks on a carton of corndogs. When that day comes (and it will) ....I promise to take pictures.

Reluctantly Healthy~

This week I had dinner with Charlotte, who is one of my steady girl dinner date partners. We share a love of red meat, wine, and have a shared intolerance of stupidity. It gives us lots to talk about.

Anyway, during the course of conversation we were talking about the ridiculousness of weight loss and gain. She, being pregant, has an excuse for weight gain. I am simply gestating a twenty pound pizza. And simply writing that sentence makes me want a pepperoni. What on earth is the matter with me???

Absolutely nothing.

Here is my view on weight. Would I like to be 150 pounds and toned and smoking hot and never have to worry about thunder thighs ever again? Of course. Would I like that at the expense of pizza and pop and ice cream and M&M's and all the other completely awful-for-me things that I like? Not a chance.

Genetically, I am not meant to be skinny. Seriously, I researched this and some people's genetic code makes their fat cells more likely to absorb and hang on to fat than other people. It also genetically picks what places on your body that fat clings to. When I told Lola this she didn't feel better. I thought it was reassuring - like....'Hey! Its not us! Its our jeans! Errr....genes!' But she was not reassured. As a matter of fact she went crazy and declared war on our genes, getting all skinny and toned and reinforcing all my bottled up shame from eating more than two doughnuts in one sitting. Ugh.

BUT...

I saw how much Lola had to do to get skinny and toned - and I watch her beat herself up for gaining a few pounds back or losing tone and getting soft or squishy a bit. And I think about all that work sometimes when I sit on my couch and eat my doughnuts. Poor Lola, missing all this sugary goodness and eating her little portions of low fat, low carb, (blasphemy!) mini meals and snacks.

This is not to say that I just sit around and eat and work on producing fat rolls. I occaisionally declare war on my genes from time to time as well. About two years ago I got on a scale just out of curiosity and almost passed out when it said two hundred pounds. Two hundred pounds? How on earth had I got there? If you are two hundred pounds, this is not an insult to you by the way - but for me, that was the line. I knew where I had been my whole life and for me to cluelessly just climb the scale and hit that point was ridiculous. I was completely motivated to get healthy and wage war on my super-soaking fat cells.

So Lola and I and Leah and Olive and a few others all joined a local body challenge and vowed to be in bikinis by summer. Lola kicked all our asses and still today makes me look like her chunky version, but I lost thirty pounds and I felt better than I had in years. At 170, I went out and bought bikinis and lived in them all summer long. I was happy. I was healthy. And I was shameless. And according to medical professionals...I was still twenty pounds overweight.

I am never going to be at my doctor recommended weight. I haven't seen 150 pounds on a scale since I was in high school and I have zero plans that involve ever seeing it again. I know that Americans are overweight and that we all should be health conscious, but at what point do we say enough? People are made in all shapes and sizes and we should embrace that. Especially us women. Let's stop beating ourselves up and find that things that are beautiful about us - whether they jiggle or not. Because let's be real here....do you really want to live a long healthy life....without donuts?

Angry Sunflowers~

So I told Jack the next project was at his house. I even specified that it should be his bedroom. We vaguely discussed colors and ideas and then a few days later......WHAM! A gallon of paint, a new border, and a package of rollers are there. Already. Jack is very project focused. I should keep this in mind for the future and make sure to only mention something if I want to spend my next weekend actually doing it. Lesson learned.

In all actuality, I don't mind the bedroom project. One - because it is a relatively easy project and Two - the sunflowers were out to get me. Let me explain.

Jack has done some type of work to almost every room in his house. His bedroom is the glaring omission. I don't know if it is a boy thing and he doesn't appreciate the wonder of a bedroom sanctuary or if it is just that no one sees it so why bother, but the bedroom was just left to its own devices. Which meant that about three quarters of it was bordered with these very aggressive sunflowers. Now I have nothing against actual sunflowers, but these ones are big and bright and angry looking. I know that sounds weird- but these sunflowers are right in your face with all their ugliness, daring you to say something. They are rogue, bully sunflowers that have been around since 1982 silently glaring off that wall in mute protest of the endof Milli Vanilli. They need to die. So I will happily be digging out my painting clothes again today and murdering sunflowers.

They will be replaced by pinecones that at first glance appear much more peaceful. I take no responsibility for the pinecones, Jack picked them out all on his own. Because he deprived me of shopping for borders with him and just did the boy thing and went out and bought one at the first store he went to, I am withholding judgement and/or approval until I see it on the wall. I can't endorse something I did not specifically organize or pick out. It is against control freak dogma. So if you thought the home repair blogging was at an end because my floor was done.....no fear, there is lots more to come.

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Floor Plans: The Last Frontier

The final floor pictures. At last. And as we entered the home stretch Jack and I were cuddling at the end of the night and he says....so what is our next project? I said I didn't care as long as it was at HIS house.

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Floor Plan Pictures~

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