Sabbatical

I've recently taken a sabbatical from writing my blog post not because I don't have things to write but because darn it...I've been busy.  Just in the past two months I've gotten new carpet laid in my entire house, new tile placed in the master bath, granite counter tops in the kitchen and painted the basement.  

Yes, my house is on the market and I'm moving.  I'm going to simplify my life - downsize to a smaller, rancher-style house and less yard work so I have more time to do what I've been doing for the last couple of months, like:

A half marathon, the 4.5 mile Dirty Dash, sign up to climb Mt. Adams, register for a 5K Foam (look that one up), 150 mile bike ride, won a golf tournament and interviewed for and got a promotion.  Pretty exciting, in a few short days, I am moving to a new office to take a seat as VP - Marketing at my current employer, STCU.  Talk about ecstatic.  I am just a wee bit.  I couldn't of done it without friends, family and my great STCU family.

So, what does this all mean on the "how's your stress level meter, Ms. Richey?"

Pretty darn good.

It may be because last week I showed up for my first Reiki session and my chakras are all aligned, got my teeth cleaned and have no cavities and my favorite 'Rosie Robot from the Jetsons' AKA iPhone Siri, pocket dialed my x-husband who is getting married next weekend...by the way, Mark...congratulations, you deserve the best.

Today, I was invited to board the Mish-a-Nock on Lake Coeur d' Alene and watch the Ironman triathletes swim.  Wow...what an adventure.  I actually felt a bit guilty eating the lovely breakfast buffet they provided us while watching these athletes tackle the cold waters of Idaho.  

The most difficult thing for me to witness was a woman who was four seconds shy of completing the two mile swim in the allotted 2 hours and 20 minutes - she couldn't continue. Thousands of us cheered her on, but she crossed the finish line just a few strokes too late and had to fly back to  her hometown of Virginia after having trained for two years for her first race.  

She was pulled off the course.  She wouldn't be able to show herself (or others) whether she could peddle her bike 112 miles or run the 26.2 miles needed to complete.  

Talk about a sabbatical...I grant you one, ma'am.

And the winner...he completed the entire race (swim, bike, run) - 140.6 miles in 8 hours and 30 minutes.  

And the winning woman...from my very own Spokane, completed the grueling race in 10 hours.

True Ironmen (women).

My first visit to Texas, big hair and all

I hopped on a plane last week and headed south to the great state of Texas.  My first. 

I didn't quite know what to expect other than 90 degree weather and 90% humidity so I packed accordingly. 

I got a great consulting gig and the best part of it all, I was visiting close friends. 

US Airways was my carrier.  I heard noises on that plane I'd never heard before.  The plane actually sounded like it was running on train tracks rather than flying in the air.  You all (noticed I learned a bit of Texan when I was there) need to know I'm not able to fall asleep on planes (or in cars for that matter) so it was quite a long flight.  When I touched down in Houston, I was not surprised to see shorts, tank tops, large canteen hats and big hair.  I'm talking the biggest hair I've seen since my senior portraits, taken in 1987.  These women (and some men) use aqua net proudly.

The rental car company was quite nice.  They gave me a nice mid-size vehicle, a Chrysler.  I was a bit scared when I stepped lightly on the gas.  It had turbo.  But after pulling out of the airport, I realized quickly why this car had get up and go.  Most people in the Houston area drive 90 mph.  In fact, gang members turn on their emergency flashers and travel in a pack.  Weaving back and forth.  Grandma drivers were even passing me.  So, I picked up the pace and drove 80 mph to find 59 South.   PS, 80 mph was still too slow. 

My first impression of Texas:

1.  Big hair
2.  Fast cars
3.  Large confederate flags
4.  Huge roaches on the road that go crunch when you drive over them
5.  And, billboards everywhere.

The first billboard I saw said, "love."  Ahhh. This is nice. 

A mile later, "marriage."  Hmmm.  I'm intrigued. 

Two miles later, "along comes a baby carriage." 

I felt like I entered the 1920s. 

Remember the Burma-Shave advertising campaign?  Burma-Shave was an American brand of brushless shaving cream.  It was introduced in 1925 by the Burma-Vita company.  The company's original product was a liniment made of ingredients described as coming "from the Malay Peninsula and Burma." Demand was sparse, and the company sought to expand sales by introducing a product with wider appeal, so they launched its advertising gimmick of posting humorous rhyming poems on small, sequential, highway-billboard signs.

My first stop was Sugar Land, Texas. 

Founded as a sugar plantation in the mid 1800s and incorporated in 1959, Sugar Land is located in Fort Bend County, 20 miles southwest of downtown Houston.  

I stayed the night there. 

But before I lay my head to the bed, I had to eat some dinner.  It was 8 pm (6 pm back home). 

This was the real test.  Would they have vegetarian?  (I gave up vegan for the four days I was visiting Texas). I had this sneaking suspicion they wouldn't know what "vegan" meant, let alone vegetarian.  I almost thought for a minute that I may have to stop at one of the many barbecue stands that were set up along side of the road.  In fact, they are known for longhorn meat and carnivorous ways. 

I had a nice mesquite quesadilla minus cheese.  (The waitress didn't really know what to do with that information). 

When I woke up the next morning at o' dark hundred, I was shocked to see a very large windstorm and raindrops that looked like Bologna sandwiches.  Remember?  I didn't pack for rain.  No coat.  No umbrella. 

That day, my hair was big.  Huge. 

I pulled into the town of Victoria, Texas.  My official destination. 

The University of Houston - Victoria, is a delightful campus in Victoria and was home to me for three days.

Victoria is located thirty miles inland from the Gulf of Mexico. The city is a regional hub for a seven-county area known as the "Golden Crescent" and serves a retail trade area of over 250,000 people. Victoria is known as "The Crossroads" because of its location within a two-hour drive of Corpus Christi, Houston, San Antonio and Austin.

And, Victoria is home to the oldest deli in Texas.  Even better, Fossati's Delicatessen is one of the oldest restaurants in the country.  It looks like a snapshot from Little House on the Prairie.

I had a nice pasta salad with the best dressing ever. 

Even better, I had the same thing for dinner.





The challenge was the next day at lunch. 

You see, breakfast was fine. I grabbed a banana, a soy latte and was out the door. 

Lunch and dinner were a bit of a struggle.

In fact, that day for lunch I went with three gentleman who really didn't know what a vegetarian was or if they really wanted to know. 

One asked, if I still ate chicken.  The other said, no fish?  But shrimp, right?

Thank goodness the chef had recently moved from Phoenix.  I was able to get polenta.  And, the three Texans that were with me, had a slab of each. The food presentation was so pretty, they just had to stick their fork in it and try it. 

After lunch, we looked at the "river" behind the restaurant.  The restaurant, once an old pump house (now cleverly named the Pump House) had outdoor seating so you could enjoy your food while looking at dead carcases on the muddy river - creek.  Yes, I saw an ol' dead alligator and a wild bore.  No bueno. 

I have to say, the hospitality in Texas is off the charts.  So many people wanted to carry my bags, others grabbed my purse (which I fear back home), they opened doors, scooped me up into trucks and kissed me on my cheek.  Kind and gentle folks in Texas.

It's the only state in the union that the down trodden economic times hasn't hit and a gallon of gas is $3.  Yes, I loved Texas. 

I loved seeing my friends and their new son and I loved seeing the armadillo on the side of 59 South.  Sure, he was taking the dirt nap but I've only seen armadillos on Saturday morning cartoons.

Thanks Texas.  I'm glad I have my hair tamed after you took control.

Creative mind block leads to new business

A friend of mine shared with me the other day that the last few blog posts I've written haven't been very creative.  You've gotta love a friend who can be completely honest with you and at the end of the day, love them for it.

I could blame it on several projects, laziness, boredom or the simple fact, I don't have anything to share.  

Or, I could tell you that when I write, I find myself not wanting to put down what's in my mind in fear that I will put my foot in my mouth like I did the other day.  Picture a room full of people and mistaking the person introducing themselves and saying they were a Mormon instead of member.  Heck, I didn't know.  Just to note, there is an active Mormon.org television campaign happening right now in Spokane and one of the Republican candidates just so happens to be Mormon so I thought it might fit.

Or, maybe it's because no one really reads what I write and I wonder why I continue to blog.  It's like not having a voice when you're in the room with someone else.  You continue to talk and ask questions but the person sitting right there with you is oblivious.  Really.  That does happen.

But today, it is simple writers block.  

Oh, but wait, I named my first business.  Yes, that is a fun and quick story.  My personal trainer, Grant, is opening his own gym in seven days.  Fully equipped with new machines, dumb bells, shaker weights, Zumba classes and a partridge in a pear tree.  Mind you, the shaker weights are for your shake mixes, which I am told need to be stirred and shaken outside the new fitness studio because H20 is only allowed in his new digs.  And, he doesn't teach Zumba but it would be quite fun to see this lively world class trainer try to move like Richard Simmons.

I named it Impact Fitness - he actually liked it, got a business license, rented space, renovated it and now has a live link on the web - check it out http://impactspokane.com/

Go, go Gadget go.  I am huge fan of the new space.  It doesn't have ants.

Last but not least, I pitched another name of a business to a dear friend.  She liked it so I may have a second career...naming new businesses.

Hmmm. I see some trade outs happening in my future.  Isn't that what people do when they can't afford something.  They trade - just like children's trading cards.

 

 

To Facebook or not

Big news headlines: 

Log off! As Facebook plans a $5bn stock market float, one trenchant sceptic describes how the social network is ruthlessly selling your soul

Does this social networking site turn you into a product and does it make your friendships, marriages and children into a product? 

 

So, now the big question...do you continue to have a profile on Facebook or is just the success of a business and now we must take it down? We all know the story behind Facebook.  Originally called thefacebook, Facebook was founded by former-Harvard student Mark Zuckerberg (while at Harvard) who ran it as one of his hobby projects with some financial help from Eduardo Saverin. Within months, Facebook and its core idea spread across the dorm rooms of Harvard where it was very well received. Soon enough, it was extended to Stanford and Yale where, like Harvard, it was widely endorsed.

Before he knew it, Mark Zuckerberg was joined by two other fellow Harvard-students – Dustin Moskovitz and Chris Hughes – to help him grow the site to the next level. Only months later when it was officially a national student network phenomenon, Zuckerberg and Moskovitz dropped out of Harvard to pursue their dreams and run Facebook full time. In August 2005, thefacebook was officially called Facebook and the domain facebook.com was purchased for a reported $200,000.

And now, we ask ourselves, the people who helped launch Facebook.  "The profiles,"  I will call us...why wouldn't we want to purchase stock in this profound venture?  Some of you (so I've heard) will delete your profile, others plan on replicating themselves like Dolly the sheep and still some of you remain 'OFF of Facebook' all together.  

What percentage of the world is not on Facebook?  After doing a bit of research, calculations and Googling...I found that as of today based on the population of the world, the 2010 census, computer owners and the earth's rotation...the answer is: 6.5 billion

10 reasons why you won't quit Facebook according to Business Week:

1. You're not going to go back to waiting an hour to send an email to 30 people with 40 photos attached.

2. How will you remember anybody's birthday?

3. How will you stalk your college boyfriend's new fiance?
 

4. Without Facebook what are you going to do when you don't have a friend's email address or phone number?

 

5. Forget Facebook? 80 million of you are addicted to Zygna's Facebook game, FarmVille.

6. It takes 2 seconds to "join" a new site through Facebook Connect. It can take a good 10 minutes doing it the old way. (Care to subscribe to these magazines?)

7. How will you hear about parties? How will you remember where and when those parties are? Evite?

8. You don't care about Mark Zuckerberg's sometimes sketchy past.

9. Sure, Facebook has privacy issues, but you don't care about privacy anymore. Remember when you wouldn't use your real name on the Internet?

10. You've never quit before. Remember those darn news feeds?  People are voyeurs, not even if you don't want to, you can't help but to scroll down and find out what others are doing.  You complain about their posts but you read them don't you?

10 reasons why you will quit Facebook according to Business Week's naysayers or why you just aren't on now:

 1. If I want to upload photos, I am going to upload them to Picasa or something similar, then email a link to there.

2. I will store them in any of a hundred fully functional and free calendar applications that are out there to remember birthdays.

3. Honestly, I think I can handle life with a little less stalking activity in it. In fact, I think it might be good for me.

4. I happen to have the email addresses of all of my (real) friends. If I wanted to contact someone and I didn't have any contact information for them, I guess I would do what I did before we were friends on Facebook: track it down. Mutual friends? White pages? Come on. I have the email addresses of anybody that I have emailed, has emailed me, or has been cc:d on an email that I have received, in the past few years. I can find them easily in Gmail. Am I supposed to be frightened to death of the possibility of not being able to contact somebody that I used to be "friends" with on Facebook?

5. Being addicted to FarmVille is a reason to leave Facebook, not to stay!

6. I don't care to subscribe to news feeds/magazines. I already get too much crap in my inbox as it is.

7. I have never once gone to an event that I was invited to on Facebook. How about that? I have gone to multiple events I was invited to on Evite.

8. Most days, I don't care the slightest bit of Zuckerberg or the history behind Facebook and those spoiled brats from Harvard.

9. I do care about privacy. 

10. I've quit many things in my life, and Facebook won't be the last.

 

 

Fodder for a Blogger

The last few weeks I have placed my blog on hiatus.  Not because I didn't have stories to tell but because I am knee deep and involved in renovating my home projects.  Yes, not renovating my home but my home projects. I have "re" prioritized several times and have received second and third opinions.  I think I have it narrowed down to at least ten projects.  

While the paint is drying in the bedroom, I thought I would take a minute to jot down the strangest (funniest) sayings/stories I've heard from friends and family over the last few weeks. All these are quotable meaning, yes, I did hear them with my own two ears - no exaggeration however the quotes' owners will remain anonymous.  

• Don't you take the toilet paper leftover in hotel rooms? I do.  My last vacation I was gone for 11 days. Everyday when the cleaning crew came in, I took the new roll.  I am set for at least the next two months.
• I am wearing red underpants said by a friend...at the dinner table.
• I am ready to workout and get back to the gym.  No, I am not.  My back hurts.  No wait, my head hurts.  Actually, I am just not ready.
• Everyone looked so nice at the party.  Some looked like they got their dresses on the clearance rack.  They only showed up with half of it on.
• I don't need to hand out business cards, everyone knows who I am. 
• I want you to write about me in your blog. It's more fun when you write about me.  Really, Grant?
• I won this jacket.  It cost me $1000...at the casino.
• Can I please take out those pillars?  It would look so much better. Even if there are holes in the ceiling afterwards, it would look much better.  Spoken by someone with a sawzall in their hands for the first time.
• Are you using a tanning booth?  Because it looks and smells like it.
• Do you listen to me?  "Huh?" on the receiving end.
• If "Words with Friends" doesn't work on your phone, buy a new phone.
•  I think the "real" butter on the popcorn is what made me sick...not that the bag of microwave popcorn was two years old.
• Will you please call them back and tell them that we are bringing dinner over to their house? I don't like what they are serving.
• What is the number 7, Angela? - OK, this one is an inside joke but quite quotable.  

Overtime accumulation

I had a fantastic thing happen to me this week.  I was confronted by a sweet voice asking me two questions:

1.  Why would you need all of those vases?

2.  Is there a reason why you haven't changed your bright emerald green carpet from the early 90s - all 2500 square feet of it?

The answer to the above questions was, "I don't know."

It's not because I am a collector of vases and its not because I've enjoyed living on turf but when life continues to move forward sometimes you just put things in cupboards or you stop looking down.

So, first for the vases...

I believe there are three types of people:

Collectors

Hoarders

Minimalists

I have chosen today to be a minimalist.  I am cleaning out.  After 15 years, I've saved (for whatever reason) roughly 25 vases; most are from flowers I've received over the years and some are antiques.  

When my grandma died in 2008, I was the depository for most of her items.  My mom thought since I had most of the room in my home, I should take grandma's vases, dishes, vintage clothes and some handbags.  Mind you - I don't mind the sentimental value of those items however how many vases should I keep and for who?  Please notice, I'm not doing anything with clothes or handbags :)

It's a bit scary to open a cupboard and find all of them there - I flash back to a scene from someones car with mounds of paper, glasses and recycled items.  

Could I be a glass recylcler? - BTW,  'recycler' is a made up word  - urban dictionary would be so proud -  or could I be like a person who uses their car as a storage unit?

That is a nightmare.

Recently, I've had conversations with others about their organizational skills at home.  Some have pathways they walk around, others don't want to get rid of anything in fear they may need it and then there are those that have a case of OCD and are scared of dust and particles living on anything.  I get it...everyone is different but what is the best way for me?  I want to be efficient.  I want to be cost sensitive and what I am doing right now is rationalizing my hoarding like tendencies so Barb, get rid of the vases and have a garage sale.  That is what I am going to do...I am going to encourage (real word is enable) others to hoard.  Please, come buy my junk and add to your disease of collection.  

Question 1 - SOLVED

Now, question 2.  That emerald green carpet.  When my X and I bought our house in 2000, I had vision.  Yes, I saw the deep green, swap-like carpet but I told myself, I'll lay new carpet.

HA

Now, 12 years later, the green carpet still exists.  Talk about dust collection. 

The cats are doing their part to remove it.  Frankie and Cooper love to scratch on the staircase - believe it or not it's quite good carpet and has held its durability and COLOR well.  

But, as my little sweet voice said, "Barb, it's time to do something about the carpet."

OK!  

Yesterday, I confirmed an appointment to have the luxurious emerald green carpet removed and replaced with a more neutral oatmeal color.  Some may say, "how boring." 

Well, I've tried living with wild...for 12 years now so I think boring, neutral oatmeal carpet will be a refreshing change and will get me on the path of moving on. 

Bye bye emerald green - a blast from my past and hello oatmeal - I am sure you will be much better for me and healthier too.

Chocolate droppings

I would like to challenge a blog post I read from an Alaskan resident.  She states, "Only in Alaska do you look in your rear view mirror of your car to see if there's a moose in your driveway before you back out of your garage in the morning."

I completely disagree because Wednesday morning it happened in eastern Washington to me of all people.  As I pushed my garage door opener the door raised slowly and there it was.  A calf moose sleeping in my driveway.  It was larger than my new car.  I've heard some real horror stories of how mean they are and situations where they've charged cars but what was I supposed to do?  I was in my garage.  I was in my car.  I was attempting to make my way to work. 

And then I noticed two more moose.  Yes.  It was mama moose and her sister or maybe it was her oldest but I was witnessing mom eating breakfast on my bushes and auntie doing her business on my front lawn and baby calf taking a little snooze.

I looked down at my phone - not to take a picture mind you. I was enamored by their size and beauty, I forgot entirely to click the camera.  I did however text my colleagues at work.  "I will be a bit late for work.  There is a family of moose impeding my progress this morning."  I loved one of my return responses from a coworker.  "Don't just sit there...shoot them."  Oh yeah right.  Me, shoot them.  Am I to use my BB gun that I purchased last year for my woodpecker problem?  That worked so well for me last year.  

I didn't shut the garage door as I didn't want to asphyxiate myself nor did I want to honk as to cause a ruckus so I waited for about 25 minutes until they sauntered off on up the hill.  

Then I thought, "no one is going to believe this...I didn't get photos."

So, the next morning I was ready.  I had my camera and I slowly opened the garage door but no luck.  No moose this morning.  As I turned to go back into the house I looked over at my neighbor's backyard and there they were.  Clearly they didn't want to make me late to work again but they did leave traces for me in my yard...little 'chocolate' presents that will be gone come spring time.  

Pictured:  Proof of my tardiness to work.  Dear moose:  I will share my space with you anytime and thank you for sharing your space with me.  It was surreal. 

When is your Word your Friend?

Today is the day when some of us (or you) make New Year's resolutions.  My best friend called me today and asked if I could provide her with a "non resolution."  I asked what she meant by that, "well you see,"  she said, "most people make resolutions only to completely fail miserably at them and I want you to dig deep and find something that would be life changing...one thing that you will resolve to do and follow through with."

At first, I smiled and thought to myself.  Doesn't everyone set out for success when making resolutions?  Are you telling me that most people think, "everyone else makes them so should I and by the way, it won't stick anyway?"

Doubtful but for you, Angela, I will make a "non resolution."  Before I do, I have to tell you what my last year's resolution was.  In 2011, I resolved to find a game/hobby or activity that would expand my mind and make me think.  Believe it or not, I found it.  It's a little game called Words with Friends (WWF).  You all know what it is and if you don't, you are behind the curve.  It's not too late to play and most people are addicted so you can find a virtual meet up on Facebook and be accepted into the cult.  

Some of you have killed the game.  Some of you have sworn.  Some of you have cheated. 

Some of you challenge the game but most of you play the game with "friends."  I quote friends because after playing a few games and losing your shorts, you wonder if these people are your friends or not.  And, you wonder if the computer is ripping you off or rigged in some way.  There are a few words that are actually words and WWF won't let you place them.  Did you know I tried several times to place the tiles to spell the word QUITE and it came back with UITE is not a word.  Really?  I didn't place UITE.  I placed QUITE. After several tourette outbursts, I finally had to place QI.  

Or, try the word, GAEL.  It doesn't work.  Does that mean that the  St. Mary's Gaels are meaningless?  BTW, WWF, Webster defines gael as:  

1. somebody who speaks Gaelic: somebody from Scotland, Ireland, or the Isle of Man who speaks Gaelic
2. Scottish Highlander: somebody from the Scottish Highlands

I am sure if I can use the letters AE to form a word, I should be able to use GU. Yes, GU and not the private university in Spokane but the meaning of GU is medicine/genitourinary.

And, I am pretty sure that LOOT is a word but you try it and see.  It doesn't work.  Should I call the creator of WWF and say WTF?  Or, should I propose to make another "non resolution" for 2012 and make up words in daily speak and call it babalish - meaning Barb's made up language for people who have tried words on WWF only to be disheartened by the pop up message on the screen, "Sorry, XXX is not an acceptable word."  

Most of my friends already know that I speak Babalish however it would be fun to use a "non word" a day in conversation and see if the person on the other end can tell or better yet repeat it in other company and carry on a new language.  

So, Angela, with that said, my non resolution for 2012 is to create my own language and have one person in my life accept me for who I am.     

Happy New Year everyone.  May 2012 bring you peace, happiness and a love for non words.

Those darn Christmas lists...

It's that time of year again when you ask your loved ones "what do you want for Christmas?"

Their response, "Nothing...I have everything I want and need."

And then there are some who give you a list.

I've heard some good stories this year about Christmas wish lists that I wanted to share.  I will disguise names for the sake of embarrassment.  You may know some of them...be one of them or better yet, want to use them.

2011 Christmas Wish List from a father to his sons:

Mom said trip to Hawaii would be nice

If you guys wanted to buy the coffee maker I could chip in. She wants the one that she was looking at in Wal Mart for $149.95 and the carousel for the coffee pouch was 29.95 - she needs both, I know you haven't seen it but I am sure the price will help you find it

She also mentioned a new pajama out there that looks like blue jeans

Or, her perfume - you know what that is I hope

Or, slippers - you better get the right ones or she'll ask you to take them back

I bet you can beat Wal Mart's prices at Best Buy or Costco. Love Dad

2011 Christmas request to a wife from her husband:

Husband (H):  Honey, what would you like for Christmas?

Wife (W):  I don't know, surprise me.

H:  Do you want something like a sweater?

W:  Why not something like lingerie?

H:  What kind?

W:  Please don't make me get online and show you.  Surprise me.

H:  Well, if you get online and show me and I pay for it...it would be a surprise.

2011 Christmas hint from a boyfriend to a girlfriend:

Boyfriend:  What do you want for Christmas this year?

Girlfriend:  I don't need anything.  What do you want for Christmas?

Boyfriend:  A new golf club.

Girlfriend:  What kind?

Boyfriend:  Wait a minute...scratch that, I'll get that myself however I can provide you with a list of other ideas.

Girlfriend:  That won't be needed, the elves will figure it out.

2011 Funny Christmas list from mother to her children:
1 Magenta colored crayon
4 marbles that are yellow inside
box of toothpicks
fuzzy bunny slippers
a Hot Wheels version of the Oscar Mayer wiener mobile

just add water instant underpants
a pad of post-it notes
a green highlighter
a 40 watt light bulb
wheat penny
peacock feather
Burger King crown
 

2012 Christmas Gift of the Month list to get you ready for next year:

January:  Join a case of beer of the month club 

February: Sign up for a wine of the month club

March:  Go online and click on Hawaiian flower of the month (deliver anywhere)

April:  Give a gourmet chocolate of the month club

May: A spa service once a month gift

June: Register for a quarterly sporting event or concert (football, basketball, Def Leppard)

July:  A get away of the month (cabins, beaches, B&Bs, camping)
August: The gift of a hobby (beginning classes in quilting, card making, photography)

September:  Order a book of the month

October: Deliver a cookie of the month

November: Sign up for an International newspaper or magazine delivery

December:  Decide never to do Christmas "wish" lists again

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year everyone.  Remember the reason for the season.  Peace to you and yours.

Barb, the tool girl, Richey

I got the house.  He got the tools.

While I was at my aunt and uncle's house over the Thanksgiving holiday, the dinner conversation was random.  It included the occasional political jabs, why don't you eat turkey talk and my story about locating the best ladder for my light bulb changing duties.  My uncle asked, "why don't you have a ladder?"  At which I point I said, "I am waiting for it to go on sale at Costco."  -- right, like things go on sale at Costco.  

It then became a "he said, she said" exchange:

He said, "Well, what kind of tools do you have?

I said, "Right now, I am in the market for them."

He said, "you don't have tools?"

I said, "I have a $19.95 set with pink handles that I purchased at the grocery store."

He said, "Are you scared of tools?"

I said, "Ahhh.  No."

He said, "Do you know how to use tools?"

I said, without being disrespectful, "Really unc, yes, I know how to use them.  Mark took them when we divorced."  Hence, my statement...I got the house.  He got the tools.

To know my uncle (my mom's brother) a bit, consider this: 

Unc is a 75 year old man with a passion for collecting vintage toy trucks (he actually has a company; Semi Trucks).  He doesn't believe in the Internet so he travels across the country with a trailer and sets up shop at small flea markets, toy shows and any random casino parking lot between here and Dubuque. My aunt enjoys the penny slots so she travels with him when she's not working part time at Shopko - I think that's how they support their travels or it may be a place for her to escape for a few hours.  They've been married thirty plus years. 

My uncle was a chip buyer for the local paper mill.  He retired fifteen years ago and has since taken up puttering.   He's made clocks.  He's constructed bathrooms.  He's built fences. He's taken on photography.  And,  boy does he have tools.  My grandpa's tools.  And, a few of his own.

I spent this morning with my uncle.  He put together a tool "box" for me.  It's my grandpa's tool box from long ago.  It's my starter set.  I am quite excited to watch it grow.  I hope to have a garage like my unc's one day (pictured above). In fact, he asked me if I wanted an air compressor.  Ha.  "No, thanks, not right now, let me think about that and get back to you."

 

Take Five - What is your life about

Please take five minutes and watch (and listen) to this video.  Thank you for sharing, Kelly.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MaYh-KN94Ko

Confessions

I've had wind storms for the past 7 days at my house.  I fear wind storms.  I realize that Mother Nature brings all of her glory with her when she arrives in the winter to the Pacific Northwest but wind storms?  I live on a bluff - not covered by much so I'm pretty sure I get the storms from Alaska (in eastern Washington).  In fact, when the wind hit 40 mph the other night, I felt like Dorothy and hello, I'm not in Kansas (and never have been). I will confess, I have the red heels.

Actually, this post isn't about my fears.  It is about my secret confession to be a beauty salon owner and stylist.  

It might have started when I was five years old.  I would comb my mom's hair.  I would comb my grandpa's hair and I would comb my own hair.  For hours.

A year before my grandma passed away, I would go to the care center once a week and either style or trim her hair.  I know I loved it more than she did. 

And don't kid yourself, women, you know who you are...you pick up a pair of tweezers or grooming shears and love to cut back those ear hairs and those nose hairs on your favorite partner.  Or, better yet, a straight edge disposable razor and remove the long stragglers on the neck line.

About ten years ago, my husband at the time (poor Mark, I'm sure that's one more reason why we aren't married now) had a mullet going on.  It was going to be weeks before he could get a haircut.  I said, "I can do it, we have a #2."  He was such an agreeable man. 

He sat down on the chair and I turned on the razor.  "Now, Barb, all you have to do is go from front to back."  

"OK," with excitement in my eyes.

It seemed to be going quite well until I realized I had turned the razor upside down.  Yikes.  I think he could see the fear in my eyes when I attempted to comb over the existing hair with the bald spot that I had just created.  "Um, you may have to take over."

He got up from the chair and looked in the mirror.  He agreed.  A comb over wasn't going to do the trick.  

Mark was bald that summer.   PS, We are still great friends despite the comb over (I mean, the break up).  

My mom and I have a special relationship.  Since I am a limited edition (and she is thankful every day she only had one of me), my mom and I spend quite a bit of time together.  On Thanksgiving, I noticed that she looked a bit tired (and whenever someone says you look tired...it's not a good thing) and her hair hadn't been primped in awhile (the entire family goes to the same hairdresser, Steve).  Another confession, I have cut my own hair in the past and I've seen other hairdressers - and don't kid yourself...you have too.

I texted my mom Friday (I love that my mom texts) and told her I had a surprise for her and I would meet her at my house after work.  

When she arrived later that day, I had a box of hair color laying on the table (an auburn/medium brown), makeup and calming lotion (yes, they make it).  

My mom is shy.  She gazed at the table full of beauty products. "What are we doing tonight?"  I said, "I think you need a pick me up."  

And she said in her polite manner, "I think you may need a pick me up."

She was right and I confess,  I did.  I put on my apron and went to town...on her hair. 

 

BEFORE

AFTER

Commence. A week of Thanksgiving around the world

Thanksgiving in North America had originated from a mix of European and Native traditions. Typically in Europe, festivals were held before and after the harvest cycles to give thanks for a good harvest and to rejoice together after much hard work with the rest of the community. 

At the time, Native Americans had also celebrated the end of a harvest season. When Europeans first arrived to the Americas, they brought with them their own harvest festival traditions from Europe, celebrating their safe voyage, peace and good harvest.

The origin of the first Thanksgiving in Canada goes back to the explorer, Martin Frobisher, who had been trying to find a northern passage to the Pacific Ocean. Frobisher's Thanksgiving celebration was not for harvest, but in thanks for surviving the long journey from England through the perils of storms and icebergs. 

Most days, I wake up and ask myself, "what am I thankful for today?" There are about seven items that come to mind:

1. My health

2. My family and friends

3. My job

4. My faith

5. Frankie and Cooper

6. My home (when I don't have to shovel snow)

7. Peace (at least in my little neck of the world)

At this time of year there are seven other items I am thankful for:

1. I don't eat turkey

2. I'm not a turkey

3. I am not a sitting member of the Super Committee

4  My aunt called and said she is making turkey and I am invited to her house

5. I have the day off

6. I am working on Black Friday

And number 7.  I don't eat tofurkey nor have I ever eaten tofurkey.

Please take time and express your gratitude this week and let the Thanksgiving festivities commence. 

Buying a car...Barb style

Did I need a new car?

No.

Did I want to help stimulate our economy?

That is the answer I am sticking with.

I set out to test drive a few cars.  Normally, I would find one that I adore and sign the papers but this time I was going to be adult about it and take a few for a test drive.

Luckily, I know a few fine folks at Foothills Lincoln Mazda in Spokane and they let me take a few cars for a few days and I was able to really test drive them.

First one, a Lincoln MKX.  Very pretty.  A 2008 black beauty. 

Second one, a Mazda CX9.  Very sporty.  A 2011 black beauty.  (Do you see a pattern)

I love SUVs but when I asked my dear friends about these two cars I received several comments:  You realize Lincolns are for old people?  The piping on the inside looks like a race car.  This is big...are you sure you can parallel park it.  Why do you need seven seats? And finally, one of the best, why get a new car anyway...your car is only two years old?

So, the real question...why do I need a new car? 

People take lots of pride in driving up in their brand new vehicle, but all too often people purchase cars that they can’t afford.  They do it more for image, status, and pure ego.  In the long run what they end up doing is robbing themselves of savings.  The first thing a person needs to ask is: Why Do I Think I Need A New Car?

• My car is too old
• My car is too ugly
• My car is about to break down
• The repairs are costing too much
• I need dependability
• I’ve had this car too long
• I don’t want it to depreciate much more

And the list goes on.  I've heard a lot of silly reasons as well, but it is usually because the person is saying anything they can to get into a new car.  Bottom line, I had 60,000 miles on my car.  I didn't need a new car at all.  I wanted one.

So, my third test drive.  A 2011 Silver Metallic Mazda CX7.  A bit smaller, bug deflector (very important), a Yakima rack (for what I am not sure) and a hitch for my bike rack (the most important thing).  Actually, that is coming...the rack needs to be put on.  See...it wasn't a perfect car.  However, it has a camera for my rear driving that I do (I try to stay away from that), blue tooth (which actually echoes and sounds like I am in a gas chamber and bun warmers.  

Done.  Purchased.  Who says "third time isn't a charm?"

I am a new owner of a new car.  I love America. Oh, that's right Ford sold Mazda. Or, did they?

Amidst the world financial crisis in the fall of 2008, reports emerged that Ford was contemplating a sale of its stake in Mazda as a way of streamlining its asset base. BusinessWeek explained the alliance between Ford and Mazda has been a very successful one, with Mazda saving perhaps $90 million a year in development costs and Ford "several times" that, and that a sale of its stake in Mazda would be a desperate measure. On November 18, 2008, Ford announced that it would be selling a 20% stake in Mazda, bringing its stake to 13.4%, and surrendering control of the company. The following day, Mazda announced that, as part of the deal, it was buying back 6.8% of its shares from Ford. It was also reported that Hisakazu Imaki would be stepping down as chief executive, to be replaced by Takashi Yamanouchi. On November 18, 2010, Ford reduced their stake further to just 3%, citing the reduction of ownership would allow greater flexibility to pursue growth in emerging markets. Ford and Mazda remain strategic partners through joint ventures and exchanges of technological information. Nice work guys.

Music Lessons

I love to sing.  I sing in the shower.  I sing in the car.  I sing at the gym. I sing in the grocery store.  I tend to make up lyrics and often times words and my beat and rhythm are spot on...in my mind. 

Actually, my mom asks me quite a bit if I flunked choir in high school.  I started singing in elementary school - I believe it was mandatory.  You know, the recitals and the plays?  Remember, the Christmas pageants and spring concerts?

I participated in all of them from elementary school to junior high and on into high school, I learned tons of songs.  The one's I remember the most were, "Frosty the Snowman" and "Edelweiss." Yes, I learned a pleothra of music however I didn't quite have the pipes for the Spokane Children's Choir (actually had to bow out and become a board member) nor did I try or get accepted to Juilliard School of Dance, Drama and Music however I do love to sing.  (By the way, I always wanted to be a soprano...but I am not...I am a proud alto). 

My father played the piano.  He was good.  My mom played the piano.  She was good.  

I took lessons.  I wasn't too good.  In fact, my piano teacher said I should try a new instrument. 

So, I picked up a piccolo. It was a bit embarrassing at the time. (PS, I still have it).  

Now that I am older, I find that it shouldn't of been embarrassing at all.  Heck, the piccolo (Italian for small) is a half-size flute, and a member of the woodwind family of musical instruments. The piccolo has the same fingerings as its larger sibling, the standard transverse flute, but the sound it produces is an octave higher than written. This gave rise to the name "ottavino," the name by which the instrument is referred to in the scores of Italian composers. John Philip Sousa wrote the famous solo in the final repeat of the closing section (trio) of his march "The Stars and Stripes Forever."

For those of you who know me, I have quite a bit of air.  In junior high, I picked up the trumpet and decided to give it a whirl.  It wasn't the saxophone...which is the "coolest" of the horns but it appeared to be lighter for me to carry/hold.  I played in the city band.  Yes, everyone, the city band.  

I was proud to play the trumpet (I don't have it anymore).  The trumpet is the musical instrument with the highest register in the brass family. Trumpets are among the oldest musical instruments, dating back to at least 1500 BCE. 

So, why do I tell you about my music lessons?  I think everyone should try one or two.  Why?  

Music brings people together.  It allows us to experience emotions.  And, above all music gives us soul.  

Music leads to singing, dancing and eating.  

It brings spirit to the world.