Have you every said to yourself, “Self.  I wish I had sometime to myself.  Extend periods of quiet where I just get to unplug and not be bugged by anyone or anything!”

Be careful what you wish for….

Guess what happens when torrential rains and 70+ mph straight line winds blow through on a quiet morning?  This happens.

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And this.

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I do believe that those two pieces of the pole should still be connected.

And if your extra, super-duper lucky, like myself, you not only lose power but your cable/internet/phone line rides out the storm here.

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Yeah, I’m pretty sure that in order for my house to have access to the outside world, that still needs to be connected to the pole.

Oh well, I will use this time to get all those little things done that I’m always saying I am going to do but never get around to doing.

Clean up downed tree branches – check

Pull weeds in garden – check

Water yard –  Hahahaha

Do laundry – Oops, can’t 🙂

Vacuum – No can do

Clean the Oven – Yeah right, like I’d do that anyway!

I know.  I can read that book I checked out from the library.

This is awesome.  I’m sitting on the couch in the middle of the day reading!

The house is so quiet.  Maybe too quiet.  Stop it.  Get back to the book.

This book is boring.  I know.  I’ll just pop online and find something interesting to download.

Crap, No I won’t.

This quiet is just so….. quiet.  I mean I think it’s screaming QUIET at me.

Is this really what I’m always nagging about wanting?

This sucks.

So I did what any reasonable adult would do.

I packed up all my beloved, useless electronics and drove to Panera where, for the price of a soda, we enjoyed lights, air conditioning, internet and unlimited refills.

I may have overstayed my welcome, but I left with more than $3.57 worth of soda in our bloated bellies, a newly downloaded Kristin Hannah read, and enough stockpiled ‘juice’ to keep my screens glowing at home, hopefully.



Mad Man

He’s at is again Ladies and Gentlemen….

My husband has begun watching Mad Men and has morphed into a Don Draper-eske persona, minus the cigarettes.  His shortsighted attempts at humor via this 60s, sexist back drop, sets the stage for this blog.

Peter – “Why can’t you been more like.  Mrs. Draper?”

Me – “What?”

Peter – “Don Draper’s wife from Mad Men.  That was when things were done right.  Women were there to serve their men.  They met them at the door with the paper and their slippers.  Dinner was hot, ready, and on the table.  After they served their men, they cleaned up and kept the kids quiet while the men relaxed on the couch, feet up, for some TV.”

Me – Blank stare

Peter (continuing) – “They knew their place.  They were there to serve their men, get them whatever they wanted.  They didn’t just do things.  They asked permission, ‘Let me ask my husband if this is ok.'”

Me – Jaw drops

Peter – “I’m to be treated like a king.  The minute I get home, you should be at my beckon call, to satisfy my every whim.”

Me – “Oh Darling, I would love to be your beckon call, serving your every whim, presenting you with a hot meal the minute you walk in the door, but I can’t because I at work earning the health insurance your going to need when you go to the ER for the broken leg you’re about to receive.”


History repeats itself

I am so sick of these political ads.  How sick you ask?  The other day on the way to work I VOLUNTARILY chose to listen to a One Direction song on a different station over my regular station because my regular station was playing endless political ads.  I’ve had enough!  Stop the ads already!  Tuesday cannot come fast enough for me.

Who is one direction you ask and why is listening to them such a shock?  Well One Direction is this generations boy band.  Every generation has one.  Take a look.

If you just screamed or drooled over that picture.  You’re a directioner, as die hard fans call themselves.  I should know.  I live with one.

Niall, Liam, Zayn, Harry, and Louis.  Five very young and according to my daughter, very hot, boys who sing those bubble gum pop songs all the girls love.  Now as much as I want to make fun of this girl and her bad, pre-teen taste in music, I can’t.  See, liking boy bands is in her genes.  If you look closely, you will see that my daughter is wearing the most awesome jacket in the whole universe.

Still haven’t figured it out?  Well this might help.

Oh oh oh oh oh, she has the right stuff on her.

Yup, my daughter is wearing a New Kids on the Block jacket, one I bought at a concert I attended in 2008.  Yes, I said 2008.  I am, and have been a NKOTB fan since the late 80s and I’m proud to admit it.  Donnie, Joe, Jordan, Jon, and Danny.  Donnie is my favorite.  (You had a favorite too, admit it.)  I had every poster, every pin, every album.  I listened their music endlessly, cut out every article I could find about them, and threw a tape in the VCR every time they were on TV. I was obsessed.  My walls were covered floor to ceiling with posters that I would stare at for hours.  I attended their concerts and even won an autographed T-Shirt from a local radio station in 1989.  Jealous yet?  I may or may not still have a pillow case of theirs hidden on my pillow at home.

I mean who wouldn’t love these guys.  Just look at them.




Well image it’s 1990 when you look at them.  See why I can’t tease my daughter!?!?!

I have to admit.  The New Kids on the Block may not be so young and new anymore, but time has definitely been very generous to these 40 somethings.  This is them today.

Um, yep.  Still looking good and Hangin’ Tough after all these years.  One Direction has nothing on my boys.

And Donnie Wahlberg, if you’re reading this, your still on my list of five.  😉


I’m not one of those crazy parents who counts minutes of screen time.  I don’t run a clock when my kids turn on the TV or play on their iPods.  But I will tell them, after they have had their eyes glued to a magic box for what I have deemed as long enough, that they need to put down the electronics and go do something else.  They’re used to my nagging, so they turn it off and go.

This morning, I went downstairs and saw my daughter playing with her Barbie’s.  I was so impressed!  It was early in the day.  She had made the choice to play first, instead of turning on the TV.  My heart was bursting with pride.

Then I heard it….the sounds of Nickelodeon’s H2O.  I did a double take.  The TV was off.  Where is that sound coming from???  Then I see it, my daughter’s iPod is on, the Netflix app is open, and she has on TV episodes.

“Really Paige?!?! You can’t just play with something?  You have to watch TV too?”

“I’m not watching TV.  That is the television for the Barbie’s.  They have a big screen.  The little girls are watching H2O!”

Well played Paige, well played.


Kids…. They are our pride and joy… the apples of our eyes… those dirty, stinky, noisy monsters that keep messing up our clean houses!

Now, don’t get me wrong, I love my dirty, stinky, noisy monsters, but, seriously, how many times do they have to make the same messes and hear me give the same lectures before they get it???

I have decided that in addition to constantly nagging them (because, let’s face it, I’m not going to stop nagging them), I am also keeping a list of their annoying, messy habits, so that, when they move out, I can visit their homes and provide the appropriate payback.

Here’s what I have so far…

Open the bread bag.  Make a sandwich.  Leave the dirty knife stuck to the counter.  Place open bread bag back on the fridge.  Drop and lose twist tie to close said bread bag, so that bread will go stale.

Get out Oreos.  Pour a glass of milk.  Take everything to the living room.  Dunk and eat Oreos over clean floor, leaving behind crumbs and a half glass of milk balancing on the edge of the coffee table.

Go outside.  Leave door wide open, yet slam shut screen door.  Every three and a half minutes, come in and go out, slamming the door every time.

Go downstairs to get something (I don’t know what yet.  I’ll wing it.)  Turn on every light switch I can find, even ones not in the area I’m going, them come back upstairs, leaving all the lights on.  I might even add in turning on a TV for good measure.

Take a bath using WAY more soap than I need and filling the now half empty bottle back up with water to make it look like I didn’t use that much.  Step out of tub and soak bath mat.  Walk down the hallway with a towel around me, but not having really dried off, so as to leave a slippery trail behind me.  Leave dirty clothes, a tub full of water, and a “surprise” in the toilet for them to find later.  Get dressed and drop my wet towel on the carpet.

It’s going to be so much fun!