Deduct THIS!

It's been a long and busy week at the Roadtrip. And in some ways, it's been one of those weeks. It seemed like every time I started to do one thing, I'd get distracted by something else so nothing got finished. That meant a lot of time catching up on stuff at home instead of at work.

Things were better yesterday though. I spent half the day working at home, then headed into the office for a little while before going to a meeting. So far, so good. The meeting ended early and I headed home instead of going back to the office. Did a little more work at home, then actually cooked dinner. Real food. The oven was even involved. (I know - scary!)

Redneck got here after he got done working - about 8:00. He ate, then I got the kitchen cleaned up, and settled onto the couch to read for a little while before going to bed at a decent hour.

Now, in the sentence above, which statement is FALSE?



If you guessed "going to bed at a decent hour", you would be CORRECT!!!

It was about 10:00 and I was a little sleepy and just thinking that it was definitely time for pajamas and bed. I fiddled around for a few more minutes, yawning and just on verge of getting up and moving when Redneck said:

"Hey, where did you say to do taxes online?"

All I could think was - you're kidding, right? You're not really going to do your taxes RIGHT NOW, are you?

He finally chose a website, then got frustrated over creating a suitably unique password that included both uppercase letters and numbers. I fixed it.

Then he didn't have Skaterboy's social security number. He had to get up, parking the laptop in my lap while he went to get his wallet.

Now, bear in mind - the website gave a list of documents that you would need in order to complete your taxes. He read the list. I double-checked to make sure he knew where his 2007 tax form was because he would need it for the AGI number.

A few minutes later, he shoved the computer back at me while he went to retrieve his W-2s from the bedroom.

I know what you're thinking, Patient Reader. "Roadchick, why didn't you just get up and go to bed?" And if you are, you either: a) have your taxes done by a professional, or b) have never watched a man do taxes before, or c) are a man.

I knew there was going to be frustration going on. This is the first year that Redneck was going to do his own taxes instead of paying a service a lot of money to essentially fill out the form that's available for free online. He doesn't have any tricky tax situations that would require professional intervention.

I took over the process when the W-2s were retrieved. I added those in, moved on, went through deductions and all the other stuff. Clickity, clickity, clickity. No big deal - I've been doing my own taxes for years.

Now it's time to actually efile. I need the AGI. Redneck has been retrieving paperwork like an archivist at the Smithsonian and apparently his job is wearing thin. I asked him for his 2007 tax form to verify his exemptions and get the AGI.

There was a heavy sigh from his end of the couch and he hauled himself up again, went out to his truck and came back in with an envelope. He pulled out a stack of paper and started going through it page by page. I don't know what he was looking for, because I hadn't told him what I was looking for. This went on for a few minutes before I finally asked him to just give me the packet.

Him: Wait a minute.
Me: It's almost midnight. I have to get up at 5:00. Give me the packet so I can get this finished.
Him, offended now: Go to bed. I'll do this.
Me: You don't even know why I want that and YOU'RE going to do this. Give me the packet.
Him: Well, you're in a bad mood.

You'll be proud to know that I did not kill him. He handed over the packet and a few minutes later, everything was finished and submitted and accepted and all that good stuff.

I started to tell him that in a day or two, he'll have to go back to the place online where the taxes were done and make sure that all was good. He would need his passwords. That was when he wandered off.

Since he was just through the doorway in the kitchen, I kept talking. (I know. Don't even say it.) Then he wandered into the dining room and I knew it was hopeless. I waited for him to come back and started over. He looked at me like I was speaking in tongues. None of it was getting through. Passwords? What passwords? Taxes? Huh?

I gave up and wrote down his username and passwords then went to bed. I'm a little tired this morning. I didn't sleep well. He, on the other hand, slept like a baby, secure in the knowledge that his taxes are done for the year and his refund will be on the way shortly.

All I can say is - he better spend it on me.

And The Award Goes To. . . Roadchick!

***This award is bestowed upon a fellow blogger whose blog’s content or design is, in the giver’s opinion, Brilliant.

This award was given to me by Sunshine Jones! Bless her heart, she wants to write just like me when she grows up. Talk about bad influences and hanging out behind the gym, smoking cigarettes!!! Seriously though, I am honored that she enjoys the Roadtrip. It means a lot to know that people are reading and having a reaction to what I've posted.

The rules:

When accepting this auspicious award, you must write a post bragging about it, including the name of the misguided soul who thinks you deserve such acclaim, and link back to said person so everyone knows he or she is real.

Choose a minimum of 7 blogs that you find brilliant in content or design. Or improvise by including bloggers who have no idea who you are because you don’t have 7 friends. Show the 7 random victims’ names and links and leave a harassing comment informing them that they were prized with “Honest Weblog.” Well, there’s no prize, but they can keep the nifty icon. List at least ten honest things about yourself. Then, pass it on!

Ten Honest Things:
1. I am seriously OCD - not in the repeated handwashing way, but in the attention to detail and a near photographic memory.
2. Must. Have. Coffee. In. The. Morning. Do not speak until the coffee consumption has begun.
3. I'm a dedicated list-maker. I have a notebook full of lists. Things to do, things to read, things to buy.
4. I don't like people to watch me eating a snack. A meal is ok, but snacks seem shameful somehow.
5. I never in a million years imagined that this is where my life would take me. I imagined fame, for some reason. For what, I don't know.
6. I'd rather be at home than almost anywhere in the world.
7. I get very annoyed when people don't put their dirty dishes in the dishwasher.
8. I sing along with the radio or a CD while driving in the car. I ignore the funny looks I get.
9. The older I get, the less I care what people think about me. (See #8)
10. It's hard to come up with 10 honest things. Maybe I'm boring. Or secretive.

_________________________________________



And. . . The Proximity Award was given to me by Autrice.

Again, I am very honored. I've been reading Autrice for years and her posts never fail to entertain or make me think. She can be wickedly funny but is not afraid to write posts that are touching and heart-felt. I admire that. I don't know that I'm brave enough to do that. If I can't be funny, I stay silent, for the most part.

Blogs who receive this award are 'exceedingly charming'. This blog invests and believes in the PROXIMITY-nearness in space, time and relationships. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in prizes or self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers!

“Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award. According to the rules, you must mention eight more bloggers with whom you wish to share this.

And now, the nominees (who are being nominated for both awards because they deserve them so you should definitely check them out) in no particular order:

*Heather
*Knit Witch
*Ann & Kay
*Marinka
*Marla
*Susan
*Lindsay
*Franklin

I wanted to get those awards posted and do my nominations but a regular post is going to have to wait. I've got a ton of stuff to finish up for work and the end of the month is looming.

I'm Going In

In a minute, I'm going to get up from my very comfortable spot on the couch, get dressed in something WARM, and go out to brave my garage.

Why?

Because tomorrow, the garage door guys are coming to replace the dreaded torsion spring.

Actually, my garage isn't too bad, but it's not too good, either. I've been getting ready for a helluva yard sale, and as I've gone through stuff, it's been packed into boxes and dumped in the garage. The boxes line one wall pretty completely and they are not the neat, tidy stack of boxes that I started out with, mainly because I suspect Rockboy has been rummaging to see what was in them.

Because they block one wall, I'm also a little concerned that the garage door guys may not be able to get to everything they need to since there's a lot of S P R E A D at the base of the pile.

And, on that side wall, there is a regular door to the outside. It's blocked by boxes and piles of crap. But, if it rains really hard and the wind is howling, water comes through the bottom of that door and makes a huge mess and gets boxes wet, etc.

So, I've re-thought the whole thing and am going to re-arrange everything and tidy it up.

I really didn't worry too much about it because the car has always fit in there, but now seems to be the time to get a handle on this mess.

It's been an interesting month, home-repair-wise.

Let's review the list:
* Broken torsion spring on the garage door
* Washing machine making funny noise (diagnosed by the way - I need a new agitator)
* Broken water supply line on the fridge, leaking water trashing hardwood floor

***NEW ADDITION: When I came home on Thursday night (the COLDEST night of the year), I thought, hey, it's a little chilly in here, I'm going to turn up the heat just a little. When I nudged the thermostat up, nothing happened. I kept nudging. Nothing kept happening. Then I looked at the thermometer, to see what the temperature actually was.

It was about 56 degrees in the house.

No wonder it was a little chilly. And the heat wouldn't kick on.

I flipped the breaker in the garage (which meant scaling a pile of boxes - part of the inspiration to DO something about that flea market out there).

It didn't help.

Sigh.

I went next door to my neighbor's house, since I had seen him rummaging around in HIS garage.

He said he'd look at it and see if he could figure out what was going on. He came. He looked. He offered to call a friend with a HVAC business. I told him to call. It was too damn cold to fool around.

The man finally came, clomped upstairs to the attic, fiddled around for a few minutes, pulled out some metal stick-looking thing, wiped it off, scraped it with his knife, wiped it off again, and stuck it back in.

The verdict: Dirty flame sensor.

The cost: $90.00

A value, since I was FREEZING, but wow - $90.00

I asked about the price. He said that it's for the service call and first hour of service, new parts not included.

I mentioned that he hadn't been here an hour yet and asked him to vacuum the living room.

He politely declined, took his check, and left.

(That's probably best, since he was young and reasonably cute, because the next thing I was going to say was, "For $90.00, you better get up on that coffee table and dance.")

I called my neighbors to let them know we had heat again. This time I was talking to the wife. She was glad the heat was running and said that when she came home from the grocery store, she pushed the garage door opener remote (not realizing that hubby was in the garage with the door already up) and the door started to go down, then gathered speed and slammed shut. Now it wouldn't go up again.

A little lightbulb went off.

I told her how to check it: pull the emergency release cord. If the door feels like it weighs 400 pounds (and it does) and you can't move it, your torsion spring has broken.

Voila.

But, my neighbor came up with a creative solution. She publishes a local home magazine that you can pick up for free all over town. She sells a LOT of advertising.

She called up a garage door company and offered to trade them ad space in exchange for fixing the garage doors.

Hers AND mine.

For free.

As in, no money.

Since I diagnosed the problem.

And, in exchange, I owe them a dinner (home-cooked) and the use of Rockboy as a slave.

Sounds like a deal to me.

I just haven't mentioned it to Rockboy yet.

Adventures in Home Ownership

It all started a couple of weeks ago.

Redneck and I came back from running errands and he pushed the garage door opener button. The door went up about 8 inches, then stopped.

He did this a couple of times before I decided that he didn't know what he was doing and took the remote away from him. Amazingly, it did not work any better for me.

I went in through the front door and looked into the garage. What I saw was the cables from the garage door draped over the garbage cans in graceful coils. What Redneck saw was the torsion spring over the garage door had snapped. Then I saw dollar signs dancing in front of my eyes from how much it was going to cost to get that fixed.

Between the two of us, we heaved the garage door up (they weigh about 400 pounds for a two-car garage door) and he stood there like a statue while I backed my car out.

It went on the list. Fix garage door.

On Friday evening, I decided to get some laundry done before Redneck came over after work. I threw everything in and wandered off to do something else. A few minutes later, I tuned back into the washer because it was making a funny noise. Crap. It was still working, but didn't sound right.

It was added to my mental list while the wet stuff went into the dryer.

Redneck came in a little while later and we left to get something to eat. When we came back, I was walking through the kitchen and saw a puddle of water on the hardwood floor. I immediately knew what had happened. I screeched and grabbed towels and dropped them on the floor.

Redneck came running and saw the problem too.

The water supply that feeds the ice maker and water-in-the-door on the fridge had broken.

Crap.

We pulled the fridge away from the wall and started mopping up the mess. He turned the water off at the wall and disconnected everything so it wouldn't keep dripping on the floor. We mopped some more. We found Speedbump's 4367 scrunchies that keep disappearing. (She LOVES to play with them, especially fetch, if you shoot it for her.)

After all the water was off the floor, we took a good look at it. Not good.

The next day, Redneck headed to Lowe's to get copper line to replace the broken plastic line. I headed for the phone to call the floor dude.

The floor dude said that he would come over on Tuesday and look at the floor. I called my dad and he said he would meet the floor dude here and see what he had to say.

The floor dude was here yesterday and said that he'd give it about three months because sometimes the flooring will dry out and the floor will go back to the way it was supposed to be. The polyurethane was not stripped off, so if the floor would cooperate, it might be ok if we did nothing. If it's not ok in three months, then we'd look at replacing the warped sections. Call your insurance company and let them know that you might have a claim in three months.

Dad and floor dude finished up and headed out. Dad locked the front door behind himself. Then he turned around and locked the deadbolt. (Dad's a big believer in security and locking locks that were meant to be locked. Me, not so much. I'm lazy and usually have to pee in a hurry when I get home so I just lock the doorknob.)

I got home later than usual last night so it was dark. It was also freezing cold. And I had to pee.

I knew that the damn deadbolt would be locked, so I unlocked the doorknob and then spent precious minutes playing hunt-and-poke with the key, trying to get it into the deadbolt. I finally got the key in there and tried to turn it. Nothing. Ok, maybe it goes the other way. It turned, but did not unlock the deadbolt.

By now, I'm whimpering with cold and pee, and dropped my bags and purse on the front porch to seriously wrestle with the stupid key. It. Would. Not. Turn.

I left everything on the porch and headed for the back door, praying that I had not locked the screen door, but thinking I probably had.

I had.

Thinking fast, I headed down the steps from the deck, dragging one of the patio chairs with me.

Rockboy is not known for his diligence in home security and I was hoping this was one of those times. Oh PLEASE let his window be unlocked.

I shoved the chair up against the house and climbed up, praying the whole time: for the window to be open, to not pee my pants, to not break my body when I launched through the window. . .

It was unlocked.

I pushed the window up, chased Speedbump away from the open window and dropped into the room with the grace of a drunk koala bear. Slammed the window closed and ran as fast as I could with my legs pressed together for the bathroom.

It was close, but I made it.

I tried to unlock the deadbolt from inside with my key (it's keyed on both sides because there is a huge glass window in the door although I don't know what the difference is - if you break the window, why would you need to unlock the door? Just step in through the window.) The key still would not turn.

I gave up and went out through the back door, around the house, and hauled all my crap in from the front porch and driveway.

I tried the lock again. It opened (unwillingly) this time.

I've gotta get that garage door fixed.

No, Really

Yes, Patient Reader, I do know that it is January and the holidays have been over for a little while.

But, see, I forgot to tell y'all this, what with being so outraged about Redneck's "your roots are showing" comment.

We unwrap our presents to each other on Christmas Eve. Rockboy and Skaterboy are there as well.

Redneck, bless his heart, has gotten me exactly what I wanted and had been dropping very obvious hints for during the past 5 weeks. He got me a Nintendo DS. He got me a little carrying case. He got me games. He did good.

I was sloooowly unwrapping the DS, stretching it out, because present-opening time never lasts long enough. (I personally think it should last for HOURS.)

I finally get the paper off and I'm smiling and saying thank you. I'm reaching for the next package . . . and then it happens.

Skaterboy is watching since he's ripped through his pile of loot in 3.2 seconds.

He looks up at me and says, "Daddy was playing with that the other day."

At this point, Redneck gets a guilty look on his face.

Skaterboy continues, "He got it out from under the tree, unwrapped it, unwrapped one of the games, opened it, played with it for a really long time, then put that stuff back into the boxes and re-wrapped them and stuck them back under the tree."

Me: stunned silence.

Redneck: You would never have known that if Skaterboy hadn't told you.

Me: Um, yes I would have. The game would be out of its shrinkwrap.

Redneck: You wouldn't have noticed that.

Later on, it's finally a little quiet and I can play with my new toy. I stick the unwrapped game in and turn it on. My name came up as the player.

I leaned over and showed it to Redneck.

"I may not have noticed that the game wasn't shrinkwrapped, but I think I would've noticed that apparently, my DS is psychic and knows it's me."

"At least I put YOUR name in and not mine."

"You're right. That totally makes it ok."

(And actually, it was ok, but still very funny. Especially since he got caught.)

Music Wars

For Christmas, I bought Skaterboy an iPod Shuffle. He's 10. He's been wanting a MP3 player for ages and I figured that I would get one that I actually know how to operate. (Or that Rockboy knows how to operate.) Skaterboy has another MP3 player that his grandma found at a yard sale but no one could figure out how to get any music onto the stupid thing and the directions were written in Chinese.

Skaterboy opened his gifts here Christmas Eve and was excited about the iPod. Rockboy told him that if he wrote a list of the music he wanted, he would get it set up. Skaterboy wrote a list, left the iPod, and departed for his granny's house.

Late that night, Rockboy came home and looked at the list. He came and woke Redneck and me up, muttering and grumbling.

Who, he wanted to know, had told Skaterboy about this band. Did we know what this band was like? Totally inappropriate. And as for that 'Lollipop' song by Li'l Wayne - were we aware that it was about oral sex? And WAS THIS APPROPRIATE MUSIC FOR A 10 YEAR OLD???

He wandered off again, still grumbling and muttering, but I did hear him say:

"He'll get what I give him. He won't know the difference anyway. And if he doesn't like it, too bad."

Rockboy filled up the iPod shuffle without spending a dime on iTunes - he used his extensive collection of CDs, put a huge variety of music on there, and to be honest, I have heard no complaints from Skaterboy. He, apparently, does not know the difference.

I had to laugh. About 7 years ago, Rockboy and I were having that exact same conversation about bands that I felt he was too young to listen to at that point. We had arguments. We had screaming matches. We had a face to face showdown that would've put old-time gunslingers to shame. He SWORE he would NEVER treat HIS child like that.

All I've got to say is - how ya like me now?

New Year, New You

This post is for the ladies. Gentlemen, move along. Trust me.

I learned something today. You would think that having reached nearly 40 (good God!) years of age, I would've figured out some basic things by now.

For the past few days, I've been really dissatisfied with how I look. I'm not usually too hung up about those things, but you know how it is when you want a haircut and don't know what you want done, and you really need to touch up your haircolor, but should you keep it the same or change - go lighter or darker or a completely different color. . .

I try to wear make-up on the days that I'm working, especially if I have visits or meetings or if I'm going to work in the office instead of at home. I feel better if I wear make-up. It is a positive thing for me. (No, I don't have to put on full make-up to run to the store to get milk or go to the mailbox. I'm not a junkie.)

Lately, I haven't been happy with my make-up. It's the same stuff I've been using for ages, but somehow, all of a sudden, nothing looked right to me.

I'd go through the whole routine (plus moisturizing - this is new) and then at the end, I'd think: I look like hell.

So, last night, I went to Walgreens for a few odds and ends and wandered the make-up aisle for a good 15 minutes. I came home with a couple new eyeliners and a couple new eyeshadow sets. (Revlon was buy 1, get 1 free!)

This morning, I tried out my new stuff and I was a little happier with how I looked, but still . . . not quite.

This afternoon, I stopped at CVS for odds and ends that I forgot at Walgreens last night and yes, you guessed it, I wound up in the make-up section.

And there, I had a revelation.

Loreal (and every other company out there) has come up with a system to simplify coordinating your make-up. But Loreal had this little card hanging there, next to the foundation. It was printed on clear plastic and you hold it above your wrist and the color that you CAN'T see against your wrist is the foundation color that is best for you. Amazing.

Not only that, but the little card also had three different categories of color: warm, neutral, and cool.

For years (and I mean YEARS) I have been buying warm-toned make-up when I am, in fact, a cool skin tone person.

I bought new foundation and blush and concealer and powder and hurried home with my new treasures. I couldn't stand it - as soon as I got home, I washed my face and started over with the new make-up.

It was amazing. I no longer look like the walking dead or like I need to wash my face because I look vaguely grimy or like someone smacked me in the eye.

RUN (or drive really fast) to CVS or Walgreens or somewhere like that and check out the little card thing and find out if you're using the right colors for you.

If you are - good for you. If you're not - join the club. And if you're a warm and have been buying cool colors, let's trade. I've got a bunch of stuff that I can't use.
______________________________________
ETA: Last night, when Redneck got to my house, we went to Waffle House (because we really know how to get wild with the New Year's festivities. While we were sitting there in the fluorescent glow, Redneck looked over at me and said: You look tired. Your eyes are red.

I'm going to (deep breath) assume that the make-up did not have anything to do with this because I was tired, I haven't been sleeping, and I'm so stressed out I could almost levitate. My eyes were red, from lack of sleep.

This morning, he rolled over and looked at me and reminded me that I need to do something about my roots. Since when did he become my personal beauty nag?

Happy New Year, y'all. I'm off to "do something about those roots".

The Year in Review

I'm totally stealing this idea from Autrice. Go visit her HERE.

Autrice says, "Annie is too clever for my own good. She found this fabulous idea for reviewing our year. "You simply write the first line of the first post of each month. Include a picture if you like and, voila, you have your year in review." Visit There is no place like home. You can also share it at My Romantic Home, which Annie found as well."

(Since I'm that lazy, I even stole the explanation of how to do this but I was much to lazy to do all the linking to Annie, There Is No Place Like Home, or My Romantic Home. If you're interested [and you should be] visit Autrice and make free and liberal use of her linking abilities!)

Roadchick's 2008

January

Over the Festive Season, the 'chick's laptop had a little accident - it wound up on the hardwood floor.

February


After a long stretch of hibernating, the 'chick finally left the house and did some shopping this weekend.

March


If it weren't for bad luck, the 'chick would have no luck at all.

April


Blogging can be very interesting sometimes.

May


Y'all, it's been Thursday for four days.

June


Redneck has informed the 'chick that this weekend, they will be going camping.

July


Sigh.

It's a holiday weekend which means the 'chick was released from work early, at 1:00.

August



If you look to the right, you will see that the 'chick has added a link to something called Roadchick Reviews.


September


It's September, isn't it?

October

I've been silent for a while now, and it's not that I've forgotten to write although I have been busy.


November

I have managed to catch a cold.

December


Hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving!
____________________________

In conclusion, all I can say is: I'm sorry that I have had such a lame-sounding year and that really, I am more interesting than this recap would prove.

Anyway - Happy New Year, y'all. Have fun and be safe!

See you in 2009!

Get It Together!

THIS:

is what I should be working on, and should've been working on all through the holiday week. (No, that's not really my desk. But it feels like it could be.)

THIS:

is what has captured my attention since Christmas Eve and has turned my brain into a great big pile of video-induced haze.

Three days to work this week.

Seven days until the state shows up.

One (at least one, until I check the mail today) report to do for the after-work job.

One Christmas tree to take down and pack away until next year.

One dishwasherful of clean dishes, waiting to be put away.

One sinkful of dishes, waiting for their turn in the dishwasher.

One garage door with a broken torsion spring to be replaced, involving (hopefully) one trip up a ladder to measure the broken spring to order replacement parts.

One more minute to say - Christmas was good, sorry it's over (have I EVER said that before???), no idea of New Year's Eve plans - it may be a movie on DVD in pajamas, which would probably be ok with Redneck.

I'll post when I get a minute - and if it's later rather than sooner - HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Sooper Sekrit Recipes!

Moving right along. . .

I'm baking. I cannot even believe how much that little trip to the grocery store cost. (A LOT. No, more than that. More. A little higher.)

So far, I've made a fudge pie for Redneck, to take to his mama's on Christmas Eve. One batch of fudge (with nuts in) and will make one more without nuts.

Fudge by Paul (a former co-worker)
12 oz. semi-sweet chocolate chips
1 cup milk chocolate chips
1 - 14 oz. can sweetened condensed milk
2 Tbsp. milk
1 tsp. vanilla
1/2 cup pecan pieces

Over low heat, melt chips in milk & condensed milk (stir it. a lot.) When completely melted, remove from heat and add vanilla and pecans. Spread in a lightly greased 9x9 pan. Chill for at least 3 hours.

***Instead of greasing the 9x9 pan, I lined it with the non-stick foil. Easy to flip out of the pan, and NO WASHING UP to do. I recommend this method. ***

I'm trying a bread recipe that might be similar to this bread that my grandma used to make when I was little. No one ever got the recipe because there wasn't one. My mom tried and my grandma told her something like: about this much flour, a pinch of this, a few pinches of that. . . while I could've probably figured it out, my mom didn't even bother writing anything down since she's not big on baking (or cooking).

The bread should be almost done rising. Hopefully. If not, then I don't know what I'm going to do with it.

Then, I've got to make the cookies that guarantee my admittance into the house on Christmas. Russian Tea Cakes with Hershey Kisses inside.

Russian Teacakes by Roadchick

1 cup soft butter
1 tsp. vanilla
1/2 cup sifter confectioner's sugar

Mix first three ingredients thoroughly.

Sift together, then stir into the top three ingredients:
2 & 1/4 cups sifted flour
1/4 tsp. salt

Then add:
3/4 cups finely chopped nuts (pecans or walnuts, but pecans are better)

Chill the dough.

Unwrap about a bazillion Hershey Kisses. Don't eat all of them or you'll be sick.

When the dough is cold, mold it around each kiss. Place on an ungreased cookie sheet. Bake at 400 degrees for 10 - 12 minutes until set but not brown. Let cool for a few minutes, but while still warm, roll in confectioner's sugar. Let cool completely, then roll in confectioner's sugar again.

Eat a lot of them, with milk. Yum!

I have a feeling it's going to be crazy around here for the next few days, so Merry Christmas! And remember - he sees you when you're sleeping, he knows when you're awake . . .

Ho, Ho - Ho!

I am a regular little Christmas elf this year. I'm beginning to scare myself.

That would be the tree that Rockboy put up over the weekend.

That would all of the Christmas presents - wrapped.

The only thing I can think of that I need to do is make cookies, but that will have to happen next week otherwise they will get eaten before I'm supposed to hand them out to the brothers.

Fa la la la lalala.

Is It A Full Moon???

It has been one of Those Days.

I should be catching up on all the work I meant to do today, until Life got in the way. Instead, I am here, to find out if it's just me, or has the world gone batshit crazy today???

The morning started out with me fiddling around with my blogger template, trying to change it to something else. That didn't work. No problem - I had the code for the template I've been using and slammed it back into blogger. Oh hell no. It didn't take. I was time-warped back to a previous incarnation including links that are a million years old. After some fiddling, I got it changed back to the way it started out before I went and got all creative.

I had to meet a client for a doctor's appointment at 9:30. No problem. I got there a few minutes early, he was already there with his staff - things are rolling right along.

TWO AND A HALF HOURS LATER we finally got called back for the appointment. Which is completely unacceptable. The explanation? There were some emergencies. I was there for that whole time. No one came out with blood on them. It was not an emergency.

Heartless? Yep. Sure am. But this client has some behavioral challenges and fortunately, he was having a much better day than I was. I had to leave that appointment early (after we finally got in back) to go to another meeting an hour away.

I got to that meeting and it started 30 minutes late. It was spectacularly unproductive.

By this time, it is 2:00 and I have yet to eat so much as a cracker - all day.

I grabbed coffee with a friend only to get a phone call from Rockboy that just about launched me into orbit.

His new (to him) XBox? Wouldn't work with his TV? So HE TOOK MY TV OUT OF THE LIVING ROOM AND HE JUST WANTED TO LET ME KNOW.

Needless to say, I informed him that he would return MY TV to the living room immediately, hook it up, and make sure it was working BEFORE I GOT HOME OR BY GOD THERE WOULD BE A KILLING.

The TV is hooked up although he didn't bother to put it back like it was. Sometimes, you just have to take a deep breath and think calming thoughts. I fixed the TV and in the meantime, eliminated 90% of the extra cords, wires, adapters, etc. that were lurking back there. (Men never do that sort of thing when they hook something up. Redneck has been back there 30 times and never did it. Rockboy certainly wasn't going to do it, since he was mad.)

Rockboy boogied out of here before I got home, but I'm waiting for him. He has to come back eventually. And when he does, it's not going to be pleasant. Because that is the kind of day I've had and I may as well take all of it out on him since he was foolish enough to give me a reason.

One of these days, he'll learn.

Monday Morning Blah

It's Monday. Again.

This is technically the last full week of work for us, since we are going to be closed the week of Christmas, coming back to work a couple of days the next week, then off New Year's Day and Jan. 2.

Not for me.

The state moved our annual survey up from February to January 5, which is the first full week of work after the holidays, so that means I will be working when my other co-workers are at home, sleeping in, relaxing, having fun, etc.

Why, no, I'm not at all bitter about it.

The snow last week messed up my travel plans for work, so instead of traveling one day this week, I'll be away two days. Plus another day to go to an appointment with a client and a meeting for him on the same day.

Redneck is here. And that's fine, really. In the past couple of weeks, he's started staying on Sunday night and then just going to work on Monday.

But here's the thing: I've lived alone for a LONG time and I have little set routines, especially in the morning. I like to take my time getting ready, drinking coffee, watching (or listening) to the news, etc. and all of these things take place in my bedroom/bathroom.

Since Redneck does not have to get up at the crack of dawn, I have to do these things elsewhere which means I am perched on the couch in the living room. Which is ok, but vaguely unsettling. And when I get a shower and dry my hair, it's with the bathroom door closed so the noise doesn't wake him up. Same for putting on makeup.

I know that it's just a matter of getting used to a new routine but I'm struggling with it a little. Mornings are a struggle anyway because I rarely actually want to be up and moving and that makes it a little harder. It doesn't help that I'm envious of being able to sleep until you wake up. I know that he pays for that perk by having to work in the afternoon and evening when I'm at home in my pajamas, but let's not bring any silly logic into this, ok?

In other news, Rockboy and his girlfriend put up the tree on Saturday night. So far, Speedbump has stayed out of it, but I figure that will change as soon as she has the house to herself.

Christmas shopping is done and wrapping has commenced. Almost everything is in a box which will make it a lot easier for wrapping - nothing with a weird shape. I think opening wrapped stuff is more fun but I also admit to being lazy and using gift bags to just get the whole wrapping thing over with. That won't happen this year because I don't actually have bags that the boxes would fit in. I figure if I do one or two a day, I'll be done in no time with a minimum of pain and whining.

Crap. It's almost 6:30. I've got to get ready for work.

WTF???

I live in Nashville.

It does snow here. Really.

But, um, hello? The weather guy did NOT say it was going to snow like that.

Now, I know to the northern folks, that amount of snow is nothing. Actually, it's not much to me, either.

Except that Tennessee has one snowplow and we all have to share it.

It was elsewhere today.

It took me one hour to drive 5 miles, from the interstate to my neighborhood, for a couple of reasons.

1. There was a line of 40387 cars in front of me and they were all going reaaaalllly, reaaaaallly slow.

2. There was a lumpy, bumpy layer of ice all over the road which makes the hills and curves a bit of a challenge.

But, it's beginning to look a LOT like Christmas. Maybe I should get the stupid tree out this weekend.

Christmas Solution

Those of you that have been around for a few years know that I have an ongoing battle with Speedbump (the cat).

So far, Speedbump is winning.

I used to put up the Christmas tree on Black Friday. Instead of going shopping and making myself crazy, I would stay home, rummage in the attic, decorate, reminisce, and make myself crazy.

Then Speedbump moved in.

Speedbump loves Christmas. She loves it more than a toddler hopped up on cookies and hot chocolate.

She loves the presents. They're wonderful to climb on. There are ribbons to chew, bows to attack, paper to sniff. They crinkle and rustle. You can hide behind them.

But more than anything, she LOVES the Christmas tree.

She gets excited, tail twitching, as soon as the upstairs storage closet door opens. If she had hands, I believe that she would even help carry boxes downstairs.

As soon as the Christmas tree box is set down, she's on top of it, desperate to get inside. We almost can't get it open because we can't keep her off of it long enough. She insists on helping to sort the branches and straighten the tips. She inspects the center pole. She sits in the stand.

I usually wind up putting her in a bedroom and closing the door so we can get on with it already because she also likes to chase the lights and the garland.

The ornaments are particularly exciting. I used to put up a "children's tree" - a tree with no particular theme other than all the ornaments on it were made by someone I know or given to me as a gift. My mom made a zillion felt ornaments with beads and sequins - all stuffed and sewn by hand. There are the horrid ornaments I made in grade school with a styrofoam ball and glue and sequins. There are the Hallmark ornaments that Rockboy chose over the years. With colored lights, it was a gorgeous tree. Impressive. Colorful.

We don't put up that tree anymore. The soft ornaments were disappearing at an alarming rate. Some of them were found under furniture. Some were found down the hall. And some, the very unlucky ones, were found drowned in Speedbump's water bowl. Some were dismantled by systematic chewing, stuffing strewn from one end of the living room to the other.

No matter which tree we put up (there are two), she loves to climb them. She climbs up the inside of the tree, knocking branches loose as she goes. When they're just loose, it's not so bad - when they're completely removed, it becomes more difficult. Imagine decorating each branch and THEN putting the tree together after you've draped lights around them while they were in a circle on the floor. It's hard to put that stuff back together so that it doesn't look like ass.

I changed to glass ball ornaments because Speedbump can't figure out how to carry them away. She may swat them with her foot, but they don't wind up in the water bowl and their stuffins don't come out.

But, I am no longer in a hurry to get the decorations out because I know that every time I come home, I will enter the house holding my breath, waiting to see how much damage has been done this time. How long it will take to repair it.

I believe that I have found a solution. The upside-down Christmas tree. Some people buy them because they're quirky and trendy. But I suspect that the person that first hung a tree upside down from the ceiling was a person that has a demolition artist disguised as a cat.

Snapshot: Duh.

I can always tell when I'm under a lot of stress.

I get things mixed up or I forget them altogether. Of course, that is also a sign of dementia or Alzheimer's, but I think I'm still too young for those.

A co-worker's husband passed away last week. An email made the rounds about a memorial service that was scheduled for Saturday.

They live a couple hours away from me, so I got up at 6:00, drank coffee for a little while, got a shower, started getting ready.

Woke Rockboy up so that he could go take his ACT today. (Graduation requirement!)

Went back to the bathroom, put on moisturizer. (I'm trying to be better about doing that. The closer I get to 40, the more I worry about it. What kind of moisturizer do you like? There are only about forty-eleven choices and I had a panicky moment at Walgreens trying to make up my mind. What was I talking about?)

Oh yes, so duly moisturized, brush teeth, wake Rockboy up again and tell him to get his ass in gear, shuffle back to the bathroom, put on make-up.

Wake up Rockboy again, go back to the bathroom, towel-dry hair, detangle, look at make-up and wonder if I look like I forgot to wash my face due to the moisturizer making the make-up seem a little harsh.

Go get more coffee. Go back into bedroom, Redneck is awake and staring around like he has no idea why he's awake. (He's awake because he said he would drive me to the memorial service.)

Glad he's awake, go back into bathroom to dry hair with the door open. (It's hot as hell drying hair in a closed bathroom. Makes your make-up come off.)

Hair finally dry, plug in flat iron. Put on black tights. Ponder between two skirts - the long, black, drapey one or the short, straight gray one. Ask Redneck. He chooses the long one. (Good choice - it's cold here.) Ask him why he chose that one. Listen to him grumble about me asking him which one and then asking questions about it. Ignore him. Go straighten hair.

Check on Rockboy. He's up and moving. Good Rockboy.

Get dressed. Figure out which earrings to wear. (Note: sparkly Christmas stocking earrings are not somber enough for a memorial service.) Decide on long, dangly, pearl ones.

Go back to bathroom to brush hair. Drop brush on floor. Yell bad word when the handle of the brush breaks off. Decide the smaller brush (minus handle) fits better in purse.

Rockboy leaves to take the ACT. Redneck gets dressed and starts the car so it will warm up. Grab last minute crap (nail file, hanky) and find decent coat. (Note: do not wear your Harley Cafe/Las Vegas jean jacket to a memorial service.)

Program Garman, hit the road.

Drive for approximately three days. Decide to call other co-workers to see who's going.

Talk to co-worker #1: Are you going to the memorial service?
Co-worker: I don't know - we had some plans for next Saturday.
Me: Isn't it today?
Co-worker: No, I think it's next weekend.
Me: Fuck. I've got to call Co-worker #2. Bye.

Call co-worker #2: Hey, are you going to the memorial service today?
Co-worker #2: It's next Saturday - the 13th.
Me: It's not today? Are you sure?
Co-worker #2: It's next Saturday.
Me: Fuck. I'm already almost up there.

Me: (Look at Redneck guiltily.)
Redneck: Next Saturday.
Me: Um, yes?
Redneck: You made me get up early.
Me: You woke up on your own.
Redneck: Never mind, we'll find something to do up here.
Me: (Looking down at long, black, drapey skirt and boots) Ok. (Thinking my feet already hurt and I haven't walked anywhere yet.)

I ask you, Patient Reader - who the hell gets the date for a MEMORIAL SERVICE wrong? Roadchick, that's who. The only way it could've been worse was if we had driven the remaining 50 miles only to get to the church and then start wondering where everyone was.

How was YOUR weekend?

Turkey Day, Black Friday, and Beyond

Hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving!

Amazingly, our family Thanksgiving did not include bloodshed this year. It was close a couple of times, but disaster was averted and a (reasonably) nice time was had by all.

I got off work at 1:00 on Wednesday and came home with the intent of cleaning the house because it's been ages since I've had the time (and an empty house) to get it done.

Rockboy was home and intent on hanging out with me for awhile, which was fine, but then he had to leave to pick up a kitten for girlfriend. Finally. The house to myself.

I started in the living room, mainly because there's not a lot of stuff in there. Couch, loveseat, chair, coffee table, 2 end tables, 2 lamps, TV, and 5 pictures on the mantle. Not a lot of knick-knacky crap to deal with. For some reason, a simple cleaning turned into Fall Cleaning - doing the windows, baseboards, windowsills, etc. Apparently, I've got something of a Black Friday cleaning tradition going on. I think that is what I did last year at this time.

This continued on for the next several days although I did take a break on Saturday and Sunday because Redneck was here and we did a little shopping.

I still have to finish the kitchen. Above the cabinets is a space - presumably for displaying your decorative items. So, I displayed decorative items. And other than looking upward from time to time and shuddering, never did another thing about it. It was time. I climbed up there and hauled all that nasty, dusty crap down and cleaned it up and put 90% of it into a yard sale box. Then I vacuumed up the dust and scrubbed the stupid woodwork rail and upper cabinets. The stuff I decided to keep is parked on the table at the moment. I really don't want to put it back up there but I don't have anywhere else to put it but it's also stuff I don't want to get rid of because it's either an antique or from a family member, or both. So, it's in limbo on the table until I can make a decision about what to do with the stuff.

It's not allowed anywhere else in the house because it's kitchen-y looking stuff AND it will not coordinate with the way the rest of the house looks.

It's a dilemma, y'all. What do you do with the stuff you can't really get rid of, but don't really want to keep? It's beginning to look like it may wind up in boxes in the attic.

Really, the entire point of the exercise was two-fold: to get the house clean, and to get rid of stuff.

I try really hard to keep my level of stuff to a minimum - I really do try. But then I get confused by this kind of stuff.

I'm not terribly sentimental - I can get rid of things that were given to me as gifts without a second thought. If I don't love it or don't use it, it's got to go.

But the gray area of family heirloom/antique kind of gets me. It doesn't help that every time I go to my mom's house, she has some little something that Great Aunt Mary crocheted or whatever and she wants me to have it. Since I'm the only girl, I've become the repository for all this stuff from my mother. I hate to tell her no, I don't want it - she gets that hurt look.

I can promise you that those doilies and back-of-the-chair-head-protector things will never see the light of day again - they've been stuck in the drawer that holds my one tablecloth and cloth napkins (for Easter). My decorating style could be considered Mid-Century Modern with a minimum of clutter/frilly crap.

And I'm afraid that if I get rid of the stuff - on Craigslist, Ebay, yard sale, whatever - that I'll wind up regretting it later. Once it's gone, it's gone, right?

Welcome to December. 24 days until Christmas. Have you finished your shopping yet? I've got some doilies that I'm sure someone on your gift list would just LOVE.

Distracted

I'm distracted, y'all.

I'm sitting here at work and I should be working. Finishing November notes. Finishing an audit. Finishing something.

I'm thinking about all the stuff that I need to do when I get home. I need to do laundry. I need to sweep the floor. I need to dust. And vacuum. And really clean the entire house. The cobwebs are threatening to take over and Halloween is long gone.

And I have at least one report that I need to type for my part-time transcription job for fun and profit. And I need to mail back all those little tapes because they're really starting to pile up and in all honesty, I don't know how many I can keep before they'll have to buy more because apparently, I am starting a collection of them and can never part with any that I receive. Either that, or they may start docking my check to replace them. So, I need to go to the post office and mail the damn things.

I need to start thinking about the holidays. Amazingly, I am almost done with the shopping. Only Rockboy left to go. But he's the difficult one.

I need to figure out if I'm going to do the whole Christmas tree thing. And when. Speedbump LOVES the Christmas tree and dismantles it every chance she gets. And steals the ornaments. And hides them.

I need to get my ass to the DMV and get the renewal stickers for the car. I did manage to sit in a mile long line yesterday afternoon and get the emissions test done - why can't they just give you your stickers there instead of having to go to some other government building to stand in another line? And write another check.

I need to return a call to the Outlaws from this past weekend. They called but I was in a crap mood and didn't answer the phone. Because I am a bad person. I will make it up by ordering them a Christmas present. Add that to the list. Don't let me forget.

I need to remember to go to my mom's house to do her hair color on Friday. This is also the day that I have to change their beds. I am a traveling chambermaid. They have a housekeeper who comes every two weeks. I don't know why that woman can't change the beds. Actually, I do know. It's because this way my mother knows she will see me every two weeks whether I like it or not. What she doesn't realize is that if I didn't have to change the damn beds, I might actually come visit once in awhile.

I need to remember to keep my mouth SHUT on Thanksgiving Day and NOT get involved in all the family drama that is always swirling around. I've managed to stay out of it so far, but that's mainly because I believe that distance = silence. Thanksgiving Day will be the test of how well I can take my own advice and shut the fuck up and stay the hell out of it.

I need to remember to post to this blog more than twice a month.

I need to remember everything that I'm grateful for, including you, Patient Reader.

Have a wonderful holiday!

It's NOT Fair!

I have managed to catch a cold.
That makes it sound like I've done something really difficult - like catching a fairy with a snare set with moonbeams and marshmallows. Or a 10 pound bass with yarn and a safety pin.
Actually, I think it should be the other way around: A cold has managed to catch me.

Let's rewind just a bit.

Remember a few weekends ago, when Redneck and I went to Gatlinburg for the weekend? And we went poking around in dusty old buildings up on Cades Cove and I got a sinus infection? Remember?

I went to the doctor and got fixed up with some antibiotics and just finished them - YESTERDAY.

Now, I know that antibiotics don't mean a damn thing when it comes to colds since colds are viruses. That is not the point of this.

The point of all this is: IT'S NOT FAIR. I was just sick. Now I'm sick again. And at the end of the virus-y cold part, I will develop a sinus infection laden with bacteria that will need to be treated yet again with antibiotics, that I just finished taking.

And, of course, I have a crushing schedule this week with absolutely no time built in for inconvenient things like illness. I'm desperately trying to shuffle things around to fit it all into four days instead of five because I'm working from home today to keep the contagion to myself. My co-workers have threatened me with death before for coming into work while sick and I don't want to go see clients and possibly make them sick OR (huge possibility) pick up something else from one of them who caught a bug somewhere.

It's cold and flu season, darlings. Use your hand sanitizer. Sure wish I had.

Happy Halloween!

Be safe & have fun!