Cheese + Maple Syrup + Ice Cream + Clam Chowder + Lobster = Paradise

On my last full day in New England, the possibilities were endless. In the end, it was my life goal – to visit all 50 states – that sealed the deal: I would drive to Vermont! (The realization that I would see FIVE new states by the time my adventure was over nearly made me pee my pants – I AM Mrs. Pee after all.)

I leave the hotel without a single plan. In fact, all I know of Vermont is that Northeasters like to ski there and they are known for their cheese (wasn’t entirely sure this was true - I kept telling myself, “It’s WISCONSIN that’s known for their cheese and you can’t have TWO cheese states). I call Mom along the way, “Mom: Vermont, what are they famous for?” The first thing that pops into her head is maple syrup, so she 's off on a Googling spree and scores with the address for a working maple syrup/cheese farm called Sugarbush Farm. “They do cheese and maple syrup tastings!” is all she has to say and I'm on my way.

I plug the address into the GPS, sipping from the water bottle as I soak up the sights. My bladder sends her first warning “Leigh – bathroom – start looking.” I continue my winding drive through beautiful Southern Vermont, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel to distract my angry bladder, frantically searching for gas stations (panic sets in – this is rural Vermont – I haven’t seen a business for miles), twenty minutes pass and bladder is now FURIOUS as I finally locate a gas station on the GPS: 10 miles, 5, miles, 1 mile, old man (yes, that's him in the photo) pulls right in front of me (Vermont drivers are the WORST I’ve EVER seen – wildly aggressive, selfish, reckless), man slows down, my bladder sends evil curses to HIS bladder, bladder is feeling pain it’s never known and will never forgive me, spot gas station, step out of car, think my bladder might explode with each step (seriously, worst pain ever) and then – sweet relief, angels singing, rainbows appear, and I realize 45 minutes passed and I don’t remember a single sight. Sigh.

I finally reach the turnoff to the farm and it’s not long before I find myself in dangerous territory – muddy, rutted, dirt roads! Driving a Jeep everyday, I never question road conditions and out of habit, I failed to do so on this misty morning. The Prius, though not thrilled with this challenge, was a champion. She and I knew it was too late to turn back, too muddy to stop, too dangerous to hesitate, so on the wings of Faith we flew up that hillside, bouncing wildly, scraping bottom, slipping and sliding and before I know it, I'm pulling into a parking lot (full of trucks and SUVS, by the way – no other little cars). Stomach growling (and bladder pouting) I walk through the entrance and I'm immediately greeted by a cheerful woman who asks the world's best question, “Would you like to sample some cheese?” Thinking surely I slid off the hillside and am now in heaven, I lick my lips and start tasting! Boy of boy – cheese has never tasted so good! Cheddar, Sharp Cheddar, Blue Cheese, Sage Cheese, Horseradish Cheese - mmmmmm, mmmmmm! Just when I think it's over, the sweet lady pulls out the maple syrup bottles! We start with the maple sap (which is virtually tasteless and looks like water) which is boiled to produce the maple syrup we’ve all tasted (the time of year the sap is extracted determines the color and taste of the syrup) and I sample four delicious varieties before heading to the gift shop to stock up on my favorites!

The drive downhill (Photo to the right, taken from the parking lot, shows the start of muddy conditions- it would get MUCH worse) is slightly less terrifying and soon I'm on my way (after a quick scan of the GPS to find local “attractions”) to the “Vermont Grand Canyon” – Quechee Gorge. Don’t get too excited – it’s only 165 feet from bridge to the river below but the view is phenomenal (not wild about the bridge shaking madly when cars passed over) and the river, stunning.

For some reason, I have the urge to visit the only Vermont town I’d ever heard of – Montpelier – so I set off once more, and the further North I travel, the more beautiful the scenery – hillsides scattered with colorful barns, lazy rivers, frozen waterfalls along the highway, covered bridges. After a quick drive through the state capitol, Montpelier, I'm on the road again – this time, headed for the ski village of Stowe, where I follow the signs to the ski basin, park the car and spot the sign, “Gondola Rides.” I hop out, stopping by a couple who are packing up after a day of skiing, ask if they’d seen any non-skiers riding the lift, follow their directions to the lift, stroll up to the lift operato and ask if I can ride, and he waves me through – FOR FREE! The fully enclosed gondola is a cozy 5 minute ride to the top of the state’s highest peak and the sweeping views are AMAZING! I couldn’t believe the luck! Another five minutes, and my feet are back on the ground and I'm on my drive back to Massachusetts.

My last stop? Any guesses? No? BEN AND JERRY’S ICE CREAM FACTORY! That’s right! I breeze through the doors ten minutes before the next tour, pay my three bucks for a ticket and am soon guided through the ice cream making process with a free sample at the end. Cheese, maple syrup and ice cream – heavenly!

I make it back to the hotel by 7, where I join up with Sid for a delicious dinner at the Gloucester House in – you guessed it – Gloucester, MA. I have a cup of scrumptious clam chowder (the test of good chowder - the spoon floats on top without sinking) and lobster ravioli (is there anything better?) and before I know it, the curtains are closing on this perfect New England day.

More Photos!

Mrs. Pee and the Cape

I began the day with a quick stop at a little Salem diner for a cup of coffee and an egg sandwich, "to go please.” The girl behind the counter wasn’t entirely excited to serve me but I turned her frown upside down in the end. I thought I’d be really clever and take the scenic route to Boston; turns out it’s not too scenic but it did double my drive time. I missed an exit and that cost me another 10 minutes (missing an exit here is not like missing an exit in Texas, where you drive for a mile and hop on the next entrance ramp. On no! Missing an exit here is like a face to face confrontation with your worst enemy and coming up short and under-armed.) The silver lining is a pass by Harvard once more, glimpsing a few row boats on the water – just like in the movies.

I finally found myself cruising down the freeway to Cape Cod, pulling off after a few miles to fill up the gas tank. Two funny things about this detour - one, I could not find a self-serve station and I panicked - what do I do? Am I supposed to tip the attendant? Why can’t these darn people pump their own gas? Who knew there were so many full service stations still in operation? Two, it cost less than $20 to fill the tank of the Prius and I drove a million miles before needing another fill-up. I pay $50 to fill the Jeep and that lasts less than 300 miles! (No, I’m not selling my Jeep, but I am impressed with the baby Prius).

First stop – Plymouth, as in Plymouth Rock, the landing place of the Pilgrims and the Mayflower in 1620. Though some say there is no historical evidence that the pilgrims literally landed on a rock, it doesn't really matter - the memorialized rock was silent witness to the Pilgrim's landing and that is enough to send goosebumps up and down my arms. After using the park restrooms (and smiling to myself at the irony of the hardships the Pilgrims endured upon arrival in Plymouth contrasted with the sparkling clean, totally automated bathroom I found there) and walking the grounds of Plymouth Rock State Park (which also hosts the Mayflower II, a replica of the original), I drove to the beach and watched the waves pound against the seawall, throwing on my raincoat like a child on the first snow day,grinning and giggling as the mist sprayed me (no doubt, I looked like a maniac!)

I continued my adventure on the North part of the Cape, passing through Manomet, Ellisville, Sagamore Beach, Sandwich, Barnstable and again, following every "Beach Access" sign and walking the sand, listening to the seagulls, searching for lighthouses.

Western and Central Cape Cod I found to be charming and surprisingly residential. The further up the the Cape I traveled, the more I craved the sophisticated beauty of the Maine coastline, as the towns seemed to lose their charm. In it's defense, I'm sure I would have a totally different perception in the summer.

I was determined to reach the furthest tip of the Cape, Provincetown, so I ventured on, stopping in Orleans for a lobster roll at Sir Crickets and I drove to First Encounter to Beach to sit on a lonely bench with my friend, the seagull (very polite little guy, he didn't even beg and yes, I shared with him) so that I could gobble my lunch. It wasn't until after I finished that I realized the historical relevance of my lunch spot - "First Encounter Beach" - the first encounter of Pilgrim and Indian in 1620. Wow.

I finally found myself standing on the beach in Provincetown and the view was worth every second of the drive. The waves were huge and the sound was hypnotic. On my way back to Peabody, I drove the Southern side of the Cape and found that no matter how many times I stopped to enjoy the view, I was still blown away by the ocean's awesome power. I think the water was even more beautiful on this side, and I was sad I wasn't able to visit Nantucket or Martha's Vineyard - the ferry was over an hour ride both ways. It's always a joy to leave something undiscovered - gives one something to look forward to next time.

Here are some pictures from the drive "home."

Mayflower II - couldn't fit it up above!

Peabody to New Hampshire to Maine and Back Again

If you're like me, you've wondered what a drive up the New England coast might be like and after yesterday, I can tell you - spectacular! I hit the road at 8 am and darted onto the freeway, patiently waiting for my coastal route road sign. If you're thinking, "Hmph, like there's any way she really experienced coastal New England in one day, consider this - I spent 10 hours driving 200 miles! Every "Beach Access" sign, I followed it. Every lighthouse, I searched for it. Every possible way to get turned around, I did it. Every second of bitter wind and cold I could endure to gaze upon the rolling blue waves of the Atlantic, by golly, I endured it with a giant smile on my frozen face.

I would love to write something poetic of my journey, something I could read years from now that would, like a spark, fuel the memories I made and let me relive it all over again. I don't know what to say. It was a private experience, shared only with the Prius, God, the earth, the ocean - just a girl, on an adventure, soaking up the sights like desperate sponge. I didn't want to miss ANYTHING.

These are a few of my favorite things:

1. Every town has at least one wooden church, who's steeple you spot miles after leaving the town in the rearview. Like Jackie Kennedy in a suit and pearls - classic, stunning, timeless.

2. The architecture. I'm shaking my head in awe right now as I attempt to find the words. I couldn't help but imagine myself inside, reading a book by the light of a single lamp, a storm rolling in off the Atlantic, hearing the shutters creak and the trees straining against the wind, and listening for the sounds of footsteps from ghosts who lived there before me.

3. The spirit. I had little direct interatction with the folks on my journey but there is a friendly spirit that even penetrated my car windows. Drivers are courteous to one another, folks wave to one another, even to me (and we thought only Texans did that - think again). It's a dignified sort of hospitality, not sure how else to describe it.

4. The ocean. It's breathtaking. From the sandy shores of New Hampshire to the rocky coast of Maine, I will never forget the time I spend standing against the wind, breathing in the salty air, mesmerized by the crashing waves. Awesome.

5. The lighthouses. They've bravely protected our shores for hundreds of years, and I appreciate their simple beauty and solitude. There wasn't a single lighthouse where I didn't mutter under my breath, "Wow. WOW."

Boston to Salem to Peabody to Cape Ann

Picking up where I left off, Sid and I went ghost hunting on the way back to our room at the Parker House, wandering the third floor, the hottest spot for paranormal activity. One room was so haunted, in fact, they turned it into a broom closet! With every creepy corner turned, I fully expected to a face to face meeting with a ghost but sadly, no such luck. But, believe what you will, as we were walking back to the elevators, making pretend ghost noises and lightly scratching on doors to scare the guests in their rooms, Sid jumped and hollered, "OUCH! Something just pinched me!" I giggled and said, "Ooooh, maybe it was a ghost!" But he described the sensation as someone grabbing the back of his leg and pinching with all their might. Ghostly grab or ants in his pants? We'll never know...

We woke up early Sunday morning and began the never ending walk to Enterprise. I kept saying, "Sid, Enterprise - 'they'll pick you up' - WHY are we walking in 20 degree weather?" We got all kinds of turned around but finally managed to find the place and snag our car - a Prius. Yeah. I drive a Jeep on 35 inch tires and Sid drives a Dodge diesel on 37 inch tires and there we were, cruising in an Al Gore approved vessel (the car rules, by the way - super cute and super peppy). We headed straight to Fenway Park where I THOUGHT we were to attend a pre-season game; however, I discovered the night before that "Home Game" during spring training means the spot where spring training takes place - in the case of the Red Sox - FLORIDA! We both got a great kick out of that (and I called my brother at ten o'clock that night to tell him too, he was not amused). We opted for a tour of Fenway Park instead, which was a trip highlight. The tour guide was a hoot and his passion for his team was infectious (I even bought a Red Sox hat afterwards!) and though construction is pretty heavy on the Park right now (as they attempt to add all modern conveniences and updates before 2012, when it will become a historic landmark that can't be altered or destoryed), we were able to walk out in the bleachers. Incredible!

Next stop, Harvard. Not too exciting, but I've always wanted to see the campus and it is certainly as beautiful as I imagined. I chuckled to myself as we drove through Cambridge, thinking the time in my life when I actually thought I should apply to an Ivy League school or two. I made straight A's, graduated in the Top Ten of my class and I thought, "Why not? I'm smart!" Little did I know that smart doesn't BEGIN to cut it! Brilliant is the name of the Ivy League game, and that ain't me. (see, I even say ain't - you don't say ain't if you attend Harvard unless you're making fun of George W. I'm just saying.)

We began our journey to Peabody (I learned to pronounce it properly - it's not Pea BODY (as in No - BODY) it's Pea - Bode - ee. Whatever. After ditching our bags at the hotel, we headed for historic Salem, as in The Salem Witch Trials. I was so thrilled to be there, heightened by the fact that in the 8th grade, my history fair group (comprised of 4 very giggly girls - LOTS of fun we had) made it the State competition and our theme? The Salem Witch Trials! In 1692, those fateful events unfolded and there I was - walking the same hills, seeing the same beautiful waters as those townspeople 300 years ago. I can't even begin to describe the joy I felt as I walked those streets, breathing in the history, walking by ancient graves, conversing with the locals who absolutely know how lucky they are to live here (I asked them) - magical.

After dinner of steamed lobster (for me) and halibut (for Sid) we drove the coastline of Cape Ann. My first real view of the Atlantic nearly made me cry, standing on the shore just as the sun was beginning to set. I'm looking forward to spending more time on Cape Ann on Thursday.

That's all for now, friends! I don't have the patience to put together a slide show but I will someday.

From Chicago to Boston

NOTE: My Chicago slide show isn't working properly. I spent so much time entering in artist's names and titles, all the names to the landmarks etc and RockYou.com deleted them once. I entered them again, saved it, it was working fine, and now half my captions are gone again. I don't have it in me to redo it a third time - maybe in a few days I'll be more inspired!


We arrived in Beantown twenty minutes early this morning after a quick, painless flight from Chicago. A short cab ride later, we were standing in the stunning lobby of the Omni Parker House, one of America's most haunted and oldest hotels. Here are some interesting tidbits about this old beauty:

• Opened in 1855
• Known for having invented the Boston Cream Pie and Parker House roll
• Many well-known people have worked at the Parker House, including Ho Chi Minh, who was a baker, Malcolm X, who was a busboy, and Emeril Lagasse
• JFK announced his candidacy for Congress in the hotel's Press Room, proposed to Jackie and had his bachelor party at the Parker
  
• Home to the Saturday Club, which consisted of literary dignitaries such as Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Henry David Thoreau, Charles Dickens and Ralph Waldo Emerson

After checking in (and sadly not encountering a single ghost), we hit the Freedom Trail, a 2.5 mile red-brick walking trail that leads you to 16 nationally significant historic sites, though I must say we strayed quite a bit from the beaten path. We began in Boston Common (America’s oldest public park), made our way to charming Beacon Hill (a 19th-century residential neighborhood), the Old South Meeting House (which held protests from our greatest patriots), the Old State House (seat of British Government during the Revolution, the Boston Massacre took place just outside the doors), and the Paul Revere House (built in 1680, he lived there when he made his famous messenger ride).

We stopped for lunch at a little pub and then strolled to the harbor and took in the beauty of the clear water and beautiful boats. We made a friend in Starbucks who told us we HAD to get our hineys over to Mike's Pastry, home of the "best cannolis." Of course we took her advice! (have I mentioned Sid's favorite dessert is a cannoli from Ferrara in NYC?) Sid claims they really are better at Mikes, I plead the 5th. We made our way back to Quincy Market and gobbled our dessert while we people watched, made our way back to the hotel, enjoyed a delicious room service dinner of crab cakes and clam chowder and here we sit in the lobby, kicking back after a spectacular day and we'll finish the day with a drink in a the hotel bar, which has been a gathering place for some pretty interesting characters throughout the years.

More later, friends!

PICTURES TO COME!

Chicago, Chicago!

"Chicago, Chicago that toddling town, Chicago, Chicago Ill show you around - I love it! Bet your bottom dollar you'll lose the blues in Chicago, Chicago...."

I've always loved that Frank Sinatra song and now when I sing along I'll actually know what I'm singing about. I arrived 2 hours late but as I expected delays flying into O'Hare, I wasn't too put out. I called Sid to let him know I'd landed (he was already in town for a convention) and my phone suddenly went dead. I glanced up and there he was - leaning against the wall at baggage claim, my knight in shining armor there to surprise his girl. Our hotel is rad - Aloft is a new chain of hotels popping up (we have one in Plano and one in Frisco) and I snagged a rate of $55 a night. We knew we wouldn't have time to stay downtown, so staying in the burbs worked out beautifully for us, as the train is a quick walk (or free shuttle ride) away from the hotel. (I mention the rate for those of you who say you can't afford to travel - think again! You can be a budget traveler and still have a magnificent trip!)

We walked at least ten miles today, which felt amazing! We walked from our train station to Navy Pier, we walked up and down the pier, we walked along the shore to the Art Institute of Chicago Museum, (after discovering a ridiculous ticket line) we walked to Sears Tower, we walked to Millennium Park, we walked to Giordano's Pizza, we walked back to the museum (no line this time) and we walked the museum. In my opinion, there is no greater way to experience a city than on foot, especially when it's 60 degrees and sunny!

My overall opinion of Chicago? Pretty nice. I didn't have that swell of awe I felt in DC or Seattle or New York City but it's a beautiful city and Sid and I both agree we'd love to come back and stay downtown.

Top Five Things I Won't Forget About Chicago:

1. I think I'll call it "the water effect." A city on the water just has that vibe - the laid back, easy breezy feel that I adore. Lake Michigan is my first Great Lake sighting, and I was blown away at the enormity of it. It's like being on the coast without the salty air, because you literally cannot see land in any direction. The weather today was pure perfection so naturally everyone was walking, biking, running, or boating - definitely a day I'll remember.

2. The bums. They are everywhere! I'm not mentioning them to be cruel but the abrasive and confrontational demeanor of many we encountered makes them impossible to forget. We were offered directions by one man who wanted money for his kindness (I think Sid gave him a buck), we were followed by another when we ignored him, we endured a booming speech by one on the train, and literally every other place we went, there they were - in your face. Very bizarre. And let me make myself clear- when I say "bum," I'm talking about men who are able-bodied-wearing-a-warm-coat-and-shoes-so-get-a-job-already kind of men. And does this city not have shelters???

3. The architecture. Quite simply, the buildings are just cool!

4. The street structure. For a tourist or business traveler, it isn't easy to find your way around. There is no grid like New York City - the streets are all named and they don't all run East/West/North/South, they curve around and reverse direction and - well - if it weren't for my incredible sense of direction (it's true, Sid - you're just jealous) I think we would've been totally lost.

5. 'Da pizza. I've had pizza in New York City and to settle the score, Chicago pizza is just better. Plain and simple. I know it's different, you supposedly can't compare the two, yada yada yada. Chicago dominates the pizza battle. That said, my Mom's pizza is still my very favorite.

Next Stop? Boston!

Here are my favorite photos from the day:

Anyone want to adopt two angelic dogs?

I am so mad I could spit. Or punch a wall. Or wrestle a lion.

I spent thirty minutes sweeping my kitchen and dining room floors this morning. I pulled out my vacuum cleaner with the handy attachments, I sucked up the dirt piles, I put everything back neatly in it's place. I brewed some coffee, poured myself a steaming cup and sat back in my cozy chair to sip away at my little mug of heaven. On my way for cup number 2, I strategized with myself "Self? Maybe it would be wise to pull the dogs inside so I can go straight from my last sip of heaven to getting dressed for lunch (with Joanna) without having to fuss over Bear and Dixie." I set my cup down, open the door, whistle for the pups and I spot it immediately - from a hundred feet away - galloping paws encrusted with mud running full speed for the door. Not just regular mud that wipes right off with the swipe of a towel but almost dry mud that clings to an object for dear life. "Son of a biscuit," I hear myself mutter (and at that moment, with a growling tummy, a biscuit sounded so delightful that my irritation grew even more).

I'm looking for a towel when a blur shoots past me in the kitchen - Bear. Not just Bear, but the 17 gallons of mud flying off his paws. "GET OUT!" I holler at the top of my lungs and because he's no dummy, he obeys and flies out the door. Taking a deep, calming breath, I crouch down to wipe his paws when the dog from the very depths of hell who lives next doors begins to bark in his nails-on-chalkboard voice that you can hear from the next neighborhood (I know, because I can hear him on my walks). Bear darts from me, paw still in my hand, and starts running the fence line. Guess where the most mud in the entire yard is? Uh huh. The fence line. With frustration building, I reach for little Dixie's paw and start wiping when suddenly the trashcan on the other side of the fence starts moving around. I look up just as two big hands reach over and a man hoists himself up. Before I could even think about being scared, I see his "Oncor" hat (what are the odds that the meter man would show up at this exact moment? Seriously?) and greet him happily (though all happiness had been sucked out of me mere moments before his arrival). How do you think Dixie reacted, as her paw rested sweetly in my hand? Like a rabid junk yard dog,that's how. She raced (well, Dixie doesn't race, she runs at half speed) to the fence, barks wildly at the man, as if she would have been any match for him if push came to shove, until finally he finishes reading the meter and leaves. I clean Dixie and watch her, defeated, as she runs through the house disturbing the lovely piles of mud Bear left for me. I step on the porch to holler for Bear, who is still pacing up and down the fence line because Mr. Neighbor felt the urge to work in his backyard at the worst possible time (we don't have a privacy fence - you can see right through it). I holler for Bear with a tiny undetectable trace of rage in my voice. He ignores me. I holler again, rage building, and he turns his head to look at me - and ignores me. Yelling now, I call for Bear, "BEAR GET OVER HERE NOW!" followed with a pleading cry, "I'll give you a treat!" Nothing. I slam the door, leaving him outside, run up the stairs and, well, here I sit - near tears. How can a girl have a clean house when two disgusting beasts live to destroy it?

What's worse, I can't wash my hair this morning and that's sort of my thing - clean hair. I could be sick with the flu and I'd still shower and blow dry my hair. But I got it colored yesterday and Holli warned me not to wash it for at least 24 hours. So I have to meet Joanna, one of my oldest friends, wearing a baseball hat. Sigh.

Happy Thursday, everyone.

Reunited and it feels so - blah.

I checked out a book today, my first time in at least 10 years. Apparently, human-to-human interaction is no longer a necessity in this process. I rounded up my books, strolled over to the "Express Check Out" machine (don't know why I feel the urge to capitalize that phrase, but I do), scanned my handy dandy library card (designed to pop cleverly onto my keychain - fancy), scanned my books, and walked my happy hiney back to my car. The whole experience took Sid and me less than 5 minutes. Another funny little ingredient to my reunion with the libary (or this particular library, which is part of the giant new courthouse and where I registered for my library card the last time I had to pay for a ticket) - you had to take the elevator to floor hop. We took the stairs to the third floor only to find the doors locked from the outside. I don't know why this made me laugh - maybe it's because this library seemed the perfect meeting spot for Lazys Anonymous, with the big comfy chairs scattered throughout and the quaint little coffee shop on the first floor and the no-exercise policy.

As I held my books on the way home, I felt a wave of sadness. I have to give the books back. They aren't MINE and I won't get that happy little feeling that comes from adding a new member to the bookcase. I like to imagine that all my books come to life at night - Edward Cullen is having an affair with Becky Bloomwood (and she encourages him to gain 30 pounds and visit a tanning booth) and Dumbledore and Gandalf have secret meetings to exchange magic recipes and Aurora Teagarden solves the other detective's mysteries for them - I guess they'll all have to make do without "Boston for Dummies" and "New England 2008." I think today was my first and last trip to the library.

P.S. Kidding about the creepy character rendezvous - totally serious about my love of book collecting.

EDIT: My Bloggership

Hmmmm. My blog statistics are down but I find I'm blogging more. What's the deal? Do you like me better when I'm silent? Did you stop loving me? Is my content putting you to sleep? Did I offend you? Is there some new social networking phenomenon I haven't heard of yet? What's going on, folks? This inquiring mind wants to know!

P.S. I find that, in general, pals on my Blog List are blogging less and I miss having fun stuff to read. If you read my blog and you have a blog yourself that I don't know about, let me know your blog address! (somebody give me a ticket for overuse of the word "blog")

EDIT: I'd like to clarify that by statistics, I meant the number of hits I get each day, not the number of comments (well, I won't lie, comments are much loved and much appreciated - all my fellow bloggers know what I mean!) Thanks for your sweet comments and thanks for reading! You guys are AWESOME! And for those of you who read my blog and don't have blogs of your own, what are you waiting for? And Linda - if you're the same Linda who lived by the Urbans, then we DO know each other (sort of!) and I can't wait to read all about your life on the river. What a dream!

Top 25 - Survey Saturday!

For each item choose your top or favorite – you can ONLY PUT 1 THING!!! Also, consider yourself tagged:

1. Movie: This is already insanely difficult but I'll say...Garden State.
2. Singer: This is hard. Really hard. One singer? ONE? I have to pick someone I couldn't live without, right? Hmmmm. I can't do it. I'm sorry.
3. Song: I'll pick my favorite song of the moment - "The Show" by Lenka
4. Regular TV Show: 30 Rock
5. Reality TV Show: American Idol
6. Game: The greatest game ever made, only sold for one year - HOTELS!
7. Author/Book: Dude, another difficult one so again - I'll pick my favorite of the MOMENT - Charlaine Harris
8. Magazine: Star
9. Animal: Dogs, of course!
10. Color: Red
11. Season: Winter!
12. Weather: Cold, dreary, thunderstormy
13. Flower: Roses
14. Holiday: Halloween
15. Recreational Activity: Reading
16. School: Texas A&M University – whoop!
17. Ice Cream Flavor: Cookies and Cream
18. Candy Bar: Reeses Peanut Butter Cup Easter Eggs (Ditto, Ally!)
19. Restaurant: La Hacienda Ranch
20. Cereal: Cookie Crisp!
21. Beverage: This Southern girl loves her sweet tea
22. Snack: Popcorn
23. Car: Love, love, love my Jeep Wrangler
24. City: NYC
25. Vacation Destination: Boston - it was next on my list of cities to see and I'm going in 7 days!

He's Just Not That Into You

I sure picked a fabulous night for a girlie dinner/movie date night. On my way to Sherman it was raining and the temperature was 37 degrees. Do I know where the umbrella is? No. Do I have a rain jacket? Yes. My loyal North Face jacket that has kept me warm, dry and not-so-stylish on many occasions and how do I repay this faithful friend? I spill coffee all over it during the last ice storm, stuff it in the backseat (after latte spilling incident), forget about it for a month, clean out Jeep, HANG dirty jacket in the closet (forgetting about said stain, apparently) and only remember about the stain last night when I threw it over my outfit and smelled rotten coffee. Fantastic! Thank heavens for my $5 NYC Special Cashmere Scarf - it kept me warm, it kept me dry and it left me covered in white fuzz because, well, it only cost $5 and what more can I possibly expect?

After a yummilicious dinner, we head to the movie theater where Brandy and my credit cards were declined. "Um, your card was rejected," ambitious movie ticket hander-outer guy says to me. "No it wasn't," I say back, because first of all, I know my account balance and second of all, Brandy's card was just rejected and then another card of hers was rejected. So, finally they tell us their system is down and we're just out of luck if we don't have cash. So Brandy buys my ticket because I rarely carry cash (I'm a bank debit card kind of girl) and we walk, flabbergasted at the rudeness of the clerks, into the theater. I ask the concession stand dude (another super ambitious fellow) if he can at least give me a cup of water since I am unable to make a soda purchase during this tragic movie-system-crash-of-2009 and he fills the tiniest cup you've ever seen with tap water and ice. Fabulous.

The movie was cute but the message was deep. The first scene (and no, people, this doesn't give anything away) shows a precious little girl on the playground being pushed down and called "dog poo" by a little boy who runs away and leaves her there in the sandbox, in tears. She runs to her Mommy and wails about what just happened, and her Mommy smiles and patronizingly says, "Do you know why he was mean to you? He LIKES you!" Bingo! It starts right there, ladies! A boy is MEAN to you and that means he LIKES you. What? Does that make sense? I'm going to tell MY daughter someday, "Honey, do you know why that brat pushed you in the sandbox and got dirt all over your fabulous new outfit that Mommy paid an arm and leg for at Gymboree? Because he's a weak, obnoxious bully who's Momma didn't raise him right and if I ever see that little punk again, I'm going to push HIM down and call HIM dog poo, do you understand me? Now sweatheart, speaking of dog poo, let's take a little road trip while Mommy tells you all about a funny prank involving poo, a brown paper bag and a lighter." (just kidding about that last little part about revenge. Maybe.)

After dog-poo girl gets hugged by her Mommy, we are shown various women all over the world in deep conversation with their girlfriends, "He didn't call because he's intimated by you," or "He loves you TOO much, that's why he's not calling" and the three of us girls in the audience were shaking our heads in understanding because we've either SAID those words or had a girlfriend say them to us.

I left the movie feeling so utterly blessed to have my Sid. He is good to the core, I adore him and for some crazy reason, he adores me too. But to all you single ladies out there, see this movie and fix your warped ideas about men and love and dating and call your Momma and tell her it's all her fault for convincing you that Little Timmy loved you all those years ago because he punched you in the arm in the playground! Little Timmy probably grew up to be a lonely bachelor still stalking girls in smokey bars with the same old pickup line.

EDIT! I'd like to call to order the meeting of....

EDIT: So, I put away about 80% of the laundry (I still have 20 million shirts to hang up - bleck!), I cleaned the living room, dining room and kitchen. I still haven't mopped because it rained and I knew the dogs would just muddy it up the moment I finished, I threw all my books into a storage bin (but they still need to go the bookshelf - didn't make it that far yet), I put all my mail in one place (haven't shredded/filed yet) , I washed more laundry (kitchen towels and such), I dusted, I took care of some work stuff....Hmmmm, I guess that's it. I didn't quite finish my list, now did I? But my house looks great and I feel great and I celebrated my accomplishments with dinner and movie date night with Holli and a new friend, Brandi. That's what counts, right?


Girl enters room, head bowed in shame. Out of the corner of her eyes she spots a crowd of normal enough people, nibbling donuts, nodding enthusiastically to one another in friendly conversations. "I'm in the wrong room, " girl mumbles grumpily to herself. On her way to the exit, girl throws a quick glance to the left and spots a disheveled man passed out in a chair, empty mug in one hand and a book (Harry Potter) in the right. Girl's eyes dart right and finds trash bins overflowing with garbage and piles of dust and dirt no one bothered to sweep up because they were too busy enjoying one another. Girl's eyes well up with warm happy tears, "My people. I've found my people!" Following the others to a circle of chairs, girl sits down, a giant smile on her face, and moments later, the words come exploding from her mouth, "My name is Leigh (Hi, Leigh!) and I'm... lazy!" [thunderous applause]

la⋅zy [ley-zee]

1.	averse or disinclined to work, activity, or exertion; indolent.

2.	causing idleness or indolence: a hot, lazy afternoon.

3.	slow-moving; sluggish: a lazy stream.

First step - admit you have a problem. Check! Since Sid is out of town, I thought this week was the perfect opportunity for some spring cleaning. By cleaning my house, I know my spirit will get some well needed spring cleaning too!

Here is my list for today:

1. Take care of business tasks
2. Put away all the laundry, organize closet if necessary (because - um - I have WAY too many clothes and there just isn't room)
3. Shut gameroom door and leave for Sid (It's a wreck, y'all! He has files and papers EVERYWHERE and it smells like dog - YUCK! Stanley Steamer will be receiving a call SOON!)
4. Dust windowseals, blinds, furniture, fans
5. Clean bathrooms, mirrors
6. Shred/File loose paper/mail
7. Put away books! They are everywhere! (Also remind Sid that he needs to build me a library)
8. Clean kitchen (and eat some lunch!)
9. Sweep/Mop floors (and try to avoid death by dog hair)
10. Febreeze!
11. Put away shoes/jackets
12. Take out the trash

On your mark, get set - GO!

Short Story Sunday

Cowboy Boots
By: Leigh
Age: 8

I think this story captures my work ethic, which has apparently haunted me since the second grade - enthusiastic start with a lazy finale. My punctuation and spelling get pretty horrendous towards the end, and yet again, I cut the story off just when things get interesting. Note: Until I was about 11, I thought "lets" was spelled "thats." I'm not sure what was up with that, but I have a drawing of the Astrodome from 4th grade art class with "That's raise the roof!" in big huge letters. Embarrassing!

Once upon a time in a land there never was there lived a giant. The giant's name was Turkey. Turkey met me at the beach. He went to the beach to wade in the water. He almost steped on me when I looked up. Turkey said, "My my what a surprise." That's when I heard a scream. Who could it be? I thought. That's when I noticed it had been me. The giant Turkey took me to his house. He also put on some cowboy boots. That's when I asked him where he got them he said, "I got them from one of my pals. He was my best friend!" Why did you leave him I asked? Well, there was a storm that was realy bad so I had to move. OH! TO TO TO TO TO BAD!

That's try to find him! Ok I said. That's start. They looked 3 years and found him in Maine. They huged and lived together and lived hapley ever after.

The end!

Debbie Downers

Two Debbie Downers met for lunch. It was a spectacular day - sunny and warm - and Friday, no less! Clearly happy to see one another and decked in their cheery spring outfits, the two exchanged smiles and sat down in a comfy booth, ready to play catch up. Let's listen in, shall we? (conversation exaggerated and names changed for identity protection)

Debbie Downer #1: Hi! You look cute today - all decked out for spring!
Debbie Downer #2 Thanks - you too! But boy do I hate this time of year - allergies, pollen, the heat is returning...
Debbie Downer #1: I know just what you mean. Spring - overrated, if you ask me. I hear allergies and asthma are at an all time high. How are you feeling?
Debbie Downer #2: I've been feeling dizzy all week and this headache! I guess it's my antibiotic - it clearly says "May cause dizziness" on the box - but I'm pretty sure it's a brain tumor. I have all the symptoms.
Debbie Downer #1: Makes sense. I've had a headache all week too. Aneurysm is the only likely cause. I hear more and more women our age are getting them.
Debbie Downer #2: Scary. So, how's the exercise plan going?
Debbie Downer #1: Well, with my knee, I can't do much. I'm waiting on those test results and I'm expecting the worst.
Debbie Downer #2: I would be too. Well, I've been doing some job hunting this week. Fun fun fun! NOT!
Debbie Downer #1: That's right! How's it going?
Debbie Downer #2: This economy is the pits. The unemployment rate went up again, according to the morning news. I bet I won't find a single thing. Speaking of work, how was school this week?
Debbie Downer #1: Terrible. One kid threw my lunch on the ground when I turned my back and stomped all over it while all the other kids laughed. Worst bunch ever.
Debbie Downer #2: Kids these days. They have no discipline. And to think one day they'll be in charge!
Debbie Downer #1: Tell me about it. Hey, did you watch The Office last night?
Debbie Downer #2: I did, but it's just not funny anymore.....

Amanda and I - er, Debbie Downer #1 and Debbie Downer #2, finished their scrumptious meals and hugged goodbye, ready to kick off the weekend. On her drive home, Debbie Downer #2 made a vow to herself to rid her mind of negative energy and focus on the numerous blessings God has given me, uh, I mean - her. Life is way too short to waste a single moment on anxiety and negativity. This girl - I mean, Debbie Downer - wants to give her worries to God and work on the things I - I mean she - can change.

And now, the original Debbie Downer!

Fallen Hero

My hero died today. I was planning a trip to Boston and he was taking his last breath. Life is cruel that way. One man suffers, another celebrates. One man is promoted, another is fired. One family goes to bed hungry, another dumps leftovers down the disposal. One woman kisses her husband goodnight, another buries hers. Why? I don't know. But God has a plan.

Brad led so many to Christ, not only in death but throughout his God-serving life. I am flooded with memories. Skiing with him in Colorado - watching him barrel down the mountain, pretending he was going to crash with mock concern on this face, and then cutting his skis at the very last moment, not showing an ounce of effort on his grinning face. Aggie Bonfire - in his big overalls and his booming voice - I couldn't wait to grow up and be an Aggie too. His and Jenny's wedding with Bucky the Lab running the ring down the aisle. Even then, I thought Jenny was so beautiful and, in fact, I remember telling her just that as I hugged her neck in celebration that day. I also remembering teasing Brad so many years ago, "Jenny likes YOU? Ewww!" But God had a plan. God knew the trials ahead, knew that Brad would need a joyful, courageous woman, knew that Brad and Jenny would inspire thousands to a stronger, deeper Faith and a closer walk with God.

Of course, Brad isn't the only man to beg God to spare his life. In Gethsemane, Jesus said to his disciples, "My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me." Going a little farther, he fell with his face to the ground and prayed, "My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will." Jesus, too, pleaded with his Father - begged that perhaps there was another way - but Jesus died on the cross and God most certainly had a plan.

"For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have everlasting life."
John 3:16

"Do you not know? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom. He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint."

Isaiah 40:18-31

Who Wants to Go on a Road Trip With Me?

Sid and I watched a few minutes of 'The Heartbreak Kid' with Ben Stiller last night, the tale of boy meets girl, boy and girl fall rapidly into love, boy marries girl after several weeks, girl accompanies boy on a road trip to Mexico for a romantic honeymoon, and boy discovers girl is not the woman he wants to spend the rest of his life with. After one particular scene, I was baptized with sweet clarity about my own marriage, about something I'm doing that could easily drive a rusty wedge between my beloved and me. Just watch the clip.

When the scene (which by the way, goes on and on with more singing and more restrained anger) was over, I turned to Sid.

Me: Um, is that what I do in the car?
Sid: Uh huh.
Me: Do I dance around like that?
Sid: Uh huh.
Me: Do I look that moronic?
Sid: Uh huh.
Me: Well, don't you think it's cute?
Sid: [Silence]
Me: You certainly don't want to poke your eye out like Ben, right?
Sid: [Silence]
Me: It's not THAT annoying, is it?
Sid: [Silence] ..... Yes, it's THAT annoying.
Me: Oh.

Short Story Sunday

Leigh's Pirate Tale
First Grade

I really wanted to tell the tale of Turkey the giant this week, but Sid picked the pirate story, I think because he appreciates little Leigh's love of luxury automobiles and material wealth. It sort of reminds me of a Jack Handy story - pointless with an abrupt ending.

Hi, my name is Leigh. I live in the ocean. I own a wonderful ship. I am not alone. These people are with me. Lauren, Stacy, David, Scott, Walter, Klye, Brittney and me. And here's how my story begens. Once upon a time there was a pirate named Leigh. She owned a ship with a bed and it had a manchen on top of it. Not only a manchen on the baetiful, wonderful, pretty ship. But a gorage with 3 farores, 6 Porshed and 21 Corvetts. Well you see don't you. She was the richest lady in history.