Late Night Discoveries

1. Our ice maker is REALLY loud.

2. Socks are wearable, quiet art.

3. I shouldn't have eaten those Oreos.



It has become habit for Eddie and I to eat breakfast in front of the computer. There's a tv in the room, so we can catch up on everything we need at once while having breakfast. Multi-tasking.

Inevitably, no matter my need to dispense with the clutter, there will be a pile of cereal bowls, pop tart plates and milk glasses that have been abandoned in haste to make it to work on time.

Sunday morning, I brought my Corn Pops to the desk and found an empty zip-loc bag in the place of a crumb-littered plate or empty cereal bowl. That bag looked suspiciously like the one we took home from a friend's house Saturday evening, where we watched LSU spank...some team. But it couldn't have been. THAT bag was filled with brownies when we left Andy's house. I have eaten no brownies. I can find NO brownies. The dog's not dead.

Somebody owes me a brownie.


Laundry Trophies, Yuppie Love and Out of the Pink

Every time I do the laundry, (usually every Saturday) I stack up the entire day's work of folded t-shirts, socks, shorts and unmentionables atop the washer and dryer. All the hang-up clothes are hung neatly on nearby door frames. I don't put anything in its proper place until all is finished. I like to survey all the laundry before that happens. I like to have it there as a testament to my hard work- a mountain of an accomplishment on most weekends.
I've always found joy in accomplishing and organizing things, especially long, drawn-out, tedious tasks. I never needed trophies. I don't like clutter.

In an ongoing effort to decrease clutter everywhere, we've recently given in to a trip to Best Buy and came home with a flat screen monitor. I LOVE IT. It replaced an older 19 inch behemoth. I feel like we've gained 10 square feet of the room.

That room has finally been finished. When we moved in over 3 years ago, I had A LOT of work in front of me. That room had all hot pink molding, including window sills and doors. There was a foot wide rocking horse wallpaper border on top of knotted pine paneling. In order for the border to lay flat, plaster was placed in the considerable grooves of the paneling ONLY underneath the border. Not only did I have to remove the border, (pain in the ass) I had to CHISEL the plaster from the grooves in order to paint the walls. This process was not a fast one. Only 2 rooms to go.

Pray for me.


Variety is Mandatory

I'm married. I love my husband and I will be with him for the rest of my life. It was an easy decision I made with my head and my heart. We even signed a Covenant Marriage contract because we're THAT sure. I know he's the one.


I can't commit to a morning cereal. I won't do it. We went to the store this evening and Corn Pops was the choice for the week. Last week: Wheat Chex. Week before: Cinnamon Life.

I've had Grape nuts, Cheerios with Strawberries, Honeynut Cheerios, regular Cheerios, Cap'n Crunch, Honey Smacks, Lucky Charms, Golden Grahams, Rice Chex, Honeycomb...I could fill the next 10 minutes with a list of cereals I've eaten, most on some kind of a food jag. I can usually commit for a week, maybe 2.

My commitment phobia is not limited to cereal. I can't even commit to a certain food. I've gone on toast jags (sometimes butter, sometimes jelly, sometimes peanut butter), pop tart jags (cherry or strawberry), frozen waffle jags (buttermilk, regular, whole grain) and yogurt jags (ALL flavors).

Maybe this will help.



This morning a person came up to introduce himself to me in Sunday school. He came forward, a little shy, with an out-stretched hand for me to shake.

"Hi, my name is Kelli."

"Hi Kelli, my name is Kristen. Nice to meet you."

He averted his eyes and looked instead at my left arm area.

-Awkward Pause-

His shaky right hand extends again but with the index finger a little farther out than all the others. He points to my right arm, so I instinctively look there. Nothing. I pretend to gather my belongings to head to the service.

"You have a sales tag hanging from your sweater."


"You have a sales tag hanging under your arm."

"Oh. Thanks."

I reached down and there it was. A big one. Of Course. My grandmother-in-law bought that sweater for me over a year ago and it has sat in my closet, just waiting to be worn, until this day. When you see something in your closet day after day and pass it over, it doesn't occur to you that when it is finally chosen that there MIGHT be a price tag on it. It's inconceivable.

During the class I had raised my arm to answer a question and draped it casually over the empty chair next to me. I probably waved at someone in the parking lot. "Hi. I'm the girl that got this on sale."


At least I know he loves me

Wow. I can't believe it's been almost a week since my last post. I think about what I'm going to post a lot of the time, but when I finally get a few minutes in front of the screen, I wind up feeling guilty about being here just knowing that I could be painting or cooking or cleaning or doing the lawn or organizing recipes or any number of things that I am now going to put off to write something trivial.

A couple of days ago Eddie and I were taking Cody for his evening walk. It's usually my responsibility, but now that it gets dark just shortly after lunch, my loving but over-protective husband likes to walk with me. I think I should just get a taser.

After Cody's business was concluded, we started the trek back home. Our street is protected by a canopy of trees, so it's usually pretty dark. Eddie put his arm around me and Cody led the way. It's hard to believe that a 22 pound dog can pull as hard as he can. Eddie put his arm around me, squeezed my shoulder and ran his hand down my back...right past the waistband of my sweatpants and grabbed my bare ass. In the middle of the street. He held it, cupped in his hand, long enough to say, "hiney."

Hiney in the street.



Thank you God, for the rain this afternoon. I didn't want it, definitely an inconvenience when I left the store with a full buggy for a car parked not-so-close, wearing ALL dry-clean only clothes.

But you knew.

You always know. My wiper fluid has been out for weeks and I had a damn dusty windshield. Thanks for helping me see clearly. Again.



Happy Birthday Katheryn.
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