My Re-reading List

I used to read all the time. Emphasis placed on "used to."

When I'd finish one book, I HAD to have another. It was like I was addicted to reading. I'd read and watch TV, and go to bed with a book, to read myself to sleep. There have been a few times, I actually read all night. Needing to read the next chapter would turn into the next chapter, and the next... Before I'd know it, it would be the next morning.

I'm embarrassed to say, I have driven with a book in my lap. When I stopped at a light, I'd read. The kids would tell me when the light turned green.

Recently, I learned Toni Morrison will be turning 80 this month. That's a great reason to read "Sula," again. Searching through my bookshelf, "A Lesson Before Dying," by Ernest Gaines, actually jump off the shelf at me. Before finding "Sula," I spotted the first Eric Jerome Dickey book I ever read, "Cheaters." I loved that book, and I fell in love with his writing after the first chapter!

I had to stop myself, three is about all I can handle for now. I was quickly on my way to books in my bag, on my night stand, and who knows where else waiting to be read.

One of my favorite question in magazine Q & A's: "What book(s) are you reading? Today I have an answer. A month ago, I could only be asked what blogs, or magazines I'm reading.

What's on your reading list?

Cutting Up!

I cut myself shaving! And it didn't feel so good! I started to blame BP, instead, I'm placing the blame where it should be, on Mr. Husband!

During the summer, I shave my legs more often. One because I have course hair, and it grows back like I put fertilizer in my lotion. Two, I want my legs to look nice and flawless. That big fleshy scrape, puts a damper on my sexiness!

Mr. Husband buys disposable razors in bulk from the local wholesale club. There are like 50 razors in that box. Instead of asking for one, I just help myself. Clearly, if he has a bunch of them he won't miss one every now and then. Right? Wrong!

Noticing his stash of razors were a little low, Mr. Husband got a little huffy, about HIS STUFF. In order to keep peace, and leave HIS razors alone, I bought my own. When shopping around for the right female razor, I looked at the color, shape of the handle, and the price. Those things are expensive.

I settled on a cute package of pink razors, with a great handle design, and reasonably priced. They were a little less than $4, for three. Instead of shaving every other day, I'm now having to shave everyday. It doesn't give me a close shave like Mr. Husband's brand. It's almost scratchy.

This morning while shaving my legs in the shower, I felt a little stick, then a sting. I cut myself! Not a little nick, but a one inch scrape. You can see the white flesh of my leg! Had I been using one of Mr. Husband's razors, this wouldn't have happened! So, like I said, the blame falls on him!

You know what this means. I'm throwing those dull, inexpensive (cheap) razors in the trash, and going back to sneaking Mr. Husband's razors. He'll get over it.
  

Celebrity Crush

Recently, I started watching 'The Unit." I can't believe I never watched it before. I love it! Since it has been on for awhile, I'm catching up on reruns. The AllState man plays Jonas Blane. I've never had a thing for older men, but the more I watch the show, the sexier he gets!

There's just something about a physically fit man, that can open a good can of whopass! Girly men don't do anything for me. I want a man that can protect me if necessary! I did find out his name is Dennis Haysbert. I can stop calling him, The AllState Man.

My other celebrity crush is Dahani Jones. That's him in the middle. Whew! He's #57, of the Cincinnati Bengals. Not only is he physically fit, look at those abs, he's smart, and articulate. Gotta have a man that can speak well, and express himself. I love his sense of style. He's a trend setter, who's outside of the box.

My third celebrity crush is Troy Polamalu, Pittsburgh Steelers #43.
Troy is one of the hardest hitting defensive players in the NFL. Last year, he played with a huge cast on his hand. He has the heart of a warrior. Although his voice is a little light, he'd never have to speak, just grunt!

What celebrities do you crush on, and why?

Nosey Neighbor Moving

Our 85 year old very nosey neighbor, is moving. When I say neighbor, she's not down, or across the street. She's right next door. Our driveways are an inch apart, and her kitchen window is on that side of the house. She sees, and hears ALL of our comings and goings.

How nosey is she?

Glad you asked. Grab a seat, and sit down. Right before we moved in, we brought our brad new mattress to the house. Before we were out of the truck good, we heard a little voice. "Who bought the house?"

We didn't see anyone, just heard a voice. Her patio is hidden behind seven feet tall shrubs, maybe they're trees. She was peeping, cloaked by the leaves. And that was only the beginning.

Once she was peeping so hard from her front door, she fell in her foyer, and broke her wrist. Any time a for sale sign went up on our block, she knew everything about the house. And before the new people moved in good, she knew who they were, and what they do for a living. I was starting to think she has a crystal ball over there. She's the oldest person on our block, and has lived there the longest.

Another time, a furniture truck pulled up at the house down the street. Mrs. Nosey came out of her house with a broom, and started sweeping her sidewalk. She couldn't get a good look from the door. I watched her sweep, sweep, stop and look. Sweep, sweep, stop and look. After a few reps, she finally just stopped sweeping, and with her hand on her hip stood and watched them take every piece from the truck.

I can say she's been a great watch dog, better than any alarm, or surveillance. And she is a really sweet lady. The kids love her, and she loves the kids. One summer afternoon, all the kids came in the house, and I was looking for Baby Girl. I ran outside, and there she was sitting on the swing with the neighbor, chatting it up like long time girl friends.

In the past seven years, our nosey neighbor, has become more than just a neighbor. She's become a really good friend. We're really going to miss her.

New neighbors can be like a box of chocolate, you never know what you're going to get.

What's Wrong With This Picture?

At the end of September, Baby girl turned 10. At my house, ten is the age kids start washing dishes. Why is ten the magic number? I have no clue.

October, Baby girl was thrown into the rotation. It goes from youngest to oldest. It's the best way to keep things in order. With five of them, they only have to wash dishes one week a month, and every fifth month they don't have to wash dishes at all! That's a pretty good deal!

When it's Baby girl's week, she will ask me to wash the pots and pans or the things that may be too greasy, or have baked on stuff that's difficult to remove. And that's okay, because I don't like eating THOSE KIND of leftovers.

This week is Baby girl's week, and I realized something. I wash just as many dishes as she does, if not more! Am I getting played or what?!

Randomness (Is That A Word?)

Okay, I needed to post something today. I've been so busy catching up on grading papers, making and giving finals this week, I just didn't have time to prepare a post. I'm feeling a little scattered, and thought I'd share those scattered thoughts with you. Even my picture is random, something I took, and thought it was nice. Here goes...

Baby girl is in the Christmas play tonight, she's one of the 'Hot Chocolate Dancers.' My son says they sound like strippers!

I finally found The Smell of Christmas, potpourri. Now that my house smells like Christmas, I have to put the tree, and decorations up! Last week was the week to do it, OMG, I'm so behind. Life happens, and there is only so much I can do! I forgot, I had a migraine three days last week.

Yes! I'm done with finals. Oh wait... I have to grade them all. May I have an easy button?!

Tomorrow is Fall Commencement! I pray we don't have a boring speaker. Dang, where is my cap, gown, and hood? I should have gotten it cleaned. No one will notice if it's a little dusty... and if they do, oh well!

It's so cold. I just have to hold on, Spring Break is around the corner. It's 14 weeks, and counting!

Hmmm, New Years Resolutions. Do I really want to torture myself?

See, I told you I was scattered. All over the place!

Going My Way?

Friday, school was out early for my three girls. Baby-girl is a car rider all the time, and the 12, and 13-year-old's ride the bus unless they have basketball practice. It was Friday, and there was no practice.

Breaking my neck to get to Baby-girls school, I received a text message from 13-year middle daughter, "School's out now."

I text her back one word, "BUS."

The Count Down Is On!

This is the ninth week of school, and next Monday is the second breakation since school started. We have only 24 more weeks until SPRING BREAK!!!


It's cooling down, and lately, we're almost in need of a boat it's rained so much. Already I'm missing summer, and the warm weather, seasonal fruit, and day light till late, it brings with it.

The closest thing to summer is Spring Break, and I'm counting down. I don't know what I want to do, or where I want to go yet. I've got my eyes open, and ear to the ground for ideas. My plans are on lock down, it will be a surprise for the whole family. Even if we just go 45 minutes away, for only three days, it has to be the BEST time EVER!

Ideas are welcome!

So, for the next 24 weeks/168 days, I'll continue to count down, and pine for Spring Break, while making the best of Fall and Winter.

Random Thoughts

Where in the world are my socks? In the Spring, I bought socks so that when I needed them I would have a pair to wear. My children have confiscated all of my socks. Now, I have to wear Mr. Husband's. That means the heels are on the on the back of my leg. Not a good look with capri warm-up pants.

I started saving the slithers of soap again. If I don't want Mr. Husband to throw them away I have to come up with something to do with them. I know it sounds a little pack rat-ish, but it's soap. Maybe if I melted them and pour it into a mold, we could save a little money on soap. I don't want to make lye soap or anything... Shoot, I don't know what I want to do with the stuff.

Come on... If I wasn't looking for a pink wig, they'd be all over the place! It's Halloween season for Pete's sake! Wal-Mart has green, purple, orange and blue. NO PINK! I can't wear any of those in the Race For The Cure. I went to a wig store. They had the UGLIEST long pink wig, for $25. Are you kidding me? I WILL have pink hair on Oct. 17, if I have to spray it pink!

Camo is for hunting, NOT softball uniforms. Since it's fall, they're not as concerned about real 'uniforms.' They are wearing a camouflage shirt with the teams name, with black shorts. I always thought it was not cute. It was already decided, and no one asked me ANYWAY. Last Saturday, we go to a softball tournament, and all the other teams looked like semi-pro teams that came to 'PLAY BALL.' Our girls looked like HILL BILLIES! I was so embarrassed.

Revive Again, and Again, and ...

Recently, I had a procedure that involved sedation. After arriving at the hospital, I had sign a stack forms, insurance, privacy act... The registration clerk asked if I had a living will.

Screeching halt... Skinny blond woman say what?

"Do. you. have. a living will?"

WTH? Do I have a living will?! It was a pain management PROCEDURE, not out patient SURGERY. Blonde lady so herself. I was being sedated, not given anesthesia.

Ashamed, but I had to admit, I do not have a living will. Mr. Husband and I discussed it at length, but haven't gotten around to doing so. "As long as someone knows your wishes," she says.

"My husband is here," I tell her. Then finally the lights coming on, and I realized what she was saying. I turned to Mr Husband, "Revive me again, and again, and again! None of that, 'she'd want to go on.' Revive me!"

I want to be resuscitated. On several occasions prior to this procedure, I've made my wishes clear, very clear. But I did reiterate it again. Dog-gonit, save me from the light!

My mother says she doesn't want to be resuscitated. "Just let me go," she says. Daddy and I are on the same page. Don't let me go so easy.

There were a few directives I needed Mr. Husband to know, JUST IN CASE. Keep my pictures out. The electricity and cable bills are due, and give my cell phone to twelve year old middle daughter. That covered it.