Day 212

In our town alone, I am sure there are well over 1000 teams of some kind of sport throughout the year. From the traditional games of softball and baseball, football (tackle and flag), soccer, basketball, to the less frequently thought of sports like lacrosse, there are teams for every age from Kindergarten to high school.

And for each of those teams, there is a coach. Many times, there is more than one coach. And for the vast majority of these teams, those coaches don't get paid squat

Zilch. Zero. Nada.

Ok most of them get a tihirt of some kind. But do you think that bothers them? Nope. Becasue they aren't doing it for money. Many of them have children on their teams, but some just love that particular sport and want to help others learn and enjoy it. And some even volunteer having never played the sport themselves, offering up their time because noone else would step up to the plate (ba-da-ching..).

Sure, there are varying degrees of skill and dedication amongst coaches, just like there is with any type of job force. Some years you feel lucky to have "such a great coach", while there may be times you and your kid are just trying to make it through the season.

Keep in mind though- they stepped up to the plate. Probably for free. They are bringing their kid to practice just like me, along with spending time figuring out who is best in what position and what type of plays/calls there are going to make. I ran around the track and then played games on my phone during football practice tonight. They didn't. They helped my kid learn something, have the opportunity to play a team sport, and be active.

I snapped today's picture during football practice. It represents the timeless moment between coach and player, no matter the sport. If you are a coach- remember that these kids literally look up to you and you have an amazing opportunity to help them in more ways than you may think. I am 39 years old and still have solid memories of so many of my coaches. I use some of their mantras, philosophies, lessons, etc to this day. And if you are a parent of a player, please remember that most of these guys and gals don't have an agenda- or paycheck. So try to thank them at some point other than the end of the season party, because I can only imagine what it is like to be out on the field instead of sitting on the sideline. I'm sure it's not as easy as it may seem. The two words "Thanks coach" probably go a lot farther than we think!

Day 211

The sun is shining, but guess where I am?

That's right- I'm in bed. I can literally see the sun rays on my bedspread, and a gentle afternoon breeze is rolling through my window. But instead of doing laundry, or running an errand, or even working in the yard, I have decided to take a nap.

That's right. I said it. I am taking a nap. I am going to push the guilt of dirty socks and weeds out of my mind for 20 minutes and allow myself to close my eyes an relax. Really. I'm not going to feel guilty about it at all...

Today's pic represents the guilty pleasure of an afternoon siesta, even if it means your kid has to wear the same socks two days on a row...

Day 210

Under the counter, in a cabinet full of bowls and colanders, lies a piece of equipment that has been an integral part of our family for many years.

Our red Coleman water jug.

Some have family china with their initials monogrammed on it, or cute salt and pepper shakers that have been around for as long as everyone can remember. We have these things at our house too (my favorite being a ceramic cow that my grandma used to let us pour our milk from), but the water cooler is a staple that signifies our family well.

That thing is on it's third kid. It's seen baseball, softball, soccer, and football fields. It's had our last name re-written with black Sharpie on the lid multiple times as it fades. It's been used as a sitting stool, rolled around in the back of a trunk, and generally abused for over 10 years.

This week the 11-year old started back to football practice 5 nights per week. So this morning I hauled out all the stuff that goes along with this fall sport- cleats, cup, mouthpiece, chin strap, practice pants, helmet, jerseys, first-aid kit, bug spray, blankets, chairs, etc. My once-empty trunk is now brimming with testosterone...

And last, but not least, I pulled out the faithful red water jug and filled it with ice water. Then I watched the 11-year old carry it to the field where his team is the oldest group of kids out there. Soon enough, I won't have a reason to pull out that water jug anymore. And to be honest, it will have as much sentimental ties to it as the ceramic cow.

Today's pic represents the beginning of another sport season, and how something as simple as a water cooler can be such an important part of a family.

Day 209

So I'm literally sitting at the computer, trying to think of what I'm going to write about tonight. I didn't have a horrible day, but nothing jumped out and grabbed me either.

Plus, to be honest, I was upset with myself in how I played at my volleyball game tonight, and in a funk about it. I really worked hard all summer on improving my setting, and had made a lot of improvement. Then tonight, when it really mattered (we had a good shot at first place), I just couldn't get my act together. At all.

Believe it or not, I am not a great loser. Especially if I feel that I had something to do with the loss. If somebody else screws up, I am usually fine with that. But I hate feeling like I let my team down.

I know. Boo hoo.

I texted a friend of mine that plays on my Friday night team about something random. I also told her how I had not played well tonight (I think my actual words were something like "I blew hairy balls at volleyball tonight". Or I could be paraphrasing. Either way you get my drift).

Now, most friends would respond in a typical "I'm sure it wasn't that bad" or "don't be so hard on yourself" way. Not this friend. Her response?

"Aww. Picture me humping your leg right now."

There was a pause in the texting...

Then she added, " Don't be upset, luv! Playing two sets is hard!"

She must have decided to revert back to the "typical" response when I didn't answer right away. And I will add that there is a bit of an inside joke there (our volleyball team is called "Bump and Grind"... ).But I didn't answer right away becuase I was laughing at her ridiculous first statement. It was just what I needed.

Today's pic represents the importance of having friends that can make you laugh. I am fortunate to have several friends who literally can make my face hurt from laughing after an evening with them. Laughter sometimes truly is the best medicine. And I am thankful to have friends who know when to coddle me...and when to say something ridiulous to shake me from a mood. Thanks, friend!

Day 208

Have you ever seen something or been somewhere and thought, " Now why didn't I think of that"?   Today was one of those days.

The 11-year old has been begging me to take him to a new place in our area called SkyZone. So, with dark skies prohibiting much outdoor play, I gave in and took both him and one of his friends on this new adventure.

When he was younger, birthday parties with "bouncy houses" were very popular. There's just something about jumping up and down that kids love. 

SkyZone takes that love of jumping to a whole new level. 

Having a trampoline in your backyard is something that most kids would view as awesome. SkyZone went with the theory that "more is better" . This place had at least a hundred trampolines, all connected to one another so that you could jump from one to the next. Even the walls were made of trampolines, allowing for acrobatics unimaginable in a backyard.

And jump they did. For an hour straight. They played dodgeball on trampolines. They played basketball on trampolines. They played leapfrog on trampolines. They jumped from trampolines into a pit of foam, much like jumping off a diving board into a swimming pool.

They were a sweaty, happy mess after their hour was up. "That was the fastest hour of my life", said his friend.

And the whole time they were jumping, I kept looking around and thinking, "Now why didn't I think of this?".

So now I know where we will most likely spend some time this winter. And in all honesty, I'd much rather they go play there than go to the movies,and it didn't cost me any more than that. There was already talk on the way home of talking siblings and friends into having their birthday parties there so they could go back. 

Today's pic represents that fun-when-you're-a-kid feeling in your head and stomach when you defy gravity, and discovering a new way to play that doesn't involve electronics!

Day 207

Training for my goal race continues. This week, I am in the "rest and test" phase. The focus is on testing your performance at race distance and pace. This gives you an idea of how you are coming along, and is actually a lot less work/time, since I'm not doing long endurance workouts.

It's also motivating. Day after day, I slog through seemingly never-ending drills and do longer rounds of swimming, biking, and running than I will have to do in my triathalon. But this week- I get to see all that hard work pay off.

I took 30 seconds off my best swim today at race distance. And then I kept a 9 min 44 sec pace for 5K. That's my fastest yet- I won't ever be in the Olympics, but my goal has simply been to get under a 10 min pace.  Yes, I ran on the nice flat bike path- but I did it in the middle of the hot day, so that has to count for something right?! 

If the weather permits, tomorrow I will test my bike, which is always my weak spot. And although I am realistic about my abilities, I am still hoping for a time that shows some improvement. 

Only three weeks left to go. And as I look forward in my training plan to what I have ahead of me (next week starts the "peak"session)--I am going to enjoy these last two days of "rest week"....

Today's pic represents the pride of reaching a hard-earned goal. Cross your fingers for me as I get on my bike tomorrow!

Day 206

I like to think that our house does a pretty good job about cooking actual meals most nights. I fully admit that my husband does at least half, if not more, of the cooking, as his schedule allows him to be home three to four days of the week.

But some nights, it's just plain not worth it. Neither of us feels like cooking, and peanut butter sandwiches just seems wrong.

So- pizza and beer it is. Or rather- carbs and carbs it is. And tonight I just don't care.

Unfortuantely, as I eat my second slice of pizza the health angel (or nazi, depending on how you look at it...) on my one shoulder is screaming visciously in my ear that I will be kicking myself as I run tommorow, and that our goal race is only a few weeks away.

Then there's the God of Glutton on my other shoulder. He just hands me some earplugs and pats me on the back.

Now some of you will laugh when you see what type of beer I am drinking. And laugh you may. Lord knows I always giggled inside when I worked at the movie theatre and a patron would order a large popcorn with extra extra extra butter and a "small diet coke please"...But the light beer is my compromise, and a way to keep the health angel from flying away and never coming back- leaving me with the God of Glutton and the good possibility of thunder thighs.

Tonight's pic represents no-brainer, no-cooking evenings where calories and carbs aren't counted, and guilt is pushed aside until that moment in the next day's workout where you think you may throw up. TGIF my friends- hope you are enjoying this beautiful evening with good food and a drink in your hand!

Day 205

I have been relatively lucky throughout most of my life in terms of skin ailments. I haven't ever had poison ivy, and have not had to deal with chronic conditions such as psoriasis or bad acne. I did have chicken pox as a teenager, and a round or two of hives associated with up close encounters with cats.

So, needless to say, I was totally unprepared for the attack on my flesh that happened in my parent's garden last week. I spent some time there while they were at the lake, staking tomato plants and trimming away dead leaves. During that session, some creature obviously decided to crawl into my clothing and have a smorgasbord.

It was a sneaky bastard though, as I didn't even realize the damage until I was getting into the shower that night. As I took off my clothes, I noted red marks on my belly. Looking closer, I saw more on my hips and-- good God my ass looked like a cup of scalding hot coffee had splashed on it and left a bunch of red marks!

Now remember, I am a nurse and my husband is a paramedic, and we both work with the public quite a bit. So my brain immediately assumed one of us had brought home bed bugs from work. I threw open the bathroom door and hollered at my husband to get out of bed. Turning the light on as he blinked back sleep, I started searching the covers and turning over the mattress, sure I was going to find something crawling.

"What. In the hell. Are you doing." my husband asked.

I lifted up my nightgown and pointed at my pock-stricken abdomen, panic in my eyes.

"Those aren't bed bugs you fool. They are either spider or chigger bites".

Great. Now I felt so much better. I mean, what the hell is a chigger, anyway? It sounds just as bad as "bed bug" to be honest.

But the more I thought about it, I realized I didn't have any bites on my extremities, so it most likely was something inside my clothing while I was working outside. Relieved, I went back to the bathroom and finished my shower.

Over the next few days, the bites turned into hives, spreading and itching like crazy. I now have a new respect for people who have had to deal with skin conditions throughout their life because I was miserable. And the bites were in horrible places- under my boob, along my groin line, and all over my rear end. Not exactly places I can scratch in public or at work without getting a look or two...

I went to Walmart and literally bought one of everything they had in the "anti-itch" aisle. Most of these were creams, and I lathered them on consistently, hoping to quell the urge to take my toothbrush to places it has never been before.... Yesterday, I finally started to really get worried, because the bites on my abdomen were getting worse instead of better. Which didn't make sense at first because those were the bites that I had been consistently applying cream to.

So I broke down and did something I rarely do-I asked my husband for his opinion. He took one look and said, " Calamine lotion and Benadryl. You need to dry them out". Huh- that made sense actually. I hate it when that happens.

Calamine was the one thing I had bought that day at Walmart that was still unopened. Why hadn't I used it? I don't know. Maybe because it was the "old school" treatment, and I thought the newer stuff would work better. I mean, I remember my mom and Grandma dotting my mosquito bites as a child with the pink liquid on a cotton ball. Back then, Calamine, Phisoderm, and Bacitracin fixed everything!

And sure enough, the next morning my hives were less raw, and I wasn't having to literally sit on my hands to prevent myself from scratching. I don't know who was more relieved- me or my toothbrush.

Today's picture represents an oldie but a goodie. Yes, the pink liquid gets on everything, including your clothes. But sometimes an old remedy is still the best. So now I will be sure to always have a bottle of Calamine lotion handy- it will sit right next to the Bacitracin on the bathroom shelf.

Day 204

Well, I have decided that I may not be a tomato goddess this year. All the rain we have had has given my plants a lot of fungus issues, and I'm just not seeing the results that I would like.

But my cucumbers, on the other hand, have been doing rather well.

So what do you do with a plethera of pickles? (I don't even know if I spelled "plethera" right- I just liked how it sounded with "pickles"...)

You make pickles, of course.

My first round is bread and butter pickles. I threw some hot peppers from my mom's garden in some of them too. And with each new adventure in growing my own food, I inevitably learn something.

Like (OMG!) you wouldn't believe how much sugar is in the mixture for bread and butter pickles. I closed my eyes as I poured the SIXTH cup of sugar into the water mixture. And you must be able to shove more cucumber slices in the jar than it originally seems, because there was a lot of dead space left once I poured the liquid in.

Oh, and pickle juice stains white porcelein sinks. I learned that too.

And now, we wait. Pickles don't happen immediately, after all. Nope. Learned that too. They have to sit in the fridge for at least 48 hours, which is torture for a family who could eat pickles with just about anything...

So tonight's pic celebrates the year's first round of canning, and the fun of learning something new. Cross your fingers that my cucumbers actually taste like pickles and not cucmbers dipped in vinegar and sugar!

Day 203

There is an award in the nursing world called The Daisy Award. It was founded by none other than the family of a patient who had a loved one hospitalized for eight weeks. His name was Patrick Barnes. During his hospitalization, they were so amazed and thankful of the care and compassion shown by the nursing staff, that they wanted to create a way to recognize nurses everywhere.

Hence, The Daisy Foundation was born.

What started out as a thank you program at one hospital is now recognized in over 1700 hospitals across all states in the U.S., and 11 other countries as well.

To receive this prestigious award, a patient, family member, or peer must submit a letter describing their experience with a particular nurse and why they believe he/she deserves the Daisy award. The best part about this award is that it's focus is not necessarily on clinical skill, although that of course is important. What the family who created this award wanted was to showcase strong patient care and compassion.

And that, my friends, is what nursing is about.

While Mr. Barnes was in the hospital, he was not eating very well at all. His family brought him a roll from Cinnabon, and he ate the entire thing. The next day he asked for another one, but told his family to bring enough for the whole nursing unit to have some too. So now, when the award winner is given their plaque, pin, and other awards, their whole unit is also presented with fresh rolls from Cinnabon, who has partenered with The Daisy Foundation to help ensure that all nurses that day feel a little special.

Today, a nurse from my unit received The Daisy Award. A patient's family wrote a letter which spoke of her compassion and how she was sure to keep all of them informed throughout their mother's prolonged hospital stay. It has always amazed me that people take the time to thank us after going through what is sometimes the most traumatic experience of their lives. Instead of just being thankful it is over- they take time out of their lives to send us cards, candy, flowers, etc. It's a true statement to how nursing impacts people's lives.

Our nurse was taken by suprise when she came out of her patient's room to find her parents, husband and four children waiting in the hallway with flowers in their hands. Her family got to hear both the  letter from the patient's family, as well as the story behind the Daisy Award- something I think is awesome. I loved watching her kids stand next to her while her picture was taken, and hope they remember the day that their mom was recognized for what she does when she leaves them at home for over 12 hours in one day- something most moms don't have to do.

Today's pic celebrates our superstar, as well as all nurses who have made a lifetime committment to helping others through the hard times. I love you all!

Day 202

After a long weekend at the lake, my toes were in serious need of a new layer of polish. I've been wearing red for awhile now, so I turned to my pink bottles and pulled one out.

And then I smiled. Because this particular bottle was given to me by a good friend who is well known for her love of pink. But even more importantly, she is known for her willingness to give to and help others in need.

I attained my pink polish at a party she threw at her house. It was one of those jewelry or home decor parties- I honestly can't even remember which one it was. Usually, people host these parties so that they can earn free stuff. 

Not this girl. She looked at it as a chance to raise money for the cancer association. Everything at the party was pink ( cupcakes, plates, etc) and we played games throughout the night that wound up raising money for breast cancer awareness. We each got gift bags, and my nail polish was inside mine.

She works for the Children's hospital fundraising group. She takes her son to homeless shelters to serve meals. She bakes cookies for the children in the he hospital at Christmas time. She has organized dinner parties to raise money and support for cancer. And more...

So tonight's pic represents supporting something that you believe in, and doing what you can to help others. She is someone I strive to be more like, and am proud to call her my friend. Pink power!

Day 201

"You wanna drive the boat?" Asks Grandpa.

Duh. 

What kid doesn't relish the chance to get behind a wheel? Yup, there's a reason bumper cars always have a line at the amusement park. Whether it's a bumper car, or the lawn mower, or a boat, getting their hands on the helm is fun-fun-fun.

The 11-year old got his first boat-driving lesson today, and he was grinning the entire time. When Grandpa asked if he knew which way to go to get home, he simply said, "I got this Grandpa". 

Today's pic represents the childhood excitement of getting to steer something. Another five years or so  and it will be vehicles not boats he will be driving- Lord help me.

Day 200

For once, early morning is my favorite time of day when I'm at the lake. I love to get up before anyone else and start the coffee pot, blinking the sleep from my eyes. Then, I take my steaming mug out to the back porch and let Mother Nature start her show for the day.

Wrapped in one of the handmade quilts my stepdad's mom made, sitting and looking at this view just never gets old. With nothing but the birds and an occasional fishing boat making noise, it's the perfect way to calmly start a day that will be filled with noise and people. 

And filled it was, with fishing, boating, swimming, four-wheeling, and tubing. I'm ending the day just as I started- on the back porch, except it's not coffee in my hand now...

Today's pic represents the peacefulness of a quiet moment alone stolen and shared only with Mother Nature. 

Day 199

Rain, rain, go away already!

Seriously, it has been one wet summer here. Today we drove to Lake Cumberland to spend the weekend with family. We pulled in the driveway to the cabin- and it started to rain.

We have 2 boys with us, and it didn't take long for them to get bored. Luckily, there was a break in the leaking skies, so we all scurried outside in search of earthworms for fishing later this weekend.

My husband and I went on night crawler patrol, and the boys took off towards the woods to explore. Soon enough, they returned asking for a Tupperware container, holding cupped hands out in front of them.

"Crap", I thought. 

"Whatcha find boys?"I asked warily. 

"Toads". Whew.

They had more success than we did, finding a total of 10 toads to put in their Tupperware container that we poked holes in. My husband and I only found a few worms big enough to skewer with a fishing hook. 

Oh, and we found a baby copperhead. That was adventurous. I might have screamed a little...

All 10 toads now have names, and there are plans to have toad races tomorrow. The next search involved finding bugs for them to eat- which is where I graciously bowed out. I figured dealing with worms and snakes was enough for any mom in one day.

So today's pic celebrates a child's fascination with "catching" Mother Nature. Whether it was fireflies or toads, almost all of us can say at one time in our life we had a jar or box with holes in the top. It's still raining this evening, but the boys are happily playing Monopoly and I have an umbrella- in my Piña Colada.....

Day 198

Whew boy, I am whooped. And I didn't even work out today! We are getting ready to leave for the lake tomorrow morning, and like most vacations, there are a ton of errands to do before you get to actually relax.

Took the 11-year old to camp. Cleaned three bathrooms. Got my oil changed. Went to the library, Sam's Club, Wal-mart, The Vitamin Store, pet store, and grocery.

Watered my parents garden. Harvested my garden. Cleaned the kitchen, vacuumed, mopped, and washed/put away about 8 loads of laundry- including the sheets to all the beds which I stripped and changed.

I still have to finish packing, but that can wait till tomorrow. I'm ready for bed! But I will rest well, knowing the person who is housesitting for us will have a clean toilet and food in the pantry.

Plus, I got to cross all sorts of things off lists today, which makes me feel accomplished and...well, happy. I think that's the way a lot of us feel after a full day of doing chores and errands though, isn't it? I mean, who actually enjoys scrubbing the bathtub? But there's something satisfying about finishing a job that you didn't really want to do. I feel that way about some of my workouts too- I start out dreading it and whining in my head about how I could be doing something more entertaining. But by the end I am glad I stuck it out and finished.

So today's pic was taken during my oil change, and represents crossing somethng off your list that you weren't looking forward to doing. Feeling a little defeated? Pick something small that you have been putting off for awhile- like dusting the blinds or cleaing out a closet. Then hammer through it- you'll be surprised at how good you will feeel. Nighty night!

Day 197

My older two step-kids played baseball and softball throughout their childhood and teenage years. Which means I spent A LOT of time watching baseball and softball. Sometimes they would both be playing on two teams each, meaning anywhere from 4-6 games per day.

It didn't matter that I was the step-mom or that sometimes my husband worked on days they had games, or that I lived 30 minutes away. If I didn't work- I was there, sitting in the bleachers with their mom showing a united front for both of them. In fact, there were many people who thought their mom and I were sisters or such, because it seemed unusual for us to get along so well. My husband admitted it was a little uncomfortable for him the first year or so, but after that it was common to see him sitting between the two of us, all of us catching up on both our own lives and what was going on with the kids between innings.

Our youngest is 10 years younger than his sister, and was born 6 weeks early. I can remember having to leave ball games early because I had to get back to the hospital and feed my baby, only to return for an evening game if one was scheduled. The 11-year old was out at the ball field from Week One, napping under the shade of trees in his stroller, or in the car seat where I had parked strategically to see the field. He spent his toddler years as bat boy for his brother's baseball team and playing with his Tonka Trucks in the sand. And his older brother and sister were so good with him- I can still remember when the oldest won a tournament, he came and picked his little brother up and carried him on his hip as they went out to get their trophies.

Now the oldest two are adults, and the youngest just hasn't shown a solid interest in baseball. Instead, I spend my days in basketball gyms and football fields, not sandy diamonds. And believe it or not, I miss it. I played softball as a young girl and even rec leagues as a young woman, and have always enjoyed watching others play.

So, instead of watching my own kids catch and throw, I get my fix attending games every once in a while of people that I know. I have several friends who are baseball or softball parents, and I like to take an afternoon now and then to go to a ballgame, which is how I got today's pic.

There's just something about the crack of the bat, the excitement of stealing a base, and the umpire hollering "Safe!" that I enjoy. And I have to admit that the stress level is reduced when your kid is not the one out there on the field...

Today' picture represents the all-American pastime, and salutes all parents who have made sacrifices to be sure and not miss a game.

Day 196

If there's one thing I have learned throughout the years of being a wife, mother, and manager it's this:

You've gotta pick your battles.

Because sometimes, it's just not worth the fight.

Laundry on the floor = battle lost. Holding one eyebrow up and looking at the pile while your husband runs around panicked in the morning looking for clean skivvies = war won.

Can't eat with your mouth over the table so you don't spill food on your clothes after being reminded a million times = battle lost. Making your matchy-matchy son go to school with a stain on the front of his shirt = war won.

Laundry on the floor? Wait, I already said that. Sorry - that's a hard battle not to fight for me.

The Mastiff chooses his battles too. Remember that hand made dog bed I painstakingly sewed for him? Well, you can see from tonight's picture who's benefiting from it this evening. There's probably room for both of them on there, but the mastiff is smart and knows that waking the beast may result in behavior that he would rather not deal with. Kind of like when your toddler (FINALLY) falls asleep in the car after a screaming escapade... as soon as you turn onto your street. Do you wake him up and take him inside, risking the tantrum to start all over again? Or do you lean your seat back in the driveway, close your eyes, and absolutely waste gas while sitting still and getting looks from your neighbors....hey. I don't judge.

Today's pic represents the difference between winning the battle versus the war, and the truth behind the statement, "Don't poke the bear".

Day 195

Last summer, we visited our good friends in West Virginia for the Fourth of July. This town goes all out for the all-american holiday, including a parade and 5K. My girlfriend's parents throw an annual barbecue, complete with a swimming pool, potato salad, and of course- fireworks. The kind which are totally legal of course....

Her step-dad is an avid gardener, having transformed their back and side yards into havens of color, most of which are actually perennials. Wandering to the side of the yard that is hardly ever seen by anyone, I noted an unusual-looking flower hiding along the ground. It was attached to a sort of vine, and was mostly buried in between other plants and shrubs.

Bending over and looking closer, I realized I was looking at the most intricate and interesting flower I had ever seen. And it smelled glorious. When I asked what it was, my friend's step dad replied that it is called a Passion Flower. 

Indeed.

It is almost erotic to look at for some reason, and the scent it gives off would put any flower-loving woman into high gear. He told me it grows on a sturdy vine that is almost impossible to kill, but there aren't a lot of flowers for the amount of plant that grows. Most people like flowery vines such as roses or wisteria. And I'm sure it must take a lot of energy to produce something so intricate!

He happily pulled some up by the roots and sent me home with my own baby Passion Flower vines to start at home. The vine came up quickly late this spring, but I have anxiously been awaiting the first bloom. I planted them directly next to my sitting area on the patio, with the hopes that someone sitting close by can enjoy it's heavenly aroma. Today, I was rewarded with a purple surprise half-hiding under one of the leaves.

This picture doesn't totally do the flower justice- I don't own a "real" camera. But you can at least get the idea of how different and unusual this flower is.Today's picture represents how sometimes quality is better than quantity, and the amazing things that Mother Nature creates!

Day 194

My step-daughter turned 21-years old today.

How the hell did that happen?

I know, I know. All parents have these moments when they realize how fast kids really do grow up. And in truth I am absolutely on board with her taking this next step into adulthood. She was always the responsible one  (minus a few years in teen hell), and I couldn't be prouder of the adult she has turned out to be.

Technically, she turned 21 at midnight last night. So, like many new legal drinkers, she made sure she was at a bar when the stroke of twelve came along.

The rest of her night is her story to tell, but I think many of us can remember our own first legal drinking night. Or, if you are like me, you remember only part of that night....

Tonight her family welcomed her into the legal drinking world at a local drinking staple- Elsa's. This is the home of the "Bad Juan" margarita, a true force to be reckoned with. The restaurant will not let you order more than three these days, an increase from the limit of two that was around when I first started going there.

I don't think there is anyone who lives in this area that doesn't have an Elsa's story. Maybe it was you that had a disagreement with Juan. Or maybe it was someone you were with that took the power of Juan too lightly. I myself can remember ending an evening with my then-fiance holding my hair back for the first time in our relationship. All I wanted to do was go to bed (aka pass out). I even had my pj's on- although I had admittedly pulled the drawer ALL the way out of the dresser and onto the floor when looking for the perfect pair...So  instead of letting me sleep (aka pass out) he took me outside in the February snow for a few minutes. Then he sat me on the couch with a large cup of water and told me that I couldn't go to bed until the cup was empty.

I promptly upended the cup onto the couch cushion next to me, stood up and handed him back the glass, and walked into the bedroom.

That'll teach him.

Tonight's pic celebrates a young adult milestone that many times comes with both pleasant and not-so-pleasant memories. Happy Birthday honey. I love you!

Day 193

Saturday is harvest day for my vegetable garden T-Th-Sat are harvest and prune days, M-W-F-Sun are watering days. I have a list spreadsheet to prove it. So,  I happily took my basket and scissors out towards the back of the yard, anxious to see what progress my babies had made over the last day or two.

The butternut squash are coming along nicely, and I was rewarded with both a yellow summer squash and a zucchini. I have two baby watermelons growing on their long, delicate vines, and there was both a jalapeno and green bell pepper ripe for picking.

Then I got to the cucumber plant.

Last year, I had planted a cucumber plant but only one baby cuke had grown. I think this was mostly because I had unknowingly planted it in a bad spot, buried behind tomato plants that blocked off the sun.

But this year, I am in cucumber heaven. I picked 4 large ones, to add to the two I already had in the fridge. I have decided I am going to try my hand at homemade pickles, and had bought both a pickle seasoning mix and the book Canning For Dummies last weekend.

Cucumbers grow on vines, and instead of having them grow out into the yard, I have trained them up a tomato cage. They seem to like hanging from the air, almost seeming to stretch longer and longer on a daily basis.

Now, if you were to go to the grocery store to buy a cucumber, chances are it would be rather straight. They line them all up on top of each other at the grocery I go to. Mine from the garden are all pretty straight as well-except for one.

My cucumbers hang from their vine like green icicles, and this particular one got big enough that it met the earth before it was done growing. So instead of stunting itself, it just changed it's direction of growth, therefore turning into a slightly curved product.

My husband was heading to a friends house, and I picked up the freshly picked cucumber and asked him to take it to his friend's wife for me as a gift.

There was an awkward silence as he looked from the cucumber- to me- to the cucumber- and back to me.

"Are you being serious?" he asked. I nodded my affirmation.

"I can't take something like that over there and hand it to my friend's wife!"

Confused, I said, "It's a cucumber!". Then I looked down at the emerald beauty, still glistening from being washed in the sink.

Now I understood. The cucumber's smart self-preservation mode of bending had turned it from an ordinary garden vegetable into an impressive phallic symbol (I mean, it was a good 8 inches long and at least 2 inches in diameter...).

"Oh...ok. I'll wait till I make the pickles and then give her some of those".

"Thank you", he said, with a hint of relief in his voice.

Today's picture represents success in the garden, and our brain's ability to turn a simple object into something else entirely. The good news is, those cucumbers should make nice big slices of pickles that will fit well on a hamburger!

Day 192

I lived in the suburbs of Columbus, Ohio up until the time I was in third grade. For those of you who may not know, Columbus is not only the home of the Buckeyes.

It is the home of Wendy's fast food.

Yes, the first Wendy's was- and still is- located in Columbus, Ohio. So as you can imagine, there is a Wendy's to match every Starbucks in town.

I can still remember asking every Sunday after church if we could go to Wendy's on the way home, because every once out of a hundred requests- it actually worked. I can still remember sitting in the way-back of the wood-paneled station wagon, happily eating my Kids Meal and Frosty. In general, if we got the rare treat of fast food, it was the little red-head with pigtails that won over the clown with big red feet every time.

Some things just never get old- and a Frosty is one of them. Rumor has it there are people out there that dunk their fries in them (ga-rosss), but there is something about a spoonful of pure chocolate Frosty that just makes me happy.

Of course some things have changed- you can now choose between chocolate or vanilla. They asked me which flavor I wanted, and I know they thought I had a senior moment, because I just stared at her blankly for a moment....They also have hamburgers on pretzels buns, as well as salads with grilled chicken and strawberries. But the staples of Singles, chili, and the infamous Frosty remain.

When I picked up the 11-year old from summer camp today he got in the car with that look on his face that all kids get when they want to ask for something...After some prodding, he sheepishly admitted to craving Wendy's for dinner.

"OH and we could get a Frosty!" he said, his eyes lighting up with delight.

When I told him yes, he got a look of distrust on his face.

"Really?"  Fast food is not something I usually agree to.

"Yup", I said, remembering fondly having that same reaction when my mom or grandma said yes to my hundredth plea from the back of the station wagon.

I am happy to say that he ordered water and a small fry with his million-calorie single cheeseburger ("since I'm getting a Frosty, Mom") without any prompting. And I have to admit that the strawberry and chicken salad I had was pretty tasty.

But we both knew what we were there for. The Frosty. Oh yeah. We shared one, hurriedly slurping down each spoonful so we could beat the other back to the cup- giggling and commenting on how good it tasted. I let him have the last dregs at the bottom, and threatened him with extra chores if he even thought about dipping a left-over french fry in the last couple of bites.

Today's pic represents passing along a little bit of tradition, and the fun of sharing dessert. Its a good thing it was spoons and not forks that we ate with...

Day 190

The door that connects my house to my garage must have been opened and closed over a dozen times tonight. The 11-year old and his neighborhood friends came in and out all evening, playing hide-n-seek and grabbing snacks or popsicles. There was a time when one of the boys came in the house when my 11-year old wasn't even home....he played around in his room for a bit then went back out to search for the others.

Why would a door slamming and letting in bugs make me happy?

Because I love to have people in my home. I love for people to feel comfortable in my home. It is so important to me to have friends for both the kids and adults who feel they can pretty much walk in my garage door to visit any time they want. I want my friends to know which drawer the silverware is in  and where the extra toilet paper rolls are at my house.

I always had neighbor kids in and out when our older children were young too. I used to always make enough dinner to ensure there would be some for whoever wandered by- a kid or a sometimes a bachelor firefighter that "just happened" to be in the neighborhood. I utilize the nights my husband is at work to drink wine and eat dessert with my girlfriends.

So come on over. But don't expect a perfect house when you do. My life is one full of clean laundry on the counter and dishes in the sink- but I'd much rather enjoy a summer evening playing cards with friends on the back patio than fold laundry. And don't worry- we will close the garage door if we are "busy"...

Day 189

The 11-year old and I were perusing movies, trying to select something that we both wanted to watch. Luckily, we both like action films. Unluckily, there weren't many available that we haven't already seen.

We came upon the latest Kevin Costner movie, "3 Days to Kill", which depicted the actor brandishing a pistol on the front cover.

"Who is that?" asked the 11-year old.

"That's Kevin Costner".

Again- "Who is that?"

Seriously?

"What other movies has he been in?"

I racked my brain, and came up with a slew of titles:

Bull Durham
WaterWorld
The Postman
Field of Dreams
The Bodyguard
Robin Hood
Tin Cup

And those were just off the top of my head.

He looked at me blankly.

"He was the dad in Man of Steel", I say.

Oh yeah!

Humph. Am I really that old? I can still remember my step-daughter asking me years ago who my favorite actor is. When I replied with Harrison Ford she looked shocked and disgusted. "He's old!", she cried.

Humph.

The 11-year old enjoyed the movie, and I was happy to see that Kevin still has some spunk, even though he admittedly is "the old guy" in this movie. He still kicks the bad guys butts though, and gets to kiss the girl. OK- he gets to kiss hte woman who has a teenage daughter... When it was over I told him, "See? Just because your Daddy and I like an actor that was mostly in movies you don't recognize doesn't mean that actor and their movies aren't good. There are plenty of movies made before 1990 that you would enjoy!"

This evening he came home from the library with 3 movies, two of which have one of his favorite actor (Adam Sandler) in it- Grown Ups 2 and Bedtime Stories. The third movie? A John Wayne flick. Yup- his Dad's all time favorite actor. As in his-first-born-son-is-named-after-him favorite actor....

Today's pic represents favorite actors and oldies-but-goodies. And yes, Harrison Ford is old. Now. But there is not denying that Hans Solo and Indiana Jones were just plain awesome.

Day 188

I have two new friends. Their names are Lenny and Larry. 

I have never met Lenny or Larry, but yet they are now a part of my life every day- through their cookies.

Yes, my friends, I said cookies. But not your ordinary cookies. These are vegan, no dairy, no high fructose corn syrup, packed-with-protein, yet somehow still soft and delicious cookies.

I struggle with breakfast. I mean- why would I get up 20 minutes earlier just so I can eat oatmeal (blah)?

I tried protein shakes for a long while, mixing them up before leaving the house and drinking them on my way to work. But I would be hungry in 3 hours and that plus my coffee made getting to work without peeing my pants a daily adventure...

Enter The Complete Cookie. At 420 calories, it's no worse than the shake I used to make, with 16 grams of protein. And, I'm not hungry for at least 4 hours.

And it's a cookie! For breakfast!

It reminds me of Bill Cosby, when he talks about feeding his kids chocolate cake for breakfast one morning- "Dad is great! He feeds us chocolate cake".

So today's pic celebrates dessert for breakfast. Because really- What kind of day could be bad when it's starts with a big chocolate cookie?

Day 187

The bike.

Ugh.

My worst sport in the triathalon world. It should be simple, right? Just push one foot in front of the other...

Wrong. So very , very wrong.

My long rides have been mostly on the bike path, due to it's nice straight and mostly flat surface. I am not very confident on the bike, especially changing gears and going down hills (road rash fear), so I have not allowed myself to be pushed to much in that area.

I have a girlfriend, though, who is an awesome biker (bikess? bike rider? ). My hard rides are her easy ones, and she has even traveled to France with her husband- not to go shopping and sip champagne. Nope. They toured the country on bicycles, even riding in some areas where the Tour de France runs through.

Today I rode with her for my long ride of the week- about an hour and a half. This was the first time I had ridden with anyone except my husband- and he rides so much faster than me it can't really be said that we ride "together". Today was my friend's recovery day (she rides 20-30 miles a day!!) so she was more than happy to let me set the pace and follow along.

I was admittedly a little nervous at first, knowing my fast pace would seem like a walk in the park for her. But as it turns out, it was my best ride yet- in several ways.

She took us off the bike path, down through the southern part of town that is beautiful and full of nature. We hit our first hill, and she suggested that I "gear down" because I was working too hard.

I absolutely agreed on the working too hard part, but since I was out of breath I couldn't immediately tell her that I didn't know how to gear down any lower. I have never ventured out of the gears on the right side of my handlebars, as I get confused and have been afraid I would lose the chain or crash.

She pulled up beside me and worked with me on how to change my gears, and- lo and behold- I WAS working too hard! Suddenly, I could get up a hill without my legs absolutely screaming at me, allowing me to push much harder throughout the overall bike ride. I usually "bonk" after 45 minutes and feel toasted, but today still had energy left after 90 minutes when we got home. This is so important in triathalon because you are faced with a 3 mile run once you get off the bike...

We missed a turn and got a teensy bit lost, but used the opportunity to stop, eat a snack, and gab a little while we checked our GPS. She gave me some more helpful hints about gearing and caring for my bike, then we took off for the second leg of the journey.

We made one more stop before getting back home, again mixing bike talk and girl talk. I couldn't believe how much that one ride with her had helped me, and thanked her again for all her help and patience. At one point she even asked me, "Why didn't you just call me when you had questions?"

I don't know.

Stupidity? Ignorance? Pride?

Why did I have such trouble asking for help when it only lived one mile away?

I learned a hard lesson today. I think the older we get, the more trouble we have starting something new that we haven't done before. And once we start, we aren't as apt to ask others for advice. I mean, what have you done lately that is new and adventurous? We have such capacity as humans to learn- we should take more advantage of it! We let our fear of embarrassment or looking foolish get in the way! Take a cooking class, or learn how to crochet. Take a ballroom dance class, or even learn to scuba dive. Have you ever ridden a horse?  Played golf? There is so much out there in the world, much more than what you can learn on Facebook or Instagram...

Today's pic represents learning that it's ok not to be good at everything and to have someone help you. Don't hold yourself back from new experiences or getting better at something just because you don't want to look or feel stupid. Most people are more than happy to share their knowledge and help someone else along. So go learn or do something new and/or uncomfortable- you may be surprised at how good you feel afterward, even if you wind up looking a little bit awkward :).

Day 186

The 11-year old, much to his dismay, has a reading assignment over the summer. All of the children going into the 6th grade must read The Wizard of Oz before school starts. He tried to convince me it was "optional", but unfortunately his mother knows how to get on the school web site and look for herself...

So off we went to the bookstore, in search of a yellow brick road and The Great Wizard. And despite the moans and groans on the way there, as soon as we walked through the doors he said, "I like this store".

It's true. He's always loved the library and book stores, even when he was a toddler. We would literally go every day to one or the other- mostly because it was free entertainment, but also because he just seemed to like it. We would read books and do puzzles, play word games on the computers, and come home with a new treasure to read before bedtime.

These days, he's graduated from Goodnight Moon to the teen section, looking for series named "Warrior" or "Survivor". But we both also enjoy browsing the large sections at the front of the store that hold displays of all sorts of books grouped together by categories. Many of them are the kind of books you find on coffee tables- conversation starters and time-passers.

There are all sorts of books grouped together on cars, architecture and travel, planes, food, history, etc. I have always thought that whoever is in charge of these displays does an excellent job, because hardly a person goes by that doesn't stop and flip through at least one book in this section before making their way to the cash register.

My son tends to meander towards the history section- like father like son. I perused through a "Wonders of the World" book that talked about The Empire State Building (did you know they used to have those windows all cleaned by hand??) and The Imperial Palace, then wandered over to see what he had found. A book which depicted the different uniforms of soldiers throughout history was open, and he had moved on to a book which described the different Special Forces.

Looking casually down at the table in front of me, I noticed the two books in my picture stacked next to each other. I paused, then giggled and looked around to see if anyone noticed. I mean, was this a joke? A stack of books by the Dalai Lama was placed next to another stack- the Small Arms Visual Encyclopedia.....even the look on the Dalai Lama's face seemed to be looking at me and saying, " I know right? This is fresh, isn't it?" I mean, the glasses he had on kind of looked like the yellow ones people wear when they are shooting guns at the range but....yeah I doubt that was his intention.

I pulled out my phone and snapped a pic. And yes, I picked up the Dalai Lama book and flipped through it. So maybe it wasn't a mistake to put it there- I probably never would have given it a second look if it hadn't been placed where it was.

Today's pic represents how opposites attract, and how what can seem like a mistake at first  may actually turn out to be a positive outcome. Because I bought the Dalai Lama book. I'll let you know What Matters Most...

Day 185

The Fourth of July. A day to celebrate our country, family, and friends. A day of cookouts, swimming pools, and fireworks.

And don't forget the Monster Croquette.

What is Monster Croquette you ask?

Imagine the usual yard game with mallets and colored balls. 

Now reimagine it with bowling balls and sledgehammers. Yeah- it was awesome. 

Loud. But awesome.

There was also corn hole and Friquett, swimming, sparklers, glow sticks, fireworks,  and of course, Hairy Buffalo. 

Today's picture represents the fact that we are so lucky to have the freedom to enjoy fireworks and Hairy Buffalo. Happy Birthday America. 

Day 184

Thursday night. No work tomorrow. And no children in the house...

You know what that means- date night.

And what a perfect evening for it. The humidity of the last few days has left and it almost feels like late summer, instead of the beginning.

My husband and I went to dinner by ourselves. Yeah, we ate pizza and beer- but it was fancy pizza and beer. Really. It was.

We walked around our local outdoor mall, holding hands and shopping for Baby G. There was music playing in the mall's courtyard, and people taking advantage of the outdoor dining areas at the local restaurants. 

We took our time, no agenda or plan. We talked about things we usually don't have the time or energy to discuss.  

Yeah it's 9 o'clock and I'm home in my yoga pants. But my husband is on the couch with me, and we are getting ready to watch a movie. A Jason Statham movie, which is win-win for both of us.

Tonight's pic represents a quiet night both out and in with the person you love. 

Day 183

If I had a dollar for every dressing room I've ever been in, I would be one rich lady. I love trying on clothes.

But tonight, I got to watch one of my friends try on clothes. And that was almost as much fun!

Tonight's pic celebrates shopping with girlfriends, and the fun of trying on clothes!

Day 182

I remember when I first started talking to boys on the phone. I would drag the one phone we had in the entire house into the basement bedroom and close the door, being sure not to dislodge the cord from the wall. 

Them I would dial  the phone number using the circular, rotary dial and talk on the receiver that was connected to the base by yet another cord...

Tonight I heard the 11-year old talking to someone as I walked by his room. I poked my head through his bedroom door, but it was just him in there, sitting on his bed.

"Who are you talking to?" I asked.

I got the "oh-my-gosh-mom-you-are-so-embarrassing" look. He actually tried to shoo me away with his hands...

It was then that I realized he had my IPad on his bed. Turns out he was "talking" to a girl on FaceTime. 

My how times have changed.

I did the universal sign for "geez-sorry- I-didn't-know!" and backed out of the room.  I checked my emotions to see how I felt about him talking to a girl, but only discovered it made me smile. 

"And so it begins.." I thought to myself.

Tonight's pic represents how some things change....and some things don't :).