I cannot begin to do it justice

I took the photo above on our first morning there. Everyone was still sleeping when I took a little walk around my brother's extensive garden. Perfect lighting, saturated colors and silence made it the perfect way to begin my day.


Somehow whenever we began planning a trip to Asheville to visit my two brothers and their families I got so lost in the journey to get there that I forgot how wonderful it would be actually being there. Finding maps, packing coolers, gasing cars, prepping cat sitters. . . I was too caught up in the details of travel.


And maybe that's why I was so surprised at the emotion of just being with them. At times it was more than this girl could handle. Simply being near those that know you best, sharing time with the two people who come from whence you come, and being able to see them in their natural habitat, the lives that they have built, makes me openly emotional and weepy.


Forgive me, if for the sake of prosperity, I provide a detailed rundown of the past few days. As I type this, I know that I cannot do it justice. I cannot adequately describe the beauty of the Asheville area, the mountains, the gardens, the art. I know that I cannot relay to you how much it meant to be with my family, to be with Cynical in this very unique and inviting place. I will not be able to tell you how my heart, much like the Grinch's, grew and grew and grew whenever I laid my eyes upon my niece and nephews. So, let me give you the logistical and clinical view, but know that underneath is more emotion, more than I will ever be able to wrap my mind around.


Cynical and I packed up early on Friday morning and hit the road to Asheville. The trip went quickly, thanks to a plethora of CDs, snacks and a cooler (remember me being so caught up in the logistics, sometimes that pays off). Stops along the way also broke up the seven-hours on the road. We even managed to hit an outlet mall somewhere between here and there. Every traveler needs a new pair of jeans, right?


Bro P and his bride-to-be Artist J had graciously offered to host us during our stay and to be our guides. Their home is colorful, welcoming, unique, creative and comfortable. We unloaded and headed out to Tomato Cocina Latina for some dinner. Mmmmmmm. Our guides then took us to a backyard gelato/sorbetto stand. Watermelon gelatto. . . just what we needed on a hot summer evening.


And then we trekked to Bro D's house where we met Prince R for the very firs time. . . what a beautiful, chubby, red-headed baby. He's so very sweet and so incredibly perfect. Adored by all, including his "big" sister, Princess S. It amazes me how precious it is to hold a baby. And to see my youngest brother with his little family is moving and inspiring.


Realizing that babies and two-year-olds need sleep, we went home and soon thereafter turned into bed. We had a big day ahead.

One of the many things we reluctantly left behind at the stuff store.

On Saturday, Artist J prepared an incredible breakfast and soon thereafter we headed out to some antique/collectible spots. We met up with my youngest brother and all went for lunch at Mamacita's. Mmmmmexicano. Later we found ourselves meandering around the Screen Door, yet another interesting shopping spot.

Yarn Paradise, Asheville

In the midst of it all, we managed to hit a yarn shoppe, Yarn Paradise where I scored some Koigu, my first Koigu yarn as a matter of fact.

Bruschetta with fresh mozarella, home-grown, organic tomatoes and basil.

Babies also need naps, so we parted ways and those of us of age started preparing a big dinner in celebration of Bro D's birthday. Bro P's extensive garden provided the bounty for the meal. Artist J provided the expertise. Ocra, tomatoes, bruschetta, local wine, fresh peach pie, grit patties, squash casserole. . . . .

Wine chilling in antipation of our celebration.

The food was wonderful, but perhaps what made it most meaningful was all of us, in the same household, recalling similar memories and sharing time together. As we recounted some of our most embarrassing moments, shared some memories we had never verbalized before and laughed and cried, I was overwhelmed with how much I miss my brothers. I missed being part of their daily lives. I missed knowing all about who they had become.


I have a lot to say about that night we spent in Bro P's living room, all of us having just dined on a meal we prepared in unison, talking and sharing, opening up and being together. . . but I don't know if I'll ever be able to verbalize it. Sometimes feelings are that way. . . difficult to describe and boil down into simple sentences.


We stayed up too late, ate too much food and made too big of a mess. We finally collapsed into bed, wondering what our Sunday would hold.

Purl's Yarn Emporium, Asheville

And our Sunday held so much. We nabbed breakfast at the City Bakery, met up with the little ones and I held that baby, that sweet, sweet baby.


Realizing that the yarn shoppes in Asheville are open on Sundays, we made a stop at Purl's Yarn Emporium, where spied some more Cascade Fixation in earthtones and a skein of gray Trekking Pro Natura. At the Earth Guild I snagged some Manos in wine and some Gems sock yarn in French Blue and Burgundy.

Wading in the cool, clear waters.

We later headed to the Blue Ridge Parkway for a view of the mountains, where we stopped at Graveyard Fields for a hike amongst the Rhododendrum forest and some wading in a beatifully clean stream and waterfall.

A shot of a portion of the stream moving through Graveyard Fields.

Cynical and I sat in bewilderment at the beauty, while Bro P and my nephew Prince E swam in the clear pool of water. On our way back up the trail, they stopped and picked fresh blueberries which accompanied us on our trip home. Cynical and I sat together, watching the sunset over the mountains, in awe of the incredible peacefulness. It was truly breath-taking, as in it literally took my breath away, I think I gasped at the view. As we were in the Pisgah area, we stopped at the inn there for an incredible view of the mountains and an exquisite dinner.

Alice, the true hostess, slept with us one night while we visited Asheville.

So very tired, once we finished maneuvering through the winding roads, we parted ways as Cynical and I headed for our hotel and Bro P and his family turned in for the night.


We arose a little later than expected this morning and I reluctantly took my spot in the passenger seat. About seven hours, three stops and a fruitful visit to a used book store later and we were once again home. Loads of laundry, a list of chores and a work week ahead are not enough to distract me from reliving our weekend over and over again in my head. Forgive me, my mind and heart are still in Asheville.

Around here we stay up very, very late

Around here. . . at Chez Ragged, we are nothing if not impulsive.

Thursday afternoon I landed some free tickets to a Counting Crows, Live and Collective Soul concert in Louisville.

On Friday, we left work early, and made the two hour trek east to the concert. We braved rush hour traffic, the 95-degree temperature and beating sun. . . and loved every minute of it. We stayed up much too late, we got home in the wee hours of the morning, we were tired, sweaty and worn out, but no one said that impulsive behavior was easy.

I had a whole diatribe planned about how simply hearing the Counting Crows takes me back to a very happy and simple place and time in my life. I had wanted to write about how I listened to "August and Everything After" over and over and over again; how it had become the soundtrack to one summer and fall many years ago.

Instead, let's just say that when I heard my buddy Adam sing "Long December", I was nearly brought to tears. Because "If you think that I could be forgiven. . . I wish you would" is perhaps one of the most touching lyrical phrases I have ever heard.

And contrary to what you may read elsewhere, there was no indecent exposure, no flashing of the flesh, but there was a little alcohol consumption, which I'll blame on the intense heat and my need for hydration. I am, afterall, a Girl Scout.

Life is all about the randomness of things

That's really just an excuse because I have nothing of any importance to share, so I'll just ramble with some randomness:

-We are going to travel! Yep, going north to visit friends and family the weekend before the 4th of July. . . and am I ever ready.

-Due to some dietary restrictions I can no longer have strawberries. I miss strawberries. No fair! (Said as I stomp my foot.) I have caught myself just reading recipes involving them. Sick, isn't it?

-It's movie season for me and my viewing buddy. Last night it was "Knocked Up" and tonight it's "Pirates of the Caribbean". (Omigosh, I do so love Paul Rudd. . . is it wrong that he's all I could focus on during "Knocked Up"?)

-So addicted to "Rehab" by Amy Winehouse. . . can't stop singing it. Can Methodone help with that?

-I think I actually repaired my Rusted Root. Keep your fingers and needles crossed.

-I am sooooo ready for a vacation. . . anywhere. . . any length of time. . . just a chance to get away. Unfortunately it looks like that won't be for a while. . . (Cut to me sighing.)

It's the little things. . .

like hearing "Boys of Summer" on the radio as you drive into work.

I've lost that creative feeling (and let's consider a trade)

Somehow I misplaced my creative inspiration. I know it's out there somewhere, tucked into the back of a drawer, stuffed underneath one of the nine bridesmaids dresses that could potentially be hanging in my closet or hidden amongst my 139 pair of socks.

And in my quest to find my mojo, I thought I'd solicit a little assistance from you guys. I am hopeful that perhaps some music might be the key to leading me back to my crafting and creative muse.

So, tell me, what music inspires you? What song or artists gets those creative juices flowing?

And I am considering putting together my own CD of "tunes to create by". And maybe we can talk about a trade.

It must be luv

I like to mark special occasions with music. And by that I mean I tend to recall a particular point in time not through scent or even sight, but often what was playing in the background on the day I fell in love, had my first wreck or was scared to death when someone shook the porta-potty at the Jimmy Buffet concert many years ago.

I have continued this line of thinking when it comes to holidays at Chez Ragged. That being said, I have prepared the official 2007 Valentine's CD: It Must Be Luv: Songs of true luv and everything in between.

This CD celebrates not only the wonders of falling in love (stalking one another, not minding if your beloved calls you "Pookie bear" or "Sweetiekins" or long walks on the beach when you were actually able to hold hands without one of you saying, "Quit twisting my arm that way.") but also the underbelly of love, the falling out of it (demanding that he give back your copy of Madonna's Greatest Hits, throwing his letter jacked at him in the parking lot at school).

So, you may notice a bit of a twisted mix of songs on the 2007 version, which was greatly influenced by some of the ups and downs some of my friends are experiencing in the world of relationships these days.

If you are game, I am up for trading. Send me your CD of tunes that scream of love and love-gone wrong and we have a deal. Just e-mail me at raggedaroundtheedges(at)hotmail(dot)com.

Oh, and here's the songlist:

Anniversary Song by The Cowboy Junkies
One line says it all: "And I'll wear your ring".

Crash by the Dave Matthews Band
Come on, this is a hot song.

Here With Me by Dido
Just enough darkness to make it loverly.

I’ll Take Care of You by The Dixie Chicks
That's what it's all about.

Icecream by Sarah McLachlan
Better than icecream, I dunno, but she sounds convincing.

If You Could Only See by Tonic
A man turning down temptation out of pity for his beloved. So sweet.

Jackson by Johnny and June Carter Cash
Hotter than a pepper sprout. Enough said.

Jealousy by Natalie Merchant
Oooooh, jealousy. . . . the really dark underbelly of luv.

Let’s Stay Together by Al Green
I love this song and it's sentiment. I'm feeling all sappy now.

Love Shack by The B52s
Chez Ragged is the Love Shack, make no mistake.

Mandy by Barry Manilow
She came and she gave without taking, now that's luv.

Name by The Goo Goo Dolls
He'll even let you be nameless.

Some for the Dumped by The Ben Folds Five
The perfect break-up song. Give me back my black t-shirt.

Sonja by Lyle Lovett
He loves his waitress and he's all giddy about it.

Steal My Kisses by Ben Harper
Everybody steals kisses and no one ever gets convicted.

Trees by Marty Casey & The Lovehammers
You and me, up in the trees. Enough said.

Trouble Me by The 10,000 Maniacs
This is actually our song. And I got all sappy just typing it out.

True Companion by Marc Cohn
I'm tearing up just thinking about this song. Everyone deserves a true companion.

When It Don’t Come Easy by Patty Griffin
If you forget my love, I'll try to remind you. Enough said.

You & I Both by Jason Mraz
And you know, even if it doesn't work out, you know you loved and that's enough. Right!

You’re the One that I Want by Olivia Newton-John/John Travolta
'Cause in the end, he's the one that I want.

*Edited to add, the Dave Matthews Band song is actually "Crash Into Me", but at Chez Ragged, I tend to shorten the title when talking about how "hot" it is. I should have let ya know that in advance. Sorry.

The sound of music

Tonight has been one of those odd evenings. One of those nights where I am out of my regular rhythm, out of sorts, if you will. I had big plans for how I'd waste away my few hours free from work and sleep. However, it seems the best laid plans were, well, laid aside.

After a few errands, I came into the house without any real idea of what I wanted to do. So, I meandered around from room to room aimlessly doing this or that, but really doing nothing at all, until I finally came across my mail, set out neatly for me by my dear Cynical.

And there I found a CD sent to me by a very thoughtful Madretz. It's her very own version of a Valentine CD. Such an eclectic mix; so intriguing, so sweet and funny. Just as a good CD should be. I have already tucked it into the bag I take to work each day. It will accompany me as I make my way to and fro to the office this week and next, I am certain. You are right, Madretz, love rocks.

And that prompted me to wrap up my own version of a St. Valentine's Day compilation, begun long ago, but never quite finished. I ended up with a strange mix, I must admit. A bit twisted in fact, but isn't that the best part of luv and all that sappy stuff? I opted to also include some songs that depict the underbelly of what some mistake as love, 'cause there are some of you out there that remember that part all too well. And what's a sappy CD without "Song for the Dumped" by Ben Folds Five.

And as it was burning, I found myself hungry to listen to mixed tapes in my own collection, one in particular. A while back I had been given a CD by my dear brother. Things were a bit rocky for both of us and I am not certain, in all honesty, that I listened to it at all, as I was too bitter, angry and hateful to be patient enough to settle down and enjoy it.

In a panic, I dug through my collection and couldn't find it. I was heartbroken and guilt-ridden. And then I discovered it, tucked between two old compilations. Sometimes obsessive-compulsive tendencies can pay off.

And I popped it in the computer and it's playing as I type. Each song was obviously chosen with purpose and reason. And I am thinking now, would it have made a difference all that time ago. . . would I have been quicker to forgive and forget. Music can do that sort of thing.

Wow, Madretz, I bet you never thought your CD would spur all of that, eh?

Today is a good day

I can't pin down exactly why I think that today is a good day, but there are several little factors that are making for a good mood including:

-Little snow flurries dancing outside my window.

-The impending release of Children Running Through, the newest CD by Patty Griffin.

-The completion of my first Jaywalker Sock and a third in a series of gift scarves made out of Misti Alpaca Chunky. (The trio reminds me of neopolitan icecream: Pretty in Pink, Natural Brown, Natural Cream.)

-Warm vanilla latte on my desk.

-A good night's sleep.

Continuing with the music theme

1. Of all the bands/artists in your cd/record collection, which one do you own the most albums by? It's probably a toss up between Counting Crows, Cowboy Junkies, Dave Matthews Band.

2. What was the last song you listened to? Mat Kearney, Nothing Left to Lose

3. What's in your record/CD player right now? OK Go

4. Do you know what music the person before you is into?I lifted this from Emily, and I suspect our tastes are pretty similar.

5. What's your favorite local band? Nada

6. What was the last album you bought? I went through a bit of a music spree recently, so I think it would be G Love: Lemonade; The Decemberists: The Crane Wife; John Legend: Once Again; The Killers: Sam's Town; Mat Kearney: Nothing Left to Lose.

7. What was the greatest show you've ever been to? This is a tough one. I should be good and say "Hootie in the Blowfish" because I had just started dating my beloved and we danced barefoot in the rain at this one. However, I think I was most pumped about Lillith Fair, 'cause of it having such a diverse group of performers; I don't want to leave out James Taylor, I couldn't have been more relaxed.

8. What's the worst band you've ever seen in concert? Lucinda Williams. Sorry, Lucy.

9. What band do you love musically but hate the members of? Hate is a strong word.

10. What is the most musically involved you have ever been? I took piano lessons.

11. What shows are you looking forward to? I'd love to see Lenny Kravitz.

12. What is your favorite band shirt? B-52s Love Shack Tour.

13. What musician would you like to hang out with for a day? Lenny Kravitz

14. What musician would you sleep with in a heart beat? Lenny Kravitz (He's on my "list" of 5, so it's ok.)

15. Are u a stalker?Nah.

16. Sabbath or solo Ozzy?Ozzy.

17. 80's Madonna or Kabbalah Esther? 80s Madonna

18. Punk rock, hip hop or heavy metal? A little bit of each

19. Name 3 timeless records or artists?Johnny Cash, Roy Orbison, Rolling Stones

20. Name 3 artists that suck?Celine Dion, Mariah Carey, Celine Dion.

21. Did you know that filling out this survey makes you a music geek? What about it?

22. What was the greatest decade for music? I love it all, but of course, the 80s are near and dear.

23. How many music-related videos/dvds do you own?Grease and the Sound of Music

24. Do you like Journey?Maybe.

25. Don't try to pretend you don't!

26. What is your favorite movie soundtrack? Grease or maybe Elizabethtown.

Who will save your soul?

Your 1996 Theme Song Is: Who Will Save Your Soul by Jewel

Who will save your soul when it comes to the flower Who will save your soul after all the lies that you told, boy Who will save your soul if you won't save your own?

What's Your 1996 Theme Song?

I actually bought this album on tape when it first came out and forced it upon poor Cynical. I am not certain he has forgiven me yet.

Bring on the noise

In 2001 I started something that has become a little bit of a tradition at Chez Ragged. It was then that I began making an annual compilation Christmas CD. I suspect this grew out of my angst over having to skip through other CDs in search of my favorites. That and the fact that I probably have accumulated nearly 50 holiday discs. I decided to share the love that year and made covers and copies for each of my loved ones. When 2002 came around, they asked for more of the same, hence a tradition was born.

Last week I managed to decide upon the selections for my 2006 Christmas CD. It gets tougher each year, trying not to repeat old favorites, finding the right mix of funky and traditional. I hope I managed to do that on this version. Time will tell.

If I had my way, though, everyone would listen repeatedly to Sarah McLachlan's "Wintersong", it is perhaps my favoritist compilation of winteresque songs. You must own it. You must.

Included on the current disc are:

River by James Taylor
Soulful Christmas by James Brown
Donde Esta Santa Claus? by Guster
Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas by The Pretenders
It Came Upon A Midnight Clear by Sixpence None The Richer
O Come All Ye Faithful by Luther Vandross
Blue Christmas by Chris Isaak
What Child is This? by Sarah McLachlan
Silent Night by Tony Bennett
O Holy Night by Bing Crosby
Christmas Time Is Here by Sarah McLachlan & Diana Krall
God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen by Jim Brickman

I might be persuaded to do a bit of a music exchange if anyone is interested. The 2006 Ragged Christmas CD for your very own compilation, holiday-oriented or otherwise. . . any takers? E-mail me at raggedaroundtheedges (at) hotmail (dot) com

And remember: James Brown loves ya.

A moment to stop and smell the music

It seems that I when I like something: I really like it. And this applies to my music.

I have been a long time fan of the Dixie Chicks. That's not such a popular thing in these here parts, but alas, I cannot deny the three ladies and I rushed out the day their CD hit the shelves at Target and purchased it with my hard-earned money. I am aligned with them politically. I am connected to them musically. Speak with your spending, not with a hateful letter, smashed CD case or ridiculous t-shirt. Let's leave it at that.

Cynical and I don't share the same musical tastes as he is inhabited by a black woman with incredible vocal range. I, however, have been following the cult of singer-songwriter. We both, however are fans of the Chicks. I am also a fan of Patty Griffin and well, the Chicks often sing her songs, so there's an even stronger connection between me and the trio.

I was not disappointed. I knew I wouldn't be. From the make no apologies/take no prisoners response to criticism of comments made by Ms. Natalie in "Not Ready to Make Nice" to the sad, sad sentiment of "Silent House", I luvved it all. The music is powerful. The lyrics are strong and brazen. I expected nothing less and I invite you to take a listen. . . put your politics aside and listen. Listen to the pain. Listen to the lullaby. Listen to the incredible work of three very talented and sensitive songwriters and artists.

He makes me happy

Inside this case is pure happiness for me. Whenever I found the two-disc set on sale at Target, I nearly lifted it above my head and danced. I refrained, fearing that they'd bar me from ever entering the store again and that would not make me happy.

This find made me so happy in fact that I sat in the parking lot ripping it open with my teeth all so I could listen to it on the ride home.

(Thus far the faves are "Happy Everafter in Your Eyes" and "Reason to Mourn".)

A few of my favorite things

http://www.hotfreelayouts.com/music.php

And because I couldn't resist.

Should I be ashamed. . .

. . . that I know all of the words to the theme song for "Green Acres"? I hope not because I do.

"New York is where I'd rather stay. . . I get allergic smelling hay. I just adore a penthouse view. Darlin' I love you, but give me Park Avenue."

(Ever have a song playing over and over again in your head. Unfortunately for me, thanks to an episode of "Will and Grace" that we just watched, it's this classic television theme song sung by whichever Gabor sister was in "Green Acres". What's worse is that I once belted out this song on the radio to win tickets to some event. Oh, and it gets worse: I can't even remember which event it was or if I ever even went. So, that means I sang it for the heck of it and now I am actually sharing this with you. I obviously have no pride whatsoever.)

I'm too old to be out on a school night

First and foremost, before I even recap the concert, let me tell you something I know for certain: I am too old to stay up that late and be out romping on a school night. It's official, I am past my concert-going prime. Not that this revelation will stop me, but it's now proven fact.

I have been a long-time Mellencamp fan and was truly excited about seeing this crusty, angry musician perform. However, before I was allowed to hear the man I came to see, I had to live through the opening act. I have never managed to make it to a concert that had a cool opening act. I hear people talk about seeing Mellencamp open for Heart or Kravitz opening for Aerosmith. I have never been privvy to even the potential of hearing a quality opener. It was no different this evening.

So, onto the recap, which I have already shared with Jenny from the Blog. Mellencamp was himself: an angry, cigarette smoking, working-man advocating, politics-espousing bad ass and I love him. His show was raw. His music loud and anti-establishment. He rocked. He came on stage, cigarette hanging out of his mouth, ready to knock some sense into us and that he did.

He spent some time reminding us how he feels about the US being in the midst of a war, his dislike for our commander-in-chief and overall disgust with the clean-up following Hurricane Katrina. Using "Love & Happiness", a song written over 25 years ago which still rings true today, as his platform, he made a lot of sense and his compassion moved me. Such exclamations weren't well received in a red state such as Indiana, but I have to admit I made all the noise I could in support of Mr. Mellencamp (who I find myself politically aligned with), much to the dismay of some of those around me. I wanted to yell, "What did you expect, this is John Freaking Cougar Mellencamp, you knew how he felt before you got here."

I will say though, that the gray-haired man in the Dickies blue uniform parading across the stage was not the same guy I saw nearly 15 years ago. He took frequent breaks, some of which were very prolonged and noticeable. He sat through a few songs, coerced bandmates to sing "Hurt So Good". He changed the line-up continually and obviously and spent a lot of time directing his band via hand signals and obvious "chewings".

However, I was enthralled. I was amazed at his passion on stage. I was captivated by his physical antics. He rocked. Enough said.

I tried to remember a song list to share with dear Jenny, but I fear that I can only recall what most moved me including my personal favorite "Little Pink Houses".

I have always thought that it would have to be an amazing and moving feeling to know that an entire audience of people knew every single word and note to your life's work. In many songs including "Jack & Diane", "ROCK in the USA" and "Authority Song", he just let us sing the words and as I looked around everyone knew every single word, every "ooooooh" and every pause. That has to be a tribute to any musician. I know his body of work has moved me, become something of a soundtrack to my life and will continue to play in my head as I think back over events and memories. Yes, in the midst of concert going, I managed to buy yarn. The top photo is of the yarn I plan to use for the sock class, it's Meilenweit Fun & Stripes (80 percent wool) and so funky. The photo above is of the Lamb's Pride Worsted in oatmeal, roasted coffee, Victorian pink and oregano that I plan to use in making a kitty bed. It's official, I am knitting for the cats now.

I am a fan. . .

I had been waiting for a reason to use a photo of the two antique fans that sit on the mantle in my living room. This was a corny a reason as any other. I have a thing about old metal fans. I guess you could say I am a "fan" of them. (Heeee! Heeeee!)

My grandmother worked at GE most of her life making light bulbs, wearing a crisp white dress and hairnet each day. The plant was hot and muggy, and being as GE also made fans and most everything electric at that time, they were scattered all around the huge rooms in an effort to cool them. At some point they must have given some of the fans away and Mamaw ended up with several, they were all over her house.

In 1976 whenever my parents redecorated my bedroom, they chose (of course) a red, white and blue color pallette, complete with red carpet and blue curtains. Every little girl's dream, eh? My dad took one of those fans and continued the theme by repainting it. It sat at the end of my bed my entire time there, spreading a light breeze over me as I slept. We didn't have air conditioning then and it was my saving grace in the summer, that and the continual flipping of the pillow to get the "cool side". I loved the "Mmmmmmmm" sound it made as it lulled me to sleep each night.

I left the fan at my folks whenever I ventured out on my own, but my dad has kept it tucked away for me. He has big promises of cleaning it up for me. In the meantime I have rescued two of similar version of my own. Both work, the tiniest is the cutest little thing. The larger is in need of a new plug (and we all know how unhandy Cynical and I are), but I suspect it will sit like it is for some time. I put them on the mantle in some sort of quirky decorating attempt. I am not certain how Cynical feels about them, but I just love seeing them sitting there. It reminds me of sun tea, June bugs tied to a string, little purple clover flowers, my hot pink bikini and rings of dirt around my neck after a long day of playing.

Dad has rescued another fan for me, so soon we will add two more to my collection. Isn't it funny how collections begin?

The photo pun this morning could be used to spoof the fact that I am going to see John Mellencamp tonight, being as I am a "fan" of his. I have had some issues determining what to wear to said event, but my Avatar at the right is all ready to go. She's much more stylin' than I am. I am trying to not look like a chaperone nor sport a belly shirt. It's a fine line! My plan is to "walk tall" in search of "love and happiness" realizing that my "life is now" and have a "wild night", or maybe just a good time and get in bed before midnight.

Why thank you Mr. Waiter

Today was stressful. I won't go into detail, it's boring and venting won't solve this issue for me. Suffice to say that if you keep doing the same thing over and over again and you keep gettting the same result, you have to stop and learn from it. You have to knock yourself in the head and say, "Enough. This isn't going to change. Give it up."

However, the day was fruitful on another front. I did some shopping and came home with quite a bounty. First and foremost, I believe I have found proper attire to wear on Easter and, here's the clencher, it will also be applicable to work and play. Whew, I am not stuck with a dress I only wear to funerals and weddings.

Next up, I picked up some needles, yarn and assorted books to fuel my knitting habit. As the temperatures rise over the next few weeks, I will be donning a very cool shirt and dandy new flip flops. OK, summer, bring it on! A new Patty Griffin CD topped off my trunk of goodies. What else could a girl ask for?

Food. That's what a girl can ask for.

After unloading my plethora of shopping goodies, Cynical and I went out for dinner. After a stressful day such as this, not even retail therapy was enough to wipe away the frustration, so dinner out and a margarita were sure to do the trick. It only got better: when I ordered my margarita complete with salt, the waiter requested my ID. I was carded. Hey, things are looking up.

Out with the old, in with the older

It's official. It finally happened. My dreams came true, well at least in part.

We removed the carpet from our entry/living room uncovering our soon-to-be beautiful hardwood floor. In anticipation of the big event, we gave ourselves a preview Friday night before bed, slicing into the floor covering to reveal a beautiful hardwood in the rough.

Friday night festivities
But, before we get to that, let me begin, well at the beginning of our weekend. On Friday night after work I made a mad dash to the yarn store to pick up the last remaining skein of yarn to finish a special project. Afterward I met up with Cynical and we made an appearance at my folks' annual St. Patrick's Day festivities. Donning green plastic hats, listening to Irish music, we dined on a traditional meal of corned beef, potatoes (of course), parsnips, carrots, bread pudding soaked in Irish whiskey, green beer and cabbage.

We slipped out for a play at a the local community-theater, "Five Women Wearing The Same Dress" and headed home where, we couldn't stand it , we had to see what lay beneath our old carpet. We were so pleased and went to bed with visions of glimmering and valuable hardwood.

Quest for hardwood, the whole story
(Don't make something dirty out of that heading, it means exactly what it says, nothing implied.) We awoke early the next morning to begin our quest. My dad, experienced in all things handy and mechanical, joined in destruction. In no time we had ripped away the creamy bane of my existence. After hauling the carpet, unceremoniously, to the transfer station, we returned to collapse on the floor, exhausted from all of the bending and overwhelmed by knowing that we had all that glue to scrape up. After crawling in tandem around the floor multiple times sporting mineral spirit drenched rags and razor blades, we called it a day, cleaned the floor, moved the furniture back and once again collapsed in exhaustion and pride.

The floors are rough still. Previous residents apparently used the floor as a drop cloth, but otherwise, it shouldn't be a big job to sand, stain and coat the floor, especially since we are hiring out the job. I like to joke that it was quality time for us as a couple, moving around on the floor on our knees, looking our worst, chemical odors wafting in the air. The couple that remodels together stays together I believe.

The concert
After managing to mask the smell of mineral spirits and Murphy's Oil Soap, we did some mad dash shopping for more home improvement necessities (as if we hadn't learned our lesson by now), a rug to shield the floor until it is refinished, new vent covers and a few sundry household items. We nabbed some Mexican food and a margarita and went to see Jo Dee Messina.

I love live music and I have to admit that Messina put on a great show. However, I was so very tired that I think I was just glad to sit down for more than 10 minutes and grateful that I didn't have a scraper or hammer in my hand.

Sunday
Sunday came too quickly and we arose with the realization that we had company coming and our house was a literal wreck. We wiped, we washed, we sprayed, we swept, we mopped, we dusted. We came. We saw. We conquered and the house was presentable in time for our guests. I must add that with every wipe, every sweep, we groaned in pain, sore from crawling repeatedly over the floor, squatting and contorting our bodies the day before.

In the midst of this household upheaval, we realized that our dryer had quit. Apparently it's an epidemic, as I learned from Rambling's recent posts, that their household too is experiencing some technical difficulties.

We visited with Cynical's family and after their departure, we loaded up our heaving basket of we laundry in the car and headed to the laundromat. Let me explain that this is perhaps one of my least favorite places. I hate folding my private items in front of perfect strangers. I hate having to pull lint from other people's stuff out of the dryer. I hate that people let their children rummage through your basket of clean clothes. I hate that these same people congregate at the front door of the establishment, smoking and contaminating my Bounce-scented clean clothes.

Whenever we abandoned apartment life and settled into a house many years ago, I swear I declared, "As God is my witness, I will never haul my drawers across town to wash and dry them again." Maybe I spoke too soon.

Cynical, a member of the "judicial system" spied a "client" at the laundry-mat and instead of assisting in the drying, headed to Wal-Mart, leaving me to fend for myself, so I tried to make the best of the situation by knitting a top secret project. Alas, I did make much headway (hint, hint) and finally he came to save/retrieve me. I was a brave, brave girl, folding my private items while the prying eyes of at least six strangers were upon me. And, you guessed it, a little kid suffering from an obvious cold rummaged through my knitting stuff. Gee thanks.

So, now it's Sunday night, Grey's Anatomy is on as I type this and the weekend is gone. I am still exhausted and pleased to be going back to work where I can get some rest.

The first photo is of the dining table at my folks' house. My mother had decorated it completely and was so proud of her creation, so we snapped a shot. The household shots are before and after photographs. I wish the perspectives were better, but you get the idea of the transformation. It's a long room, so I gave you a few angles. Boring, yes, but to us it's pure heaven. I only wish I'd shot the view with the fireplace, maybe next time.