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Thursday, July 29, 2010

The Living Room

So you walk in the front door and the first thing you see is this humongous drag pattern/stain.
I'm telling you, all the carpet in this house looks like somebody was murdered on it.
For real.
Here's what it looks like if you're standing in the living room looking towards the dining room through the kitchen.
That opening to the right goes down the hall to the bedrooms and bathrooms.
Shut the front door and there's a closet behind it.
Every room in this house has a closet.
That's gonna be real handy I bet.
Here's Boots and our realtor sitting in the floor hashing out the home inspection report.
Love her to death, but she has no directional sense at all.
Tell this woman to go left and she goes right!

( I apologize profusely about the quality of these photos.
I took them with our Nikon and my photography skills are grossly undeveloped. )

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

2017

Wedding Dream Texts

I got these text messages from my sister Haley today:

"I dreamed abt ur wedding last night"

"It was sooooooo long and the preacher talked abt stupid stuff. U didn't even walk down. It was kinda weird"

"It was really strange. Ur bridesmaids didn't even stand up there. We were scattered throughout the whole church with black and teal knee length dresses on"

Yikes! 
Hope that's not a premonition!

The Dining Room

This room was added onto the house, that's where the bricks come from.
I like 'em.
Paint them white?

I want to paint that paneling a light blue color but Boots isn't having it.
He crinkles his nose and looks at me like I should be committed each time I mention doing such a thing.

There's a big crack under that door that goes to the patio.
The home inspector said snakes would come in through that crack.
Why would snakes wanna come in somebody's house?
Don't they like living outside?

This room is going to be filled up quickly after we move Boots' grandmother's dining room furniture in here.

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Etsy Likes: Rugs!


I've always loved these rugs.
Makes me feel......like a grandma!
I want to put a few of these in our house after we redo the floors.

I tell you what, this "Etsy Likes" idea started off strong but it just kinda petered out quick.

Monday, July 26, 2010

Wel-Come to the Cat Pee Inn!

See?

Did you know that the majority of American motels/hotels are run by Indians of the not-so-Native-American variety?
Its a not yet proven fact!
This week I had the great misfortune pleasure of residing at one of these fine establishments for one night in what has to be the worst city in all of Alabama.
I picked what could have been the worst hotel/motel in the worst city.
I am such an idiot.
What would you feel like if you drove up to this?!


This place wasn't even named Days Inn!




Now if this doesn't look like a lobby out of a scary movie, I don't know what does.
(You can't see it from this blurry picture (that I snapped before somebody caught me!), but to the right and left are staircases that lead to the second floor.
All the way up those staircases are hanging baskets with vines growing, looping and weaving together.
Quite the atmosphere.)

I walked in the front door, nobody at the desk, my nose immediately assaulted by the smell of musty old cat pee.
I thought, "Wow. I'm staying in Hotel Haunted by myself tonight."
Then the nice man that runs the joint came 'round the corner.


He checked me in, led me down a dark scary hallway to (thankfully!) the first door on the left and opened it to let me in the room at which point I was certain he was about to shove me in the door and crack my skull open with the room's iron.

(I have never been afraid that I would be snatched up and murdered before this trip.
The whole time I was wondering if I'd ever make it back home the way I arrived in this terrible town.)

After I brought my bag in and made sure the room was safe I ventured out with my trusty borrowed GPS to find some cheap, bad, fast food for supper before I barricaded myself in my room for the night.

(There were people walking all over this city.
My car doors don't lock!
If my Popaw knew how unprotected I was he would have a fit!)


At the cheap, bad, fast food restaurant a little girl with hair in pigtails was standing at the counter.
I placed my order and the little girl patted me on the leg.
I smiled down at her and walked over to fix my drink.

My ice hits the bottom of the cup, a hand hits my butt!
That little munchkin had smacked me!


And she did it again!
Three times!
Her mama didn't do a thing, just stood at the counter.
I could have picked her up and put her in the car with me and nobody would have cared.
(Probably not, but doesn't everybody want to steal a baby at some point, just so you can take them home and teach them some manners?)
I made it back "home" and slept like a baby until six in the morning.
Despite my best efforts I never can sleep late.
I have an internal clock that never rests, not even on holidays.

Since I got up so early I had plenty of time to sit and reflect.
My room was so weird.

The bed and tv were shoved and crowded into one corner and a lonely desk had the rest of the room all to itself.
The feng needed shuiing.

Several hours of boredom later, I was driving around in circles and one way streets searching for free parking and giving ugly looks to parking meters.
Did you know those things don't have change return buttons?
I was sorely vexed.

Found my building, found my room, found the bathroom.
This bathroom was full of signage!
I've never seen so many instructions just to use the pot!




















I felt like kicking a toilet after going arguing with a stupid parking meter!





So many directions just to use the bathroom!

I took my test in less than two minutes and I passed!
I was now a licensed funeral director and embalmer!
I left that city and got home just as fast as I illegally could!
I hope I never have to go back.

Sunday, July 25, 2010

The Kitchen

I'll start here since this is where I think the house begins.
What you're about to see is what sold me on the house.

The kitchen floor.
It made me think of a grandma's house.
Just warm and comforting.
Boots hates it!
He can't wait to destroy this floor and put something new down!

The door to the left is to the dining room.
Lots of cabinet space.
But no dishwasher.
:(
There's a ridge on the countertops, I guess to keep things like eggs from rolling off the edge.

Here's the closet where our washer and dryer will go.
And going right back out the door ends the tour for today!

Saturday, July 24, 2010

I Give You......The Outside!

The paperwork has been signed, money handed over, and boxes packed.
Boots and I finally bought our first house!
Over the next few days I plan to show you the whole house, room by room.
Most of these pictures are at least a month old but I plan to interject new pictures and show you what we're doing to the house too.
Please enjoy!
(And comment!)


Here's the front of the house.
The home inspector said it faces east so that's nice.
 
I absolutely cannot wait to rip this sucker up.
I know me, I'm clumsy; I'll probably fall on this holly bush moving in.




This is the little carport.
The door to the right goes to the kitchen.
The door directly ahead goes to the hot water heater and whatever else junk we throw in there.
(Like my new lawn mower! 
Thanks, Boots!)


Flower bed on the outside of the carport.




Go round the corner to the little concrete patio and door to the dining room.


Back yard


Big ol' tree.
Boots and the home inspection guy measured this tree to be 14.5 feet around.


Here's another tree and a little shed Boots can throw some junk in.

(I took these pictures when we first looked at the house.
Sorry about the way some are centered and some are to the left.
I'm having difficulties.)

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Scenes From a Parking Lot

Me:  "Are you a pallbearer?"
Man:  "No, I'm a Smith."
Me:  "A pallbearer!!  Are you going to carry the casket?!"

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Etsy Likes:

Nothing this week.

Monday, July 19, 2010

I have figured it out.
Two presidents, millions of people, and several hundred other folks that are supposed to be experts have yet to realize this.
This is big.
Huge.
Stay with me now, you'll understand it too.

Facebook......is the cause of this recession.
If facebook had never been invented, millions of Americans wouldn't have spent so much time on their computers, using electricity, not working, not going out spending their money on other activities, burning up their computers, buying new, faster computers, investing lots and lots of money on fancy cellphones with Internet capabilities so they could always be on facebook.

This is a monumental discovery in my mind.
If we could just end facebook and other assorted social networking sites the country would improve tremendously.

Think about it.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

I've been busy today.
I went to the post office, didn't get a thing.
It just disappoints me not to get any mail.
I went to the bank, took out some money (by the way, large amounts of cash make me nervous.  I was shaking like a drug dealer!) I went to my mom's office, I went to the wedding store to pick up two bridesmaids' dresses.
I went to another bank, got rid of that money, I went to the mall, bought nice hand soap at Bath and Body Works, went to Belk, bought three dresses because I was by myself and could not decide.
Went to Target, bought a few groceries but mostly magic dog washing potion (vinegar and antibacterial soap).
Went home, made myself cheese quesadillas for lunch.
Washed both dogs (ever washed a stubborn German Shepard?) in magic potion.
And proceeded to be lazy for the rest of the afternoon.
There you have it.

$$$

I could teach that Alanis Morrisette or whatever her name is a few things about irony.
I watch Food Network while walking on the treadmill.
I work for the funeral home but I don't like going to funerals and/or visitations.
Let's focus on that one.

Apparently the sad stuff's not so fun when you're not getting paid for it.
I'm an excellent actress.
I can put on a sad face with the best of them.
When it comes to having to attend one of these events off the clock my heart goes into hysterics.
I get all nervous and flippy-outy inside.
I ask myself, "Self, you do this for a living.
What's the big deal?"
I get in line.
I walk to the casket.
I proceed to cringe and look away.
Its like this big humongous dancing pink elephant in the room that I'm trying my hardest to not get stepped on by.

Don't look at the body, don't look at the body.
Relax.
Be cool, you're a pro.

I shake the hands, hug the necks.
I ask, "How are you?" like an idiot when I know how they are.
They say fine but nobody who's at the funeral home is fine unless they're dead or getting paid to be there.
And sometimes the ones getting paid to be there aren't fine.

This stuff is not fun unless there's money involved.

(At first, the title to this post was a complete accident.
I have a squeaky trigger finger and my computer is equipped with a separate "$" key.
After writing this I thought the accidental title fit better than anything I could ever come up with.)

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

New Family Members

This is a longish update.
I'm not so good at daily posting.

Last Tuesday after work, I left my town for the next biggest city to hang out at "Camp Nana."
Camp Nana is something my soon-to-be maw-in-law came up with as a time to visit with her grandbabies.
She teaches them Bible verses and they paint crafts (I'm not brave enough for paint and kids!), she enforces good behavior and manners and expects fairness.

Camp Nana is a good way to practice your baby skills.
Such as not exploding when seven miniature humans all demand more chicken nuggets! at the same time!
Pee stinks.
Hot pee, cold pee, diaper pee, toilet pee.
It all stinks.
Camp Nana teaches you to eat when you have a chance.
Kids are an excellent diet.
You expend all of your energy chasing after them and caring for them.
Then when it's time to eat, you have to feed them and you forget to feed yourself until you're laying in the bed going to sleep and by that time you're too exhausted to move, much less fix yourself something to eat!

After I left Camp Nana Thursday afternoon I headed south to Boots' house to pick up his "child" Chloe and take her to my house.


Chloe is the one on the right.
The one on the left is my "child" Nikki.


You can't really tell in this picture but Chloe's right ear was shaved when she had surgery on a broken blood vessel.
The vet said she needed to stay inside a while so I'm keeping her until we get everything finalized with our house and Boots moves in.

Nikki is super hyper and jumps around all day everyday but Chloe is really chill and always relaxed.
She just sat in the front seat of the car looking out the window on the ride back.
Very calm and serene.
Staring out at the cows.
Really staring at the cows.
Staring like it would have been embarrassing for you if you were in the store and your kid was staring like that.
Is it still bad to stare or have we as society gotten over that since its widely accepted to be different and nowadays you want people to stare at you?
Please advise.

Chloe understands German.
I speak English.
We had a bit of a communication problem for the first few days but I think we've conquered the language barrier, at least I hope so.

Two dogs is a lot of work.
Its almost like having children.

And tell me this, why do dogs eat grass when they think they're going to puke?
Do you think that trick works on humans?

Etsy Likes: Only One This Week and It's a Necklace!!


Oooh......I like!
This is me.
Simple.
I would get mine with an "H" on it.
"H" for "ha!"

Sunday, July 11, 2010

Pictures


Sox, I really really like this picture. This is a friend of mine that got married and I just love this picture. Can we do this???????

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Etsy Likes: Soap!

Hand soap.
Smells like lemons!


Natural laundry detergent!
Vegan too!


Homemade natural soap in earthy looks and textures!


Sushi soap!
How cute!

Sunday, July 4, 2010

Yesterday was a road trip for me.
I drove four hundred miles in twelve hours to go to a friend's wedding and pick up my wedding invitations.

The trip's events were dominated by Boots' GPS which he made me take even though I insisted I didn't need it because he insisted I did.

Before I left, I stopped at the local Target to buy a wedding bag and a wedding card for my wedding present.
I even color coordinated with the invitation and the wedding colors (blue and white.)
How nice.

I bought a big bag of Sour Patch Kids and a Dr. Pepper.
Junk food for the road, you know.

Got Boots' GPS set for my destination and hit the interstate, being careful to watch for those state workers because it is Fourth of July weekend, of course.

I'm driving along, listening to my new radio, wearing my sweaty dress I'd had dry cleaned this past week, eating Sour Patch Kids until my tongue was slap raw.
I'm thinking about how cool it would be if GPS machines and radar detector beepers were all-in-one devices.
And maybe if it was combined with cell phone.

That GPS lady would come real handy telling you which way to turn to duck the police.
I look at my fingers on the steering wheel, admiring my engagement ring, and there is an ant on my arm!!
Crawling along like it belonged there!
I freaked out, crossed into the other lane (nobody was around, it's ok) and got that one and another off my leg!
Where did those chomping critters come from?!

After that near disaster, fifty miles later, I'm off in La La Land thinking about Boots and wedding stuff and TURN RIGHT!!!
Scared the crap out of me.
I mean I jumped twice it startled me so bad!
Can't that thing beep or something to let you know you're fixin' to get yelled at?
What if I'd had a bad heart?

Another 50 miles or so later, I'm so far out in the woods the radio stations don't play new music anymore.
I passed by some blue and white balloons tied to a sign.

"Huh.
Wonder if that's it?
Nah, probably not.
GPS lady says I've still got 15 miles to go."

15 miles later, I'm obviously in the wrong place.
There is no church where I am.
I don't know if it's the bride's fault or the GPS lady's but I proceed to freak out since I'm lost and beginning to run short on time before the blessed event.

I make a call to a man I know lives in that general area and he gives me directions back to the church.
It was the balloons.
Shoulda just stopped and looked.
Genius.

Wedding went fine.
The bride was her most beautiful.
Flower girl wasn't too cooperative, ring bearer was very aerobic, but it was nice.

Traveled on to my aunt's house and picked up my (perfect!) invitations.
They look great.
Can't wait to mail those bad boys out.

The whole road trip thing made me want to go to Texas.
Boots, when can we go back?

Friday, July 2, 2010

Driving My Oven......

I imagine that when you read the title of this post you pictured me in my little car with a major kitchen appliance strapped to the roof but, that's not exactly what I meant.

Have you ever been so hot you thought you might would die?
You fantasized about your untimely demise and couldn't wait for it to come just so you could get some blessed relief?

No?
Maybe that was just me.

Anyways, the story goes like this.
Sunday night I was on my way 80 miles south to see Boots get baptized at the church we're getting married at.
(Boots rededicated his life to God in March and just now had the days in order with the preacher to be baptized.)
After I got about 8 miles into my little journey my air conditioner, in 90+ degree heat, decides that I don't need it anymore and proceeds to warm me to at least 140 I bet, for the rest of the way.
Did you forget that none of the windows nor the sunroof has opening capabilities?

You wanna talk about hot--go back up to the stop of this post and start again.
I was that hot.

When I got to Boots' house my nice new turqoise dress was soaked with sweat that eventually dried into salt stains when I finally cooled off.

After church I swapped my black beast with Boots' macho manly cherry red truck and kept his nice air-conditioned ride until today while he worked on my air conditioner (it was the thermostat that gave out!) and surprise! gave me a new radio!

Now, I'm cruising in the tank with air-conditioning and tunes.
Thank ya, Boots!

The moral of the story is that junk cars provide lots of unexpected unwanted entertainment.