I'd Give Her Away But She's Microchipped....
This is my cat Stella



I adopted her in 2006 from the Humane Society.

Here she is after rolling around in dried catnip. I opened up the container and her paw went in and made a mess on the carpet.


See...she's got that classy eyed look like she's been sampling something. I wouldn't know what that is like (I swear to the Lord above). But I did work as a Residence Hall Director and had the largest drug bust in Murray State University history in my building so I've seen what it does.

Ahem.

And while she looks cute and innocent...I've had it up to here with my cat. The problem? She is doing her poop business outside of her litter box. And I have no idea how to fix the problem. Now, let's go over the questions that you're probably asking:

Is her box clean

Yes. We scoop it out daily--if not twice a day. In fact, we dump out the litter from the box every 3 weeks or so and scrub the box completely.

Is it the litter?

We've been using the same litter since we brought her home in 2006. Doing the business outside of the box has only been in the last year.

What about her food?

Oh. We've been there, done that. She has been on special food since we adopted her because of her stomach issues. If she wasn't on this food, her business would be...well...a big, ol' mess if you get my drift.

Wait. You've had this issue for a year?!?

Yes. We've talked to vets (including my future brother-in-law who is a vet) and they thought she was constipated. We are now convinced that she is not and it is behavior based. She chooses to do her business on the bathroom rug (thank goodness it isn't elsewhere!). That poor rug has been washed more times than we can shake a stick at.

So....does anyone have any ideas? Anything? I mean look at her....

Short of me putting a kitty diaper on her butt--I'm beggin' ya'. Help a sister out!

Is it Summer and Nobody Told Me?
So, I had to work on Saturday the 27th. Well, I didn't have to work, but I volunteered to work. By working 8 hours on Saturday I got two comp days! Not a bad trade off considering I live in the middle of nowhere and may need to take a snow day this winter.

After I finished working, I decided to go back to my old stomping grounds and visit my favorite grocery store, Cub Foods.

In my small town on the prairie, we don't have a Cub.

And I miss it.

A lot.

Anyway, I decided to pick up the fruit, veg and canned goods that we needed for the week. I would then stop at our local market to get the "cold items" (milk, yogurt, etc). This way I could have a true Sunday of no prep work. No veggie chopping. No meal prep. I could actually relax on Sunday (and I did!).

As I was breezing through the produce aisle I saw this:




Say what?

Live Lettuce?

Seems as though Bushel Boy--a local green house who are famous for their tomatoes--has decided to sell live lettuce in the grocery store. Surprisingly, the cost is only about 20 cents more for a head of lettuce.

For twenty cents I was willing to try it.

What makes it live you say? Check this out....

That would be the dirt from the greenhouse pot! The directions on the bag say to keep it moist and in your crisper drawer. I'm under the impression that this will keep a little longer than traditional lettuce that has no root system.

Needless to say, I chopped that dirt & root system off at the knees. My lettuce is washed and vacuum sealed and ready for the week!

It Wouldn't Be Christmas Without This....


You know, it wouldn't be the holiday's without a little food coma, topped off with enough sugar and carbs to be able to run 3 marathons back to back.


I don't know about you, but one of my absolute favorite Christmas traditions is to watch A Christmas Story on TBS. I mean, they run it back to back for 24 hours--it would be a shame to miss it.


So, while you're still picking up random pieces of wrapping paper, saving the bows for next year, and trying not to poke yourself when you're stading next to your dried out Christams tree....take a moment to enjoy this clip from A Christmas Story. It's my favorite part...

Some Things Never Change....
I don't know about you, but as a child, as it got closer to Christmas I got more and more excited. I would count the gifts under the tree that were for me (it was pretty easy--I'm an only child). I am also guilty of unwrapping every gift under the tree when I was about 10 or 11 because I wanted to know what I was getting.

That is when my mom stopped putting tags on presents and each person got their own ribbon color or specific paper.

Last night, the Big Guy comes into the kitchen and the conversation goes like this:

BG: Who's gift is that under the tree?
Me: Which gift?
BG: The tall one in the blue paper.
Me: I don't know. Why?
BG: Well, it wasn't there yesterday. Who's is it?
Me: Why the curiosity, Mr. Big Guy?
BG: Because I want to know!
Me: Well, you'll just have to wait.
BG: There's another one with no tag. Is that for me too?
Me: Maybe. Maybe not.
BG: How many gifts are for me under the tree?
Me: Why
BG: Because I feel bad....I only got you two things
Me: No worries, you'll be just fine. Promise.
BG: I still want to know who those unmarked gifts are for....

While we're out celebrating the holiday with our families, we hope that you have a very Merry Christmas!

Now quit peeking under the tree. Santa doesn't like peeking.

Would You Like a Chest Cold With Your Truffle?
Along with watching reruns of Little House on the Prairie and M*A*S*H, I also had grand plans of making truffles for both family Christmas gatherings. I hoped to do this today as my family gets together on Christmas Eve and the Big Guy's family will gather on Christmas day.

However, I somehow picked up a nasty chest cold and am now holding down the couch. On the coffee table are cough drops, tissues, nasty tasting cough syrup, a plastic bag for the used tissues, my water bottle and the remote for the TV.

The idea of getting up to make truffles, while it is something that I need to do, just doesn't interest me. I would really prefer Paula Deen to come to my house and do it for me. Would that not be wonderful? Her saying "Now, listen here you sweet thing..." and "Where do y'all keep the vanilla?" would perk me right up. Oh, how I love Paula Deen.

Anyone know Paula's number?

I Hope I'm NEVER on the Show Bridezillas...
So, I'm off of work this week. Yes. Yes I am. And I'm loving every minute of it.

That is, when we have a satellite signal. Apparently a blizzard & gusty winds don't seem to jive with an HD signal. Ummm...how in the world am I supposed to watch reruns of Little House on the Prairie and M*A*S*H?

I have priorities, people.

Anyway, I made myself a little lunch, and packed a lunch for the Big Guy (he's on his night shift right now). I know, I know....I'm such a good girlfriend. Oh, wait. Fiance. Honestly, though, if I didn't pack him his lunch, he'd take a hunk of summer sausage and blue cheese crumbles and call it dinner.

With my tuna salad in hand, I head to the living room to watch a little TV. I flip channels and come across the show Bridezillas. I've seen bits and pieces of this show now and again and really just roll my eyes at the women who think that they really can get their way by being down right mean. But the show I watched today was appalling.

One woman featured was so controlling that she took it upon herself to order a larger dress for a bridesmaid because she "gained a lot of weight", told her future husband that when they're married he will not be allowed to hang out with his friends because she "doesn't trust them" and then tells her father that she doesn't want him walking her down the aisle because he broke a coffee cup at the reception hall.

Really?

Seriously?

If I ever turn out to be like that, someone please slap me.

I Was THIS Close....
Since I'm semi-new to the whole blogging thing, I sometimes stumble upon people having give aways on their blog. Give aways can be big (like electronics) and some can be small (jewelry).

One of my favorite blogs to read is the Pioneer Woman. If you have not been by her site, please do. Click here to get to Ree's site.

And I'm very tempted to make these Cinnamon Rolls. I just have to be sure to give them away and no eat any of them. Last time I checked they are not on the South Beach diet. But oh how I wish they were.

Anyway, Ree was giving away 3 Kitchenaid Mixers.

I entered and when she pulled the names, she pulled "Kelley".

I freaked out!

Me? Win the grand-daddy of all mixers? On the Pioneer Woman's site? NO WAY!!

I poked around trying to find the original post and see if I was the Kelley. But I couldn't find it.

So, I sent Ree an e-mail and said, "I think I might be it...but maybe not..."

Yes. I made my mark on the Pioneer Woman's site by sending her a rambling e-mail about me, my contact information, etc. just so I could know if I won. I went back to her site and found the original post and found the post that won.

Yeah. It wasn't me.

I then had to send another e-mail to Ree saying, "Yeah, um...never mind." I sure hope I'm not the only one with a common name to do what I did.

It's totally cool that the random number generator didn't pick me--my day is coming. I can feel it!

Is it Spring Yet?
I am so tired of the winter snow. Don't get me wrong. I like snow at Christmas because it's just not Christmas without snow.

Then again, my friends in Australia and New Zealand will argue that there is nothing better than sunny, warm days for Christmas. That's what you get for living in the southern hemisphere.

Anyway, I'm tired for one reason and one reason only.

Slow commute to & from work.

I'm all about safe driving. But why is it that Mother Nature insists that it snow during the commute to or from work? Can't she hold off until after those times?

I'm blaming this all on my high school friend, Daryl. He's a big snowmobile rider and prays for snow constantly. I keep asking him to modify his prayer to "after rushhour or on the weekends". I think God needs to take a serious look into his memos that he passes onto Mother Nature.

Come on' God...throw me a bone, will ya?

Baby, It's Cold Outside!

Oh my goodness....if this is what Antarctica is like, I don't want to visit.

Holy Pajamas! It's cold outside. And not just your average 20 degree day. We're talking -11 degrees when I left to go to work.

Yes, that is read "Minus 11 degrees" where I live (or "negative 11" take your pick). I almost wish that when it was this cold we would have mandatory snow days--not just for the kids, but for the adults too. One where you don't have to use a vacation day or PTO. If we had a snow day at least I could spend the day looking at Boo Mama's amazing Christmas Home Tour 2008. Over 700 people (yes, SEVEN HUNDRED) signed up. That's a lot of holiday decoration love!

With it being this cold, I tried my best to ask the Big Guy if I could park in the garage without actually asking if I could park in the garage. It went something like this:

Me: I'm not looking forward to starting my car tomorrow morning.

BG: Let it warm up before you go.

Me: But it sounds like it's groaning when I start it.

BG: Yes, because it's cold.

Me: Huh

BG: Maybe we need to get you a heater for your car?

Me: I'd take an automatic car starter over a heater

BG: It's good to want things.

Those of your from anywhere south of the Minnesota/South Dakota border are probably saying, "a heater? Doesn't your car have a heater?" Yes. Yes it does. But not that kind of heater. He's talking about a head bolt heater. This little bugger is attached to your oil pan. You then plug your car in at night. The heater keeps the oil warm and it is easier to start your car.

Seriously.

You know you're "up north" when you see a car with a plug hanging out the front like this:

Welcome to the frozen tundra that I call Minnesota!

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year....
Can I just tell you how excited I am to show you, the blog world, my home for the holidays? Today I am participating in Boo Mama's Christmas Home Tour 2008. This is much better than driving around the neighborhood. I can sit in my home, in my comfy clothes, drinking Diet Dr. Pepper and surf the web. Welcome everyone and a special welcome to those of you who are new to my little corner of the internet! If you want to play along, click here.

Now, granted, I live in a very small place (2 bed, 1 bath). But even those of us who dream one day to have a fireplace, staircase and multi-window, multi-level home can still have a cute, decorated home this time of year.

Yes you can! Seriously!

Here is our front door. Because of the screen door, I’m taking a close up photo of my $6 wreath from Target.

Oh, Target…how I love you.

But not this week because it is C-R-A-Z-Y. I now know what a NASCAR driver feels like. Or someone who plays roller derby. Take your pick. The photo is a little lop-sided because I was standing in the rain, holding open the door, trying to get a good photo. Since when does it rain in Minnesota in December? Goodness.

Inside our home, I did not go over the top. I mean, honestly—in a small space, you can’t. I get frustrated with too many pairs of shoes by the back door much less too much holiday stuff. I have one theme in my home every year. Snowmen. Why snowmen? Because you can leave them out past January 1st! If I’m going to dig all this stuff out of the storage closet, I want to keep it up for a while.

Look at this cute door hanger! Isn’t it adorable? My mom made it!

Here is our tree. This year we went with a live tree. The Big Guy and I agreed that the years we don’t travel for the holidays we’d have a real tree. I don’t know if I like it. The jury is still out. Watering the tree…ugh. Pine needles that poke your fingers….ugh. Ornaments that fall off….ugh. Pine smell….yeah, it’s nice, but I can get that from a candle or my febreeze outlet.

A tradition in our family is that each year you get an ornament with you name on it. The Big Guy has yet to get into that tradition. Well, wait. He has yet to get used to the house being decorated for Christmas. Until I came along, he never did it.

What is up with that? How can you not like holiday decorations?

So, here is our tree. I’ve been trying for a week to get a good photo of the tree, all lit up and looking lovely. This was the best I could do. Maybe if I win Boo Mama’s camera give away, I can take better photos (shameless plug and shout out to the random number generator, I know….).

My coffee table (an IKEA purchase, by the way) stays pretty much clutter free. The table runner was also made by mother!

Since we don’t have a fireplace, we actually hang our stockings on this shelf over the TV. All we need is the channel with the yule log burning and we’d have it made! My bookcases and TV stand are also IKEA purchases (just in case you’re wondering….). Please don't pay attention to the cables and stuff behind the TV. Boo Mama said to show the decorations...so...scroll down for specifics.....

This little candle holder is one of my favorites. It’s a wooden box with this snowman on the front. The cut out at the top holds a votive candle jar perfectly.

My snowman spindles are a purchase I made from Terry Village. These little things are so cute. I love pulling them out each year!

Now, these little guys were a gift from my future mother-in-law. They are made out of an old bedspread (seriously!!). They have sand in the bottom to keep them from tipping over. Check out the bigger snowman's "buttons"...they're cloves!! I love pulling these out every year, too.

This was a new addition this year. I wanted something special on the top of our book cases, but nothing flashy. I found some old garland, beads and some other decorations sitting in a bag in the storage closet. What you see is about 10 minutes worth of work. The hurricane candle holders I have had for some time. Even the Big Guy said it looked nice!

Here is my antique sewing machine topped with my grandmother’s etched hurricane lamps as well as some festive greenery and tea-light holders. I love this sewing machine. I found it at a garage sale for $5.

Yes. Five dollars.

So, now, to conclude the tour, we were asked to share a recipe with those coming by to visit. I have a great recipe to share with you. My homemade English Toffee recipe (which is always a hit in my office). I cannot take credit for this recipe. It belongs to the one an only Paul Deen. Oh how I love Paula Deen. How can you not love someone who uses butter in everything? I mean really. In honor of Boo Mama’s holiday tour, I am going to suggest a Minnesota original—Land O’ Lakes Butter.

Now, if you’re thinking that making candy is difficult, let me assure you. This is SO easy. My old roommate, Jenny, made this the other night and she agreed—so easy! Be sure to get a candy thermometer. This will ensure you don’t burn it. Believe me….burnt toffee is terrible.

Ingredients
14 tablespoons (1 stick, plus 6 tablespoons) butter
1 cup of sugar
2 T cold water
1 t pure vanilla extract (don’t use the imitation stuff…)
Dash of salt
1 bag (6 oz.) semisweet chocolate chips

Directions
Generously butter a cookie sheet. Put butter, sugar, and water in a sauce pan medium-high heat. Bring to a bubbling boil, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon, about 10 minutes. Cook to 300 degrees to 310 degrees F on a candy thermometer. Remove from heat (for all that is Holy, please, please, PLEASE, take it off the stove before you do the next step!!). Add vanilla and salt and stir. Pour onto prepared cookie sheet and spread to 1/4-inch thickness. Cool slightly, top with chocolate chips and spread as it melts. Cool completely and break into pieces. Store in an airtight container.

Here is the play by play. First, I wasn’t able to take a photo of the butter/sugar/water mixture while it was bubbling, because…well….you have to stir constantly. I’m a good multi-tasker, but not THAT good! But here is the color of the toffee once you add the salt and vanilla. A nice, deep brown and the smell is so good! What you see under my toffee is a silpat mat. No need for butter if you use these...

I use the Ghirardelli chocolate chips. You do not have too. I find they are the same price as the semi-sweet chips in our local store.

You would think I would be good at reading the recipe for as many times as I make this. Don’t do what I did and use the entire bag of chips. It’s too much. I find that too much chocolate and the melted chocolate will actually “peel off” the toffee. Thin layer is better. This is one time where too much chocolate is not a good thing.

See. Too much chocolate. But it was still good!

Happy Holidays, everyone! Thanks for stopping by to see me!

I've Been Tagged....

Tag! I'm it!

Shelley tagged me on her blog (read her tag post here and then look around. Her blog is super fun!) and I am supposed to share 7 random things about myself.

Oh. You're in for a treat. Ready?

1. I peel oranges using a spoon. It's easier and I don't get the orange pith under my nails or around my cuticles.

2. I used to be a certified archery instructor. If I were to ever be on Survivor and they had a challege with archery, my team would so win the challenge.

3. I have a slight obsession with philosophy bath & body products. I especially love this, this and this.

4. I cannot do any sort of craft project with my mother. My mother is a perfectionist. I am not. When I was making neck coolers for the 3-day walk (which really didn't work, by the way), she about passed out when I didn't measure the material at exactly 3.25 inches. She told me, "I can't watch this" and had to look away. I told her this was a good exerice in letting go.

5. I hate haunted houses. The haunted house at the Minnesota State Fair is the worst. Ask my friends Jake and Andre' about the time they made me go through it. By the time we were done, I had Andre's shirt pulled so tight in my hands that I had it twisted into a ball. I felt bad that I stretched out his shirt, but I was freaked out!

6. I am guilty of checking my e-mail at least 100 times a day (OK, not that much...). I have no idea why I do it, but I do.

7. I love cashews. I could eat a whole container in one sitting.

Part of the fun of tagging is that I'm now to choose 7 people to tag. Which is hard because some people love the tagging stuff and other's don't. Therefore, I'm going to do this:

People who read my blog....if you are looking for something to write about, why not play along and do the 7 Random Things About You? I know I'd love to learn more about you and so would the other folks who read your blog.

Come on along!

My Brush With Fame at 7:05 a.m. (sorta)....

It was 5 degrees this morning. I was bundled up in my orange Lands End parka, black hat, mittens, and carrying my lunch bag and purse.

I got off the cold bus (the heat wasn't working) at the corner of 9th St. and Hennepin Ave. next to the Chambers hotel.

The Chambers hotel, is very, very swanky.

So swanky that at 7:00 a.m. they have valet parking for breakfast.

Uh-huh.

Anyway, I walked past the Chambers hotel and noticed a small hotel-like shuttle bus filled with people. Behind it, was a dark tinted window, black, shiny, Cadillac Esclade SUV. Behind it, another SUV. And behind that, a giant tour bus.

With Will Smith's face on it.

Will Smith is in town today promoting his movie Seven Pounds. He's also doing some local charity work with Second Harvest and even attending a premier of the movie in Edina later tonight.

I was this close to seeing Will Smith leave the Chambers hotel and go to his radio interviews this morning.

Oh well. At least I can say I saw the car he was going to ride in.

And to make things even better, here is the video of the trailer for Seven Pounds.

The funny thing is, I stood on the corner at the end of the block and continued to look back at the hotel hoping to catch a glimpse of the man himself.

Then I doubted that he would stay the Chambers and be up so early. That it was probably movie people rather than the Will Smith.

But then again, if I had a bus with my face on the side of it, I'd want to be a part of that entourage too!

I mean, a bus with your face on it just ties it all together...don't ya' think?

I've Still Got It....

If you read my tribute to Jake post (or as I like to call it....a short story....read it here), you read about the practical joke I played on my friend Jake regarding a poinsettia plant.

The plant that I killed.

On purpose.

Anyway, to keep the joke alive, I sent a Jake a poinsettia plant yesterday.

He called me when he got home and told me that he thought the plant was for his roommate. I, of course, made sure that the roommate knows the true story. Jake said, "Yeah, he knows the story. YOU KILLED THE PLANT!"

Jake loved it.

And he warned me to stay away because he plans on taking this plant with him to LA when he moves in June.

If that plant dies I swear I have nothing to do with it.

Do you know it's hard to type with your fingers crossed?

Remembering Poe....

**Note: This is a VERY long post. However, it is necessary to have a full understanding of the events! Sit back, relax and enjoy....

What I am about to tell you is absolutely true.

This is one of those stories that you will NEVER, EVER, EVER go away. It is a story about my friend Jake and his love for a poinsettia plant.

First, let’s introduce Jake.

Jake in India

Jake shoving a whole Dilly Bar in his mouth.

Probably my favorite picture. Jake asleep at his desk at camp.

Jake worked in the camp office with us and started in January 2003. Being that it was January, we were still in the midst of the holiday décor. Included in that were many poinsettia plants that the camp owner’s wife decided were needed in the office.

Unfortunately, no one took care of these plants and they all died. All but one that was literally on its last legs. This plant had 2 living leaves. The rest were wrinkled and crispy and laying in a pile on top of the dirt. When Jake got the ten-cent tour of the office, Bill Jones (one of the executive directors) told him that he needed to work on keeping this plant alive. Jake told Bill that he was all over it. We think Jake was just trying to get on Bill’s good side.

As time went on, Jake made it a point to give that plant all the love he could. He fed it Miracle Grow, put it in the sunlight, and even watered it regularly. Jake was so excited when a leaf or two would sprout. But I didn’t believe it. There was no way that this plant would live. Jake said to me, “Kelley, that plant is making a come back.” I said to Jake, “If that thing lives I’ll eat my socks.”

We interrupt this blog post for a very important announcement

I cannot stress to you enough that you never make a statement like this while working at a summer camp. Especially a boys camp. Because they will make you come back to eat your words. Literally.

Now back to our regularly scheduled blog post

To my amazement that darn plant started to come back to life.

And I got nervous.

Really nervous.

Jake even asked me one day how I would like to have my socks cooked. BBQ? Seasoned?

Again. I was nervous. I could just see one day at dinner Jake and the kitchen staff bringing me a steaming plate of some kid’s grubby camp socks.

Therefore I did what any good, Lutheran, Norwegian would do.

I killed the plant.

Yep. I channeled my inner CSI agent and mixed up a cocktail of any sort of chemicals I could find in the cleaning closet. Goo-Gone, windex, rubbing alcohol—you name it. Every few days I would add a little bit of the cocktail to the plant.

By end of January, the plant was dead.

Jake came up to me one day and said in a very sad voice with a very pouty face, “Kelley. I think the plant is dead. I tried. I really, really, tried. But I killed it.”

I gave Jake a pat on the back and said, “I know, buddy. You tried.” But in my head? In my head I was thinking, “Bwwwwaaaa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. Waaaaaaha ha ha ha ha.” Because seriously...Jake had no idea I killed it. In fact, no one in the office knew.

Later that day, we had a memorial service for the plant. Jake named him Poe. Poe Poinsettia. Jake even had a obituary typed up for the plant. After the memorial service, we even had a cremation. Here are the photos from said cremation:

Preparing the plant for cremation

Burn, baby, burn

A little support during a tough time...



The remains...

We won’t go into the fact that Jake kept those crispy remains in a jar on his desk until he left in 2006.

A solid month went by before Jake found out that I actually killed the plant. A bunch of our camp friends who took a 3 month road trip around the USA came back and were staying at Jake’s place. I went down for a visit and it was then that it slipped out. Jake was SO UPSET. He couldn't believe it. Ironically when I left his place, I had a flat tire. Jake swears he had nothing to do with it.

That summer at camp, we decided to add a little more to the joke. Jake’s birthday is at the beginning of June and we are usually doing work camp at that point. I made t-shirts that had a photo from the memorial service on the front and the obituary on the back. All of the summer administrative staff from boys and girls camp wore the shirts on his birthday at breakfast.

Jake normally was one of the last to arrive at breakfast. As we were lined up outside of the dining hall singing grace Jake looked up and saw all the shirts. He thought that they were great.

But he had no idea that there was still more to come.

Laura, one of our camp directors, asked me to share the story behind the shirts for those who didn’t know their importance (it’s a camp thing—always include people). I stood up and told the group the story.

With a twist.

I said, “Jake will tell you that I killed the plant by pouring Goo-gone and other chemicals into the plant because I made some comment about eating my socks if the plant lived. But really, that’s not true. The reason that the plant died was because Jake neglected it.”

Jake stood up and pointed at me and said, “You’re such a liar!! That’s not how it happened at all and you know it!”

The reaction was very real and unplanned.

The staff however thought that this was a “joke”.

Oh. Not even. It was real. All real.

I heart you Jake! Congrats on your new job and move to LA. You’ll do great.

My Eyes! My Eyes!!

Make sure you're wearing your sunglasses. The Big Guy has this crazy idea that he needed to mark his territory by giving me a ring. Oh. OK. Twist my arm. I'll take your token of affection and wear it on a particular finger on my left hand.

I need to go on record as saying that I never thought I would be posting pictures of my winter dry hands wearing an engagement ring.

Hell. I never thought I'd be engaged.

But I know that I have family & friends from out of state who are dying to see this. So, this is really to make them happy.

Or for insurance purposes. Take your pick.

Big Guy....you did well. I think I'll keep ya'.

Back in 1992...

I was reminded recently that in 1992 I had my palm read on Halloween. We had a little party in our dorm and we had all kinds of fun stuff. I've had my palm read before and sometimes they've been right on, and other times not so much. It is important to note that I look at palm readings as fun--not the gospel.

Anyway....this palm reader said to me that I would marry a man from Minot, ND who's name started with "A" (she gave me a specific name).

Guess what?

The Big Guy? His name starts with an "A" and it is that specific name.
He was also born in Minot, ND.

Can anyone say spooky!?!?

This Could Easily Turn Into a Wedding Blog.....

o.ver.whelm: (v) 2b: To affect deeply in mind or emotion.

That is me right now. Overwhelmed.

Could someone explain to me how it is that when I saw all of my friends get engaged, go through wedding "stuff" that I never saw them look overwhelmed? Seriously, I want to just crawl under my bed and stay there until spring 2010.

I have come to the conclusion that what I am about to write, my mother is going to read. And when she reads it she's going to make a face, roll her eyes, sip her coffee and tap her fingers on the kitchen counter.

That or she'll submerge herself in a huge craft project (when she should really be sending me her Christmas list. ahem.).

I don't know if I want a wedding.

Notice I didn't say, "I don't want to be married." Because I do.

And I think that is how I'm different than most brides. All of my friends, thankfully, are in the same place. They got married later in life and wanted the marriage....not the $75,000 wedding that included a dress that weighed 80 pounds, a 10 tier vanilla-something-or-other cake with some sort of fruity filling, a DJ who promised not to play the chicken dance, and more flowers than a Rose Bowl float.

No. We all want the marriage.

But seriously, people....I don't think I want a wedding. But then I can't help it and think that I'll be losing something if I don't have a dress made by my mom. Or the tulip bouquet. Or some piece of jewelry making up the "something old" part of the tradition.

But at the same time, I have my reasons (which I won't put here on a family friendly bloggy because it's personal and not meant for people I don't know to read.).

I know....I know. I have plenty of time. 2010 is a long ways off. I may change my mind.

But you know what sounds good?

Vegas.

That sound you hear? That's my mom choking on her coffee.

You know what also sounds good?

That blow out reception in the fall where all our friends and family can attend over a weekend and we can spend quality time with them--not 5 minutes in the receiving line and 10 minutes at the reception. A good, solid weekend. Two words people: hog roast.

Why can't we just do a quicky "wedding" and then do something "meaningful" at the reception? My friend Jake is an ordained minister. My Uncle David is a deacon in his church. Why not?

Too many decisions. Too many things to think about.

By the way....in my dictionary, overwhelmed is right under the word "over weight". No wonder the two go hand in hand.

Saturday To-Do List....

My Saturday's are pretty typical.

Sleep in a little. check
Run some errands. check
Clean the house. check
Decide on what to eat for lunch. check
The Big Guy asked me to marry him. Say What?

Yep! That's right! The Big Guy asked me to marry him.

I know you want the details. That's typically what people want to know when someone tells them, "Yeah, I got engaged this weekend." So, here they are.

How he did it
The Big Guy asked me while we were driving home from running errands.

insert the raised eyebrows here because you've just realized that there was no romantic dinner, sunset on the beach or bended knee.

The Big Guy asked me about my Christmas list because I only put two things on it. He asked me why only two things. I said it was because I couldn't think of anything. He said, "Oh, I thought you were hinting at a something."

I said, "What, like an engagement ring?"

His reply, "Yes."

I said, "Of course not!" (I'm not like that!) I then asked, "Why, did you buy a ring?"

He said he didn't but he's been thinking a lot lately on how he was going to ask me, when, where, all of those details. It then dawned on me. Was he asking me now?

So I asked him, "Are you asking me to marry you?"

He then looked at me and said, "Yes. I think I am! Do you want to marry me?"

I looked at him (while I'm driving 70 miles an hour down the road, mind you) and said, "Of course! yes!"

And that my friends, is how it happened.

When is the big day?
Not set yet and probably won't be until at least 2010, if not later. We are in no hurry.

What does the ring look like?
No ring...not yet. I'm giving Andy some ideas and we'll see what he decides.

How do you feel?
Happy that it's over. I know it sounds silly--but honestly, when you know that you're going to spend the rest of your life with someone, it is one of those things that you really just want it to happen. I didn't want the bended knee, the romantic stuff. That's not us. Asking me in the car? That's so us.

I of course freaked out a bit. It wasn't the freak out of "Oh goodness, what have I done?" It was the freak out of the fact that I didn't feel any different. I don't feel different. I'm not a blushing bride. I'm not a giddy girl. I'm not buried knee deep in bridal magazines. So I wondered....is that bad? Am I supposed to be over the moon? Am I supposed to be calling everyone in my cell phone & address book?

Thankfully, my friend Amy said that what I was feeling was normal and that when she got engaged, she also didn't feel any different.

Thank God. I thought I was the only one in this boat.

Are you looking forward to the wedding planning?
That would be a big, fat, NO.

We're going simple. In fact, we're looking at doing a big ol' weekend reception/gathering rather than a wedding. That's more fun anyway. And more "us".

Can I tell you what I'm really not looking forward too? I'm really not looking forward to The Questions.

Have no idea what the questions are? Oh....sure you do. In fact, if you're like me you're guilty of probably every single one on this list.

*When's the date?
*How did he ask you?
*What season are you getting married?
*Will you have a big wedding party?
*What are your colors?
*Who is going to be your maid of honor?
*Have you found a dress?
*Where will you have the wedding?

And then, of course, after the wedding there is the ever popular question...

*So, when are you going to have kids?

I am just not looking forward to that. And what's sad is that there are people out there who get offended if you don't answer their questions and label you not so very nice names. I'm sorry, but your innocent question is one that can actually be draining.

I know...I know...how can "are you having marble cake or vanilla cake" be draining. But it is. And a lot of people don't think about that. It's like walking up to a woman and asking her if she's pregnant. You walk a fine line asking those questions. Therefore it's just best to not ask at all (at least I think so.). If I want you to know, I'll tell you!

I'll get off my soap box now.

And I'm off to change my facebook status because the Big Guy just told me that I spelled marry wrong. I spelled it "merry" not "marry".

I'm blaming it on Christmas shopping today.

I Heart The Duggar Family....
You probably think I'm nuts for writing this. But I do!

I really am fascinated with the Duggar Family.

I know you've heard about them. The family with 17 kids ranging in ages from 20 to infant. To top it off, the mother, Michelle, is pregnant again and is due in early January.

I don't know what it is that I love about this family. But here are some top things to ponder:

1. Is it because this family has 17 children and not one of them has their own room? Well, besides the oldest who just got married and is no longer living in the house.
2. Is it because the girls all wear dresses? And not a skirt that is above the knee. Though the dress may be technically a skirt (as it's a separate article of clothing), it is ankle length. I have not seen any of them in a pair of shorts, or a pair of cute capri pants.
3. Maybe it has to do with the fact that all the boys wear the same hairstyle. Wait. The girls do too! Long hair, swept bangs behind the ear. All the same.
4. Speaking of the same, maybe I like the fact that all their names start with J.
5. Is it because they live debt free? Debt free. With 17 kids. Please tell me how they do that because I've got a lovely school loan and car loan I'd like to float their way.
6. Is it because they drive everywhere in a tour bus?
7. Is it because all of the kids play the piano and the violin?
8. Is it because they don't really watch TV, yet they have a reality TV show?
9. Perhaps it's because they built their own home from the ground up.
10. Maybe it's because their oldest, before getting married, never really dated his wife before he proposed. He saved his first kiss for his wedding day, as did his wife. Now that's commitment!

Whatever it is, Monday nights I'm hooked like a crochet needle making a scarf.

The mother, Michelle, is so calm and patient with her kids. And Jim Bob, the father, never seems to get upset. What's crazy is that I don't know if I want kids--yet watching this show makes me want to move next door just so I can ask Michelle on a daily basis, "How in the world do you do it, girl?"

Observations at the Bus Stop, part 2....

As the construction continues downtown Minneapolis to add another bus lane 2nd Ave and Marquette Ave, our routes were once again "adjusted".

Don't get me wrong, I'm OK with that. I'll catch the bus anywhere. Just as long as it's in a safe part of town.

For the last week or so, I've been catching the bus a few blocks away from my office. I'd like to say I'm getting more exercise, but really it's for one reason. To get a seat. Our bus is always standing room only by the time we hit the last stop in downtown.

Anyway, at this bus stop, there are a lot of people catching the bus with another bus company. Unlike other major cities, we have probably 6 different bus and transit companies which take folks to all parts of the metro area.

Last week as I was walking towards the bus stop, I noticed 3 lines of people. Neat, orderly lines. It reminded me of elementary school when you would line up to walk down the hall to lunch, gym class, music, and so on.

I was baffled. Where they really standing in line? Or did it just look like a line? As I'm standing there waiting for my bus, I see another bus pull up and every single person in one of those lines walks up to the bus--staying in their line--and file on to the bus one by one.

Like little ducks in a row. One by one.

I began to wonder if there were lines on the side walk indicating where the line began for a specific bus number....460 line starts here. I mean, there were the 3 lines of people and then a mass of folks (which is where I was) waiting for other busses. I confess...as I got on my bus and drove by I made it a point to look. Nope. Nothing on the sidewalk indicating a line should start here.

I wonder what started this pattern? Was there a mad rush to the bus one day that caused drama in the fact that someone had to sit on the aisle rather than the window? Did the bus company send out a letter saying that an orderly line is needed? And how do you know that you're in the right line? It really does baffle me. I'm thankful that my bus doesn't run that way.

However, I am bummed. With the move to the new bus stop, I have no idea if the man wearing the ski goggles still rides the bus.

Merry SITS-mas Everyone!

If you have yet to visit SITS and join that community you're missing out! And today is no exception--they are having an early Christmas celebration.

Prizes every hour!

Lots of blogs to read!

Lots of cool people to meet!

Get over there people and join in on the fun!

Oh! And if you're new to my side of the internet--check out my other project--Cards By Amy's Angels. Click here to check it out!

How to Not Make History on Thanksgiving....

When making the Drunken Cranberries, it is best to not add an "extra dash" of rum.

Doing so will cause a bit of a fireball when you open the oven.

Which will cause the Big Guy's mother to scream for her husband.

Which will then cause everyone to say, "Remember the Thanksgiving that Kelley almost burned down the newly remodeled kitchen?"


Little confused? Here's the science behind it.

Alcohol is a smidge flammable. Yep. It is! Combine the alcohol soaked cranberries with a heat source--oh, like a 350 degree oven, let's say--and wala! Science o' plenty.

Now, let's say that you have a 350 degree oven full of rum fumes and you add to the mixture one over eager mother (who says she was checking on the chicken, when really she was probably peeking at the cranberries....ahem.) who then yanks open the oven door.

Oxygen rushes into the oven which combines with the rum fumes and, my friends, there you have it.

A rum fire ball that bursts out of the oven, causing said mother to scream for her husband.

And who says that Thanksgiving is dull?