Changes

1. Recycling. We're doin' it. Even Joe is doing it. He laughed at me when I suggested it. Of course, I didn't take it to heart. I do things every day that warrant a good laugh. I am shocked and amazed at how quickly the recycling has become second nature. It really takes a while for changes to sink in to my stubborn soul. Example: I bought cloth grocery bags. Put them in the car. Forgot to bring them in to the grocery store for a good month.
2. Smoking. Not doing it. As much. I have an occasional smoke when I'm out with friends. Since most of my friends are parents, we share a lack of personal time and social life. So...hmm...four smokes a month? That's about right.
3. Photography. I have always, always had a burning interest in it. So I joined a site called Shutter Sisters. Wanna see the photos I've submitted? Check it. I have lots to learn. But I'm going to have fun doing it.

Other news.

Jackson has his first real sinus infection. Oh, it's a doozy. When he sneezes, ungodly amounts of yellow snot fly from his nose. It's awesome. There is something so satisfying about pulling that out of his face. So he's asleep right now, slathered in Vick's BabyRub, propped at an angle to drain his congested head, and snoozing to the soothing sounds of a cool mist humidifier.

My 20 year reunion is in September. GAWD. I'm pretty freaking excited about it. I haven't been back home in, ohhh...six years? My dilemna is: drive or fly. Flying is fast, but it's up. In the air. Above clouds. No likee. Driving is much more appealing to the control freakmama inside of me. But. Fourteen hours. In the car. With two kids.

Shit. What to do.

Too much time on our hands

Now that I am down to two shifts a week (not for long, hopefully), I am bored.

Really bored.

Winter in the mountains can do that to you.

Hence, this.



Look! It's me. As a cartoon. I also made myself into a fairy on Disney's website. It's your lucky day, though. I'm gonna spare you that one.

Also.



A video compilation of idle minds at play.

Linus

I swear, it melts my heart into a big, squishy puddle when Jackson snuggles his blanket. Thank God he is not particular about the blanket. His only requirement is that it is a flannel receiving blanket. It doesn't have to smell a certain way, or sport a particular pattern. Just be flannel. It's that easy.




















He doesn't carry it with him all day. But it does need to be in his vicinity. Within reach.




















Do not try to take it from him. He will give you the distinctive "Squeal of Displeasure."




















This. This is the best.

December Festivities

November, Pt. 2

Apologies for the quality of this one. Definitely thrown together...

November

Winds. Of Change.

Thank God it is January. 2008. A new year. Big changes on the horizon.

November and December were just NUTS.

Joe and I were offered the opportunity to buy The Best Cellar. At a stellar price. A place we helped to open. We were stoked. It is our dream. It is what we aspire to do. WE. WANT. IT. So begins meetings with the owners and the bank. The SBA. Potential investors. Thoughts and ideas zip in and out of our heads at lightning speed. Can we afford it? Can we make a life for ourselves this way? It is all we think about, talk about. Then BLAM! Another offer.

The Mountain Tavern and Grille is a local restaurant where Joe worked for five years. He was their Chef de Cuisine. He was running the line when they won their first DiRoNa award. He quit three days before our wedding, so you KNOW the reasons for his leaving were strong.

They want him back. And they will pay much more than what he makes now. And we may be able to buy that restaurant when the lease is up in three years.

So. Leave Best Cellar he must. And put The Dream on hold we must. And I am relieved and disappointed. Relieved because the time I want to put into a restaurant? Impossible right now. Not until Jackson is in school. Disappointed because DAMN a restaurant just fell into our laps, and I just can't do it right now. DAMN. DAMN. DAMN.

So throw that whole mess into a slew of birthdays, doctor's appointments, holidays, and Christmas parties at the Cellar, and Heather has been a very busy girl.

But January is finally here. And I sigh a sigh of relief. And try to begin writing here again.

This does not qualify as food

Ok. Maybe I'm a bit fired up from the Patriots/Ravens game. What the HELL. Did New England make a pact with Satan? I think yes. GOD I wanted them to lose. Especially after one of their players taunted the Ravens coach. Taunted. I know it's football. I. KNOW.

So.

Joe has to make congealed salad for two Christmas parties this week. Oh, it is most vile. Please, look.

Congealed. Salad.

Food Network's site does not have a recipe for this. At all. Not one.

Marshmallows and cheddar cheese. Jell-O and mayonnaise. Fruit and cottage cheese, suspended in bright green gelatin. A quivering cube of food madness. "Congealed" is a word that also describes blood. BLOOD.

Why. Why does this abomination still exist.

I am going to bed now...

*shudder*

Walking

"Walking" by Widespread Panic

Wants

Dear Santa,

I would like a coyote for Christmas.

Love~
Heather

The Absent Blogger

Man, I am SLACKING on the blog. Apologies all around. It's...it's...just so damn BUSY. We had a slew of birthdays, Halloween, a night away from the chirrens, early dismissals from school, Fall Fling, and a prospect for me and Joe's future that could be big. Real big. Dream-come-true big. Some of you already know. I'll keep the rest of ya'll posted on new developments.

Photos and video to come. Jackson is thiiiiiis close to walking. Hold on to your shorts eveyone...

Ten Months

The ride to work

Heading down the hill.

There's usually some form of a dog here. Chasing cars. Sleeping in the road. Eating...something.

Christmas tree farms. Two of hundreds in this area. We have an abundance of bumper stickers that proclaim, "Frazier Firs Make Scents."

And they do.

The car/truck I inevitably get stuck behind. Not that I'm driving fast or anything...

We are a two stoplight town.

One:

Two:

Gratuitous baby pic:

Grandfather Mountain. Every morning, when I see this, I am thankful for being able to live here.

Jackson's birthplace:

And the view from the parking lot.

A cause I can support

Because I've been there. Done that. Loved it. And feel strongly about it.

The Boob Squad.

Facebook sucks. Big time.

All is Well in the Shire

General update.

Third grade is good for Seth. Lots of reading and creativity. And the school is SO. GREAT. at specializing Seth's education. Mommy and Daddy will get a kick out of this one: Seth's problem in school? Math reasoning. I have no clue where he got that.

"Hey Heather...what's blahblahblah times blahblahblah?"
"Ummmm...wha?"
Followed by singing, stares into outer space, and fingers in ears.

Football went over like (to quote Daddy) a fart in church. A lead balloon. He did not dig it at all. So...on to alternative choices.

Jackson is eating us out of house and home. He will eat anything. Except green beans. Because I will not allow the vile vegetable to enter my home. Today, at his check up:

Dr. Clark: "Is he eating enough? He's not underweight...just right below the average weight."
Me: "Um...he eats EVERYTHING. We're putting him to work next week to cover the cost of the PHENOMENAL AMOUNT OF FOOD HE EATS."
Dr. Clark: "Is he active?"
Me: "Answering 'Yes" does not do him justice."
Dr. Clark: "Ahhhh...OK. He's fine."

Jackson is sleeping through the night, and I am more tired than ever.

Unfair.

Dr. Clark says this is because I am old. But, he is my age. So. He can get away with such smartassedness. Elsewise, I'd hang him by his toenails.

The Avery County Agricultural Fair is this week. Complete with rides of all shapes and sizes. I used to be able to ride things that went round and round. No more. Although Seth likes the way I scream for my life on the Tilt O'Whirl, he gets one chance with me. Then it's on to the petting zoo, corn dogs, and any ride that does not spin me into a nauseated, manic frenzy.

Eight Months, and Rare Cameo of Seth

Our local officers are bored, but not THIS bored

Check it out.

Samples were sent to a crime lab.

Samples of salt. And meat (though, being from McDonald's, that is questionable).

Patiently awaiting a clever retort from Craig, defending the officer for protecting this world from dangerous, burger-salting criminals...

Do huh?

Today, while traipsing through the mall with the kids, I saw a table set up for Crimestoppers. They were having a raffle to raise money. You know, to help prevent crime. The prize?

A rifle.

Um...OK.

Restaurant Etiquette

• When entering a restaurant, allow the host/hostess to greet you. Do not interrupt the greeting with, "TABLE FOR TWO. NEAR A WINDOW."
• While the server is reciting the specials, do not wrinkle your nose in disgust. Do not use words such as "gross," "ew," and "disgusting." Kitchen staff has worked hard to create said specials.
• Allow your server to greet you before barking your drink order. We will ask you what you would like to drink. Do not interrupt our spiel to ask about ther soup or the specials. We will tell you, I promise. And if you do not appreciate the spiel, do not eat in fine dining establishments. The spiel is part of the territory.
• Please, pay attention while your server is speaking to you. Example.

Server: "I will return with bread and tea. Can I get you anything else right now?"

Table: "YES. Bread and tea."

*sigh*

• Families with children. Do not allow your children to run amok in the restaurant. It is dangerous to all. Tip your server accordingly. Picking smeared pasta off the floor and gathering scattered/exploded sugar packets for a ten percent tip and $2.13 an hour is disheartening at best. Please find out what your child would like to eat before your server approaches to take your order. We have many other tables in need of our service. Example.

Parent to child: "Sweetie, how about the grilled cheese. No? How abouuuuut...the pasta. No again? Well...what about chicken. No...hmmm....do you have hot dogs here? No? What about burgers? No...hmmm..."

By this point, my four other tables are giving me the Hairy Eyeball. Hairy Eyeball...DO NOT WANT K THNX.

• Good things come to those who are good to their server. By tipping well? Yes. Of course. But also by being polite. Using common sense. Being appreciative. If you are good to us, we remember. And we return the favor.

OK. Rant over. Off to get a COLLLLD BEEEEEEER.

And do it all over again tomorrow.

Question

When will you/did you tell your kids the truth about Santa?

Part of me thinks that this should be the year.

Part of me wants to hold out one more year.

Input?