Bragger

Minding Frankie by Maeve Binchy.....

2012-01-28T20:06:00.000-05:00

Maeve Binchy is one of my favorite authors, one of those whose books I buy immediately when they come out. I don't remember how I got interested in her writing, but most of her books are set in Ireland, and I'm fascinated by the culture. Her writing style is simple without being boring or dull. (Is that redundant?) Many of her characters show up across several books, but it's not like you HAVE to have read the earlier ones to "get it."

Minding Frankie is about a young man named Noel whom I would probably describe as a "loser" if I knew him in real life. He still lives with his parents, didn't finish school, is in a dead-end job that he hates, and hides his alcoholism (but not very well). His (quite a bit older) cousin arrives from America and takes their little town (village? street?) by storm, taking on many people-projects and doing pretty well with most of them. Noel becomes a project unwittingly when he is called to the bedside of a terminally ill, very pregnant woman and told he is the father of this soon-to-be-born-and-subsequently-motherless child.

I like Maeve Binchy's writing style because she doesn't try to make readers like the unlikable, and she doesn't try to hide characters' flaws. They are people, after all, and you have to take them "warts and all," as my mother used to say. Characters don't always wind up "happily ever after," but you get the feeling they wind up as they were meant to.

Favorite Things Friday - Dog That Isn't Mine....

2012-01-27T19:17:00.001-05:00

I've written a good bit about Gus, the world's most wonderful dog. Like many dogs, he doesn't think he IS a dog. He's a people too, in his little bitty mind.

Outside of my own dog(s), though, I have another favorite. I guess you would call him my dogphew. Nephdog?

This is Chico. He belongs to Katydid. Or rather, Katydid belongs to him.

How could you not love that face? I make fun of him, saying his tongue is too long for his mouth to hold it all. Or maybe he's just sticking it out at ME for making fun of him. Either way, that tongue is always visible. I also call him "Taco" sometimes, but he doesn't seem to mind. At least he's never bitten my ankle for calling him that.

This is his Doggy Ride, which allows Katydid to pull him behind her bicycle. Now folks, that's love right there. Considering the dog weighs 5 pounds and the trailer weighs about 30, that's going above and beyond the call of duty. As much as I love Gus, he's never had the privilege of riding in a fancy trailer behind my bike. I once bought a wire basket for the front of my bicycle (when I still thought he was going to be a tiny thing), but the first time I put him in the basket, Gus clearly said to me, "I don't THINK so, Scooter." (Name that comedian.)

Chico isn't one of those yippy chihuahuas. He has a sweet personality, and he seems to like me, for some reason. He goes on BRAG with us, and he's not a bit of trouble. He's probably the sweetest pocket dog I've ever known.

It's Real.....

2012-01-26T19:04:00.000-05:00

Today I filled this out. It's the first time it's felt REAL.

At one of the schools where I used to teach, the preference sheet had a blank where you could check "I plan to retire at the end of the ________ school year." I always wanted to check that box.

But then what would my statement have said?

I don't know how binding these documents are. The school district doesn't HAVE to offer you a position just because you get one of these forms. And I think January is a little early to ask most people to declare their intentions for the next school year.

But this person?

Not so much.

I had tears in my eyes as I filled out this form. But believe me, they were tears of JOY.

Not that I hate my job. I'm not miserable, homicidal (most days), suicidal, disgusted, burnt out, angry, or frustrated. At least no more than 99% of the rest of the teachers in the nation.

I'm just ready.

And now it's real.

Groundhog Day.....

2012-01-25T19:06:00.001-05:00

I realize that Groundhog Day isn't until next week. This blog post is in reference to the movie Groundhog Day. And I'm going out on a limb here, referencing a movie I've NEVER SEEN. As I understand it, though, a man is forced to relive the same day over and over again.

Almost a year ago, I wrote this post about the fact that my husband, who could not WAIT to retire, kept returning to work for Pepsi. And he kept hating it. And every time he hated it, he told me to remind him next time to tell them to go ____________________. Any random expletive will do there.

Last week Hubby and I exchanged this flurry of text messages while I was at school:

Hubby: Going back to Pepsi for little while. Do resets at Quality Dills Bells. By myself except first store. Off Fridays.

Me: Is this a joke?

Hubby: No. Don't mind doing something by myself and prob finish in 2 weeks. But he said only have to do 1 per day if I want.

Me: You told me to remind you...

Hubby: I know but I think this will b different.

I'm not going to bore you to death with the details of why this time has NOT been different. Hubby worked one day (yesterday), they were off today, and he is thinking of telling the guy tomorrow (his former supervisor) that he's not interested in doing this after all.

Sometimes "I told you so" just doesn't cut it.

The next sound you hear will be Bragger banging her head against a brick wall. It has much better results.

Looking Ahead.....

2012-01-24T19:53:00.002-05:00

I think I've always been a planner (and a dreamer), but it is possible to OVERplan? I don't mean scheduling every little detail of an event and being inflexible or blowing up when things don't go according to the plan. (Like a certain person I know and love, but who shall remain nameless here in the interest of family harmony.) I guess what I'm talking about is being overly concerned with the future.

This isn't coming out right. I'm not CONCERNED about the future...I just want it to GET HERE. NOW.

It seems I'm always looking forward to something. Can't wait until the weekend. Next gymnastics meet. Next football season. Payday. Bike ride. Summer. Retirement.

It's not that I don't enjoy NOW. I just always seem to be looking ahead, eagerly anticipating...something. Is that unhealthy? I seem to be antsy a lot of the time, wanting time to pass faster so I can get to the next thing. Hubby says his father used to say, "Don't wish your life away."

Again, it's not that I'm unhappy. I'm not necessarily looking forward to something BETTER. Just something ELSE. Sometimes I get frustrated (that's not the right word, but neither is depressed or dismayed or annoyed) that I won't live long enough to do all the things I want to do. Maybe that's why I try to cram so many activities into any free time I have.

That doesn't mean I don't know how to kick back and relax. I spend a lot of time crocheting, particularly in the winter. I can't wait to finish the project I'm working on so I CAN GET TO THE NEXT ONE. And there's always a next one.

I suppose an obsession with the future is better than dwelling on the past.

I guess.

More Pettiness.....

2012-01-23T19:12:00.000-05:00

I promise this blog post isn't written with as much grumpiness as it will sound like. It's more a case of, "Hmmm...Didn't see THAT one coming." I really don't just sit around and think of things to complain about. Really. I don't.

Really.

And this isn't a gymnastics post per se, although gymnastics will be mentioned tangentially.

Isn't that a cool word, "tangentially"? Makes me feel smart. Unless I'm not using it correctly, in which case I feel dumb.

When we go into the Coliseum for home gymnastics meets, we go from the training facility (where the hospitality room is located) through a corridor into the Coliseum. We don't enter from the outside like the ~~common people~~ people who don't contribute like a gazillion dollars to the university every year.

Katydid and I had an extra ticket at the first meet, because Frogger Blogger couldn't be there, and I asked the lady who scans our tickets what I could do with it. Not many people wander by there needing an extra ticket. She said I could give it to one of the "common people" ticket takers at the outside doors (those are my words, not hers, because she was clearly a lot nicer than I am), because sometimes people arrive with babies and don't realize the infants also need their own tickets.

So I approached a man at the door and gave him the extra ticket, saying, "Here is a baby ticket if you need it. But don't put it next to me!" He laughed and thanked me, and we went on about our business.

Imagine my surprise when a little while later the "baby" showed up at our seats in the person of a teenager and said we were sitting in HER seat. I argued with her at first, until she showed me her (my) ticket stub. She had a friend with her who could NOT have had a seat in that section because it's full of season ticket holders, and I was SO HOPING the folks to our left (the one who has serious iPad envy when I keep up with scores during the meet) would show up and kick them out of THEIR seats. But no, they picked that meet to stay home and allowed the little twit and her little twit friend to occupy seats they didn't deserve.

Now.

I realize that I gave up all rights to the ticket when I relinquished it. I didn't have the man sign a contract stating that he would ONLY give it to a family who needed it for a baby and he would ONLY put them in a dark corner far, far away from my seat location.

The meet wasn't a sell-out, so it's not like she was desperate for a way to get in. She just batted her little eyes and got a free ticket. And she isn't a baby.

I'm not angry or bitter, and I didn't memorize her features so I could hunt her down and instruct her in the error of her ways. I didn't even consider going to the man at the door and asking him what the HELL he thought he was doing, giving MY ticket to a silly teenager instead of the BABY I intended it for. At least the BABY wouldn't have spent the entire meet texting on her cell phone. Probably.

Katydid and I may end up with an extra ticket for this Saturday's meet as well. Guess where it will be?

In. My. Pocket.

Crazy Dream #16......

2012-01-22T18:52:00.000-05:00

Here's another crazy dream with vivid detail, so real to me that I woke up angry at Hubby.

I dreamed Katydid, Rozmo, and I were walking to my home from the town where UGA is located. Specifically, we were walking home from the high school where I used to teach, a distance of about 23 miles. We weren't at all dismayed by the distance we were walking, and we weren't tired at all. We were laughing and having a grand old time.

We were all laden with ... stuff. I don't know what we were carrying or why, but I was carrying my stuff in a white plastic kitchen-sized trash can.

Oh, and we had Gus with us. No collar or leash, but Gus was with us.

We had made it to about 6 or 7 miles from my house, and I realized that it was going to be a problem walking through town with Gus due to all the traffic. No matter that we had already walked almost 20 miles on the Atlanta Highway. I decided we needed to call Hubby to come get us. I was going to tell him to be sure and drive my SUV, since there were so many of us.

I didn't have my cell phone, because I had had to leave it somewhere to be ... repaired? ... charged? Anyway, I had to use Katydid's cell phone. And it was a good thing she had Hubby's number in her phone, because I had no idea what his number was.

I called him, and when I told him I needed him to come get us, he said, "You should have made better plans before you got all that crap. I'm laid up here on the couch sick."

I have no idea how he knew we had "crap" with us. I said, "Never mind, we'll make other arrangements," and I hung up on him.

I can picture the exact location where we were on the Atlanta Highway. There was an old abandoned business there named "Dunham's." There is no such business on that highway, abandoned or otherwise, and the only Dunham I know of is Jeff, the comedian.

Naturally Hubby called back, and I was (rightfully) hateful. I said, "To think of all the times I've hauled your drunk ass places when I didn't feel like it." (Don't tell Hubby, but I think I had him confused in my dream with my ex. He would be offended that I had confused him with that jerk.)

Then in the phone conversation Hubby started talking like Carl from Slingblade, and I told him that was getting pretty damn old. (If you've never seen the movie, or even if you have, please forgive us for finding the movie so hilarious. It isn't supposed to be a comedy.) At least I know where THAT part of the dream came from. Hubby and his golfing buddies have started talking like Carl ALL. THE. TIME. Katydid and I had the distinct privilege of listening to that for approximately eight hours last weekend, four on the way to Tuscaloosa and four on the way back. In my dream I had the nerve to tell him it was getting old. Not so much in real life.

I woke up SO ANGRY, and I never did find out if Hubby intended to come get us or not.

The Year She Fell by Alicia Rasley......

2012-01-21T18:51:00.001-05:00

I read this book on my iPad after downloading it for **FREE** on the Kindle. (I like the way the pages look on the screen on the iPad better than the Kindle.)

I didn't have high expectations for the book because it was free. Does that make me a snob? Or just stupid? I'm not sure what attracted me to the book, except its freeness. Maybe it's the subtitle, barely readable at the bottom of the cover: "Every family has secrets."

This is another of those books in which the story is always told in first person, but the narrator switches characters every few chapters. The first time that happened I thought, "Oh no, here we go again..." but I was so far into the book that I didn't want to abandon it.

One thing that stood out to me in this book was the quality of interpersonal relations and conversations among family members. They appeared to be "real" conversations; I didn't find myself thinking, as I do with so many other books, "There's no way anyone would really say that in the same circumstances." I like real people who speak to each other the same way people I know would speak to each other. Only maybe with fewer curse words.

The first character introduced in the book is Ellen O'Connor, a Presbyterian minister. When a young man shows up at her church, she assumes he is there for counseling. He says he was adopted and is looking for his birth parents, and he produces a birth certificate that lists Ellen as the mother. She is confused, naturally, since she has a daughter only a few months older than this boy, and he becomes angry, thinking she is trying to deny him. Ellen realizes almost immediately that while she cannot possibly be the boy's mother, it is apparent that her husband is his father.

I had no problem with this author switching point of view. In fact, she did it with such skill that she managed to change characters at just the right moment every time, creating a "cliffhanger" effect every time. When the next character picked up the storyline, there was just enough overlap that it was informative without being tedious. It gave a fresh perspective on events that had already occurred; I didn't find myself thinking, "I already KNEW that."

I couldn't put this book down. In the interest of full disclosure, that could be due to the fact that we had about a gazillion inches of rain here today, and there wasn't much else to do. Toward the end the plot line became a little contrived, and the ending was a little too pat for my taste. Still, it was a worthwhile read, and I would recommend this book.

Favorite Things Friday - Picture of Hubby.....

2012-01-20T19:20:00.001-05:00

I have many pictures of Hubby through the years, naturally. What I don't have is many pictures of me, which may not be a bad thing. When my screen saver starts scrolling through my pictures and I occasionally see one of myself, I look at two things: #1 - my weight; and #2 - my hair. The hair fluctuates almost as much as the weight. And I usually see pictures of my hair and think, "What in the hell was I THINKING?"

But I digress.

This is one of my favorite pictures of Hubby.

I took this photo several years ago, right after I got what I call my "big dog" camera. I took it from what I thought was a cool angle, and I like the look on his face. A better photographer would have arranged it so that the shadow didn't cover his face, but whatever. Naturally he's smiling because A) he's got a beer in one hand (that you can't see); and B) he's got a golf club in the other hand. Life is good.

I have some video taken on this same trip of a one-legged man playing golf. He was riding in the cart with Hubby, and he didn't mind at all when I wanted to take some video. I'll upload that on another day.

Happy weekend!

Flexibility is a Good Thing........

2012-01-19T20:27:00.003-05:00

Flexibility is a GOOD thing, so why did it take me 50 years to figure that out?

Katydid (and Frogger Blogger, when she's not inconsiderate enough to go to GRADUATE SCHOOL and render herself unable to attend sisterly events for a period of time) have both humored me and gone along with my ~~passion~~ ~~dedication~~ ~~obsession~~ ~~attraction~~ psychotic interest in college gymnastics. They have driven to my house to attend home meets (the meets aren't actually at my house, you understand), they have spent nights away from their families and/or dogs (or brought their dogs with them, when we discovered we weren't nearly as sneaky as we thought we were), and they have accompanied me to faraway locations like Nashville and Jacksonville and Birmingham to attend 7-team meets that begin to look like a 3-ring circus.

Because I ~~sometimes~~ ~~often~~ always take even good ideas to ridiculous extremes, I made plans to attend not only all six home gymnastics meets this year, but three away meets. I have already told you about last week's meet, so don't be afraid that I'm going to go into all THAT again.

Katydid and I had made plans to drive to another meet in Alabama tomorrow night, this time in Auburn. It's a much more reasonable drive, only a little over two hours, so we were planning to come back home after the meet, getting back between 12:30 and 1:00 AM.

Katydid is unable to go, however, due to an ongoing illness, and she texted me today to see if I could get someone else to go. My mind immediately started spinning, wondering who besides my sisters would be willing to go along with me to see something they probably don't give two rips about. Hubby doesn't even like to go to the HOME meets, much less drive two and a half hours for one. And get off the golf course early just to do so? Not gonna happen.

Then a thought occurred to me.

"Psst. Hey, Bragger. You spent $10 on the tickets. You could just ... NOT GO. Save the $65 or more in gas. Watch it online. Go to bed at a decent hour. Avoid driving through Atlanta during rush hour." (Even my thoughts are long-winded.)

So I decided not to go, and I'm ... relieved. Worried about Katydid (so I wouldn't have enjoyed myself anyway), but relieved.

It also saved me the added pressure of writing tomorrow night's Favorite Things Friday blog post tonight. It's a win-win-win situation.

And we should win.

The Doctor is In....Wait....Not....

2012-01-18T20:11:00.001-05:00

One of my students came to me yesterday, obviously distressed. She is participating in a weight loss/healthy choices challenge at our school, and she was apparently dismayed to learn that she weighs FIFTY-THREE more pounds than she thought she did.

Of particular concern, though, was her blood pressure, which she said was 146/100. I agreed that was alarming, particularly the bottom number. We discussed some changes she could make, small ones that she could actually put into practice, both to treat the blood pressure and to help her lose weight. I encouraged her to pick very specific things (walk 30 minutes a day rather than "exercise more") and not try to cut out every single bad food all at once.

We talked for a few minutes, and I think I succeeded in making her feel better. As we were wrapping up the conversation, she thanked me and said, "I couldn't even concentrate on my work. I told myself I had to go talk to Dr. [Bragger]."

Holy mother of all that's good.

I hope she doesn't think I'm THAT kind of doctor.

It's the Little Things That Make Me Happy........

2012-01-17T19:39:00.000-05:00

I'm not just a fan of college gymnastics; I'm a student of the sport. By that I mean I like to learn about its inner workings, the technical jargon, the political aspects of it, and even the gossip. I'm no expert by any means, but I enjoy learning about the sport. Few days go by that I don't learn something new, whether I meant to or not.

Because I like hearing what others have to say about college gymnastics (and what I hear most is that most of them hate UGA, hate the Gym Dogs, and won't ever change their minds about that, and yet I continue to read), I routinely visit a message board devoted to college gymnastics. I post sometimes, but very infrequently. Usually my posts are questions about scoring, or policies, or things I'm confused about. I rarely offer up opinions because I'm afraid I'll get my feelings hurt.

Just like in the general population, some people on the board are polite and knowledgeable, and some are stupid and not ashamed for everyone to know it. The following posts were copied and pasted from the site; I did not edit them in any way. You will be able to tell which comment is mine, because I use the same name I use on this blog.

Gymfan04: I know everyone that reads this board is a college gym fanatic & more than likely has a favorite team, myself included. That said, must we bash the gymnasts? They have worked so hard to get where they are & should be commended for it. Yes, there is questionable scoring at times-there always has been & there always will be, that's the nature of the sport. It's not the gymnasts fault that one gymnast scored higher than another gymnast that should have scored the same. Why not enjoy the season & take it for it is, tremendous athletes competing in a sport we all love :)

Year of the Hog: You must have a very liberal definition of bashing.

The fact that fans are interested and passionate enough to discuss and question things on this board and in other forums is a good thing for our sport. No debate=no one watching or caring.

Gymfan04: I'm not saying everyone on here does so, there are a few that go overboard in my opinion. My point was we shouldn't direct our distaste for scoring towards individual gymnasts, rather the way the scoring system is set up.

lsugymfan: totally agree its not the gymnast fault about the scoring of course i love LSU but I love gymnastics what would we do without. Its Olympic year and the college season has started some people on this board should realize that instead of demeaning these gymnast because of toe point form and scoring. Just be grateful and some opinions should be kept hidden regardless if this is a discussion board or forum.

AreYouJoking: So in other words, pretend everything is perfect, give everyone a 10 and eliminate the postseason. Everyone gets a trophy! No opinions for anyone!

lsugymfan: Its people like you Areyoujoking that we can do without most of your post are always condescending or degrading. Your very disrespectful with some of the teams on your post yeah everyone should get a 10 thats not the world of gymnastics since u have so much to say and comment on get your ass out there and compete you take subjective to the top get a life

Bragger: On a positive note, AreYouJoking, I appreciate your use of punctuation in your posts.

louanne: :) Coffee just almost shot out of my nose. [Accompanied by a smiley face emoticon rolling from side to side]

EliteAthlete10: Same here! Although it was green tea. ;-)

When I read the two responses to my post, I went all Sally-Field-like, thinking, "They like me! They really like me!"

Then I realized they have no idea who I am, and I came back to the real world.

But I went back and read them three more times.

Almost Famous.....

2012-01-16T19:19:00.002-05:00

When Katydid and I were walking to Coleman Coliseum for the gymnastics meet Friday night, there were nice police officers directing traffic. FOOT traffic. I've always been kind of smug about the fact that at UGA we have police officers directing traffic after home meets. But I never realized that some places have to direct traffic - FOOT traffic at that - BEFORE the meets. I'll tuck my smugness away where no one can see it.

Anyway, as we crossed the street I was reminded of the time I was almost famous. It took me almost the rest of the way to the Coliseum to tell it, because I get hysterical every time I try to recount the story. Oddly ... no one else thinks it's as funny as I do.

Way back when Sweet Girl was a little bitty thing, we had some kind of official convocation at the University of Georgia. I think it was in 1985, which would have been the 100th anniversary of UGA, so that kind of makes sense. It was apparently a very big deal, because then-Vice-President George Bush was the keynote speaker. The first George Bush.

Because I worked at UGA and the ceremony was in a building right up the street from my office, and because it made me look interested and got me out of the office for a couple of hours, I attended the convocation. I cannot for the life of me tell you to this day anything anyone said at the ceremony.

After the speeches and pomp and circumstance were over, I had to leave to take Sweet Girl to the doctor for a check-up. The streets adjacent to the parking lot where I parked were blocked off, and a policeman was standing in the road directing ... nothing. I approached him to ask what time the streets would be reopened, because clearly my daughter's health was way more important than any old Vice President.

As I opened my mouth to ask my question, the nice policeman snarled, "Lady, get out of the ROAD!"

I looked up, and the Vice Presidential motorcade, flags a-flying and Official Seal of the United States of America a-blazing, was bearing down on me. Fast. Very fast. And their agenda did NOT include stopping for some dumb broad standing in the middle of the road asking a police officer a very legitimate question.

I scurried out of the way, embarrassed and chastened, and never did get the answer to my question. I guess the roads opened up soon enough, though, because I'm not still there.

And that is how I almost got famous.

Dead, but still famous.

Georgia versus Bama.....

2012-01-15T20:40:00.000-05:00

I haven't been to a lot of gymnastics meets away from the home arena, but Katydid and I made the decision (actually, I made it and she was gracious enough to go along with me) to go to the Alabama meet. We are also going to the Auburn meet next weekend, and Sweet Girl and I are going to the one in Florida.

When Hubby and I went to the Meet the Team Dinner a couple of weeks ago, Georgia's head coach came over to us and thanked us for being there. Hubby felt compelled to tell the coach, "She'll be there with y'all in Tuscaloosa."

I kind of expected some coachy reply like:

"Thanks for supporting us."

"You must be a true fan to drive 4 hours to a meet."

"Why don't you come down on the floor and help with the team?"

Not really on that last one.

What he ACTUALLY said to me, though, was: "Boy, you're brave."

Hmm.

It's not that gymnastics fan are especially hostile. We don't boo the other team when they march into the arena. We don't cheer when an opponent falls on an apparatus. We wait for the girl to remount the apparatus, and then we applaud her for continuing. (Even if inside we are SILENTLY saying, "Yes!")

Alabama's gymnastics team is the reigning national champion. And they're just darn good. And this was their home opener. And they have a tremendous fan following. That was what prompted Jay to tell me I was brave for venturing into that arena.

When I called to get tickets, I did request that they be with the (small number of) other Georgia fans. About halfway through the meet, Katydid and I finally spotted them - all the way across the Coliseum, in the OTHER dark corner. What part of WITH the other fans did the guy think I meant? He was very nice, but I guess he snickered when he hung up the phone. So not only were we in enemy territory, we were right there behind enemy lines. We didn't even cheer very loudly for OUR girls.

College gymnastics is a weird sport. (I'm considering writing a "College Gymnastics 101" blog post, if it won't send most of you screaming and tearing your hair out.) It's weird in that there is no defense. And while a winner is announced, wins and losses are irrelevant. Average scores are all that matter (and Regional Qualifying Scores when they start mid-season, but I won't get into THAT) when it comes time to rank teams. Teams don't compete against the same number of other teams. Heck, the other team doesn't even really have to BE there. You could compete in two different places and email the scores in. But I guess judges would be much more expensive that way.

The other thing I think is weird about college gymnastics, at least for the women, is that it's the only sport I can think of in which the athletes compete in full make-up and elaborate (for some) hair-dos.....and bare feet.

We didn't win Friday night, but we only lost by .15. And in the gymnastics world that is not noted as "fifteen hundredths of a point"; it's "a tenth and a half." The weirdities are adding up here.

I don't think anyone voiced it outright, but Georgia wasn't expected to compete that closely with the defending national champions. Our coach is in his third year (although he served as assistant for a legend for seventeen years, so he must know a thing or two), and we haven't replaced the superstars we graduated a few years ago. We still have some awesome talent, but expectations for the program aren't great. Personally, I LIKE it when popular opinion ignores us. I prefer flying under the radar. The pre-season coaches' poll had us listed at #9 (exactly where we finished last season), and following this weekend's competition we should move up to #6. Last weekend we posted the highest score in the country, but not everyone (including Alabama) had competed yet, so rankings don't start until this week. That's fine with me. If you're #1, there's only one way to go. And folks are gunning for you. I prefer they overlook us.

Not only did we keep it close Friday night (and we had a pretty darn good lead after two rotations, but floor exercise proved to be our nemesis again), but we posted a good road score. That's another thing about team calculations - three of your scores MUST be from away meets, so you want some of those to be high scores. I know, it's confusing.

Anyway, I'm glad we went to the meet in Tuscaloosa, but I'm not sure we will go back. It was uncomfortable sitting there in the middle of the other team's fans, and we could have watched it online. It will be two years before we compete there again, though, due to the every-other-year nature of the schedule, and I'm sure by then I will have forgotten how awkward it was. Because I'm a butthead that way.

Here are some Georgia highlights from Friday night:

We had a 9.9 on vault from Cat Hires, a sophomore who has been a powerful vaulter for two years but never could stick the landing. She's now had two sticks in a row. Good for her!

We had a 9.875 on vault from Kat Ding. She also had a 9.875 on bars, which is low for her. She's the reigning national champion on bars and had a 9.975 last week. She's had a 10 coming for two years, and this is her last year to get it.

We had a 9.95 on beam from Shayla Worley, who has found it impossible to live up to the enormous expectations laid out for her. One judge gave her a 10, and the other a 9.9. Still, we will take a 9.95 on the apparatus that is hardest (in my opinion) to get a 10 on.

We didn't have any stellar performances on floor exercise.

Alabama had a 10 and a 9.975 on vault. I told you they were good. If those two vaults hadn't been up there in the stratosphere, we might have held on for the win.

Now before you go accusing me of being the "fanatic" kind of fan who ~~stalks the team~~ travels to ALL the away meets, let me assure you that isn't the case. I'm NOT going to the meet in Salt Lake City. Or the one in Ann Arbor, Michigan.

Yet.

Men Shopping...Unsupervised......

2012-01-14T20:46:00.000-05:00

Hubby and two of his buddies went to the casino after dropping Katydid and me at the gymnastics meet in Tuscaloosa (more on that tomorrow night).

Hubby and one of his buddies both have birthdays this month, so they had some extra "points" on their casino rewards cards, and the points expire at the end of the month. Because the main shops weren't open when they left this morning, their only option for spending the points was a smallish convenience store right down the road from the casino. Hubby filled up my car with gas, so that was a good use of some of the points. He still had a lot, though, so he proceeded to buy the following:

Two drinking glasses with the name of the casino etched on them
Four ink pens: one that has the Sullen Teenager's name, one that says something about a teacher, one with his daughter's initial on it, and one with his own initial on it
A box of chocolates (he gave it to his mother)
A box of Funky Chunky, largish pretzels covered with a combination of chocolate, caramel, and peanut butter. Heaven in a box, and don't think I won't be checking out their website. Uh oh...guess I better log THOSE calories. May as well wait until I finish the box, which shouldn't take long.
Some Oakley sunglasses

His buddy bought the following:

A 12-pack of Diet Mountain Dew
Five or six 5-Hour energy drinks
A Barbie doll (he has one child, about five years old - a boy)
Two packs of cigarettes (he doesn't smoke, nor does his wife, nor any of his friends)
A handheld poker game
Two gallons of anti-freeze

Clearly they need some training.

Favorite Things Friday - Calorie Counter....

2012-01-13T19:19:00.000-05:00

I don't usually use my blog to tout products or websites, and this time next week this website may have fallen off my favorites list.

I took a suggestion from a fellow blogger, DJan, about writing down everything I eat. I'm still struggling with it overall, because I tend to eat things and then neglect to write them down if they will negatively impact my efforts. Note that I don't hesitate to EAT them; I just don't write them down.

One of my co-workers told me about the Calorie Count website. There are a gazillion websites out there for counting and tracking calories, and there are probably a ton of them that are better than this one. I go back to what I said a few weeks about about the concept of "favorite" being a fluid situation.

I like this site because it's user-friendly, it allows you to track activity AND food, and it has the usual communities and message boards for support. I'm a techno-geek, though, so the feature that I found coolest was the fact that you can download the app onto a smartphone and scan the barcode on a packaged food to add it to that day's log. I was at school when I downloaded it, so I walked around my classroom trying to find things to add to my log. Books, boxes of pencils, anything that had a barcode. If any of it had registered, I would have been forced to eat it. The one food item that WAS in my cabinet was sugar-free instant spiced apple cider. Its little barcode wasn't recognized. Buttheads.

There are quirks with the site. In the first place, when I entered my personal data, it suggested that I weigh 120 pounds. Hello? Did you see my birthdate? Do you really think a 50-year-old who has struggled with her weight all her life will EVER weigh 120 pounds again? I mean, without several amputations?

The site also suggested I stick to a diet of 1200 calories. And that was after I told it I was "moderately active." I can't stay under 1200 calories by 11:00 AM.

It was possible to change both the goal weight and the daily calories, though, and even with those changes the website said I could reach my goal weight by May 14. Of this year.

You knew I would find something to snark at regarding this site, though, didn't you?

You know how some websites take keywords and then related advertisements pop up in the sidebar when you're finished with whatever you're doing? I've noticed it on Blogger, on message boards, and now on the Calorie Count website. What I don't understand is where they're getting the keywords.

Today alone these advertisements appeared in the sidebar:

Special K Challenge (twice - duh, it IS a calorie counting website)
Why Men Lose Attractions: 10 Ugly Mistakes Women Make (I don't have a webcam at school, so how did they know?)
Prepare to Be Shocked: Take the FREE RealAge Test (I'm not ashamed of my age, so why do I want to take your dumb test?)
Fun Brain Test Games (maybe they knew I was a teacher and, surrounded by teenagers, my brain has become mostly mush)
Negligencia Medica? (uh...I've got no clue on this one.)

And the two most shocking suggested advertisements of all:

2012 BCS Champion Gear
The University of Alabama

Have they freakin' MET me? Maybe they hijacked my computer and knew I was going to Tuscaloosa this weekend.

As a matter of fact, even as you read this, Katydid and I are on the campus of the University of Alabama for a gymnastics meet.

But that doesn't mean I'm going to buy any of their stinkin' championship gear.

Special People.....

2012-01-12T19:11:00.000-05:00

Every now and then I like to write about people who are special in my life. I have to walk a thin line, though, not wanting to violate someone's privacy even while expressing my love/admiration/respect for him or her.

This week's contestants are the precious couple pictured below.

Looking at this picture is the first time I've realized how much she looks like her mother.

Get over it, kid, we're ALL destined to look like our mothers.

They really ARE fun people, but they don't like to show it in photographs. Here's another one from a family reunion a couple of years ago.

They really WERE happy to be there, and don't let them try to convince you otherwise.

This is my niece and her ~~boyfriend~~ husband. It's so hard for me to realize they are married. I don't know why, since they are certainly of legal marrying age (barely) and I was THERE when they exchanged vows.

They were the precious folks who planned an outdoor wedding in August, thereby single-handedly ending the drought that had gripped Georgia for the past couple of decades. I took pictures at their wedding, and there were very few decent ones. The majority of them were marred by a lens that fogged over every time we went outside to take pictures. And the inside of the church wasn't psychologically ready for the wedding to be moved inside. I still feel awful about the quality of the pictures. There was another (supposed) photographer there, but apparently she wasn't all that.

These are two incredibly smart human beings. Their future children are destined to be geniuses (geniusi?). While they both spent a very short time at my alma mater (endearing them to me forever), they both subsequently transferred to a DIFFERENT university that has the name Georgia in it, but unfortunately ends with Tech. Having endeared themselves to me forever already, though, I couldn't hold it against them. I think he's majoring in (and I know I'm going to get this wrong, sweet niece, so don't hesitate to correct me) something with the words "bio" and "medical" and "physics" all contained in the name. I think she's majoring in ... majoring.

They are both witty, probably the quality I most admire in people, because it implies not only intelligence but also a sense of humor. They like to make fun of the same people I do, for the same reasons. They probably make fun of ME when I'm not there, but I would prefer to remain blissfully ignorant.

And while we're talking about special people...

You should see the little guy on the other end of these feet.

(Forgive me...I have a thing for baby feet.)

Pet Peeve......

2012-01-11T20:25:00.002-05:00

I'm not sure that title is correct for this post, because pet peeves are, by definition, petty, and I don't think this (particular) irritant is petty at all.

I sort of lost my mind for a couple of minutes the other day. Unfortunately, a couple of minutes is long enough to send a text message that has the potential to render you an indentured slave for the rest of your life.

Fortunately, that is not what happened to me the other day when I temporarily lost my mind.

A couple of my students are taking online courses with the school I used to teach with part-time. I logged on to check on their statuses, and I found myself sort of missing that other world. What is WRONG with me?

So I fired off a text message to my former department chair (because she usually doesn't pick up her cell phone and is spotty about returning emails - great leader, huh?), the one who told me she refused to acknowledge that I had resigned and instead was going to list me as "inactive."

I said in the text, "Hey, it's _____." (Another aside: I identified myself because it wasn't uncommon for her to respond to a text message with "Who's this?" Hurts my feelings when I'm not important enough to be in someone's address book.) "How are you? I have officially applied for retirement, so life is good. I don't know what your numbers are like, but if you get desperate..."

I didn't want it to sound like I was desperate to go back to that part-time job. I wasn't sure I even wanted it to sound like I would go back if they WERE desperate. But as I approach retirement (and I DID officially apply last week, and I haven't stopped smiling yet), it would be nice to have something to fall back on, a source of income in addition to my retirement.

And I distinctly remember writing a blog post about how relieved I was to give up that full-time-stress-for-part-time-pay job and asking my readers to help me remember that feeling.

WHERE WERE Y'ALL WHEN I SENT THAT TEXT MESSAGE?

Not to worry ... I am not in danger of becoming an indentured slave. Again.

Because I'm finally (much to your relief, I'm sure) getting around to the point of this post.

I got no response.

Even Hubby, who isn't the world's most prolific texter, will respond to a text with "K." It's one letter. Very few key strokes. Two, in fact. The letter "k" and the word "send." Two strokes.

And that's my pet (which isn't so petty, in my opinion) peeve: People who don't even respond to a text message or an email.

Let's just say, for argument's sake, that my former department chair wasn't as crazy about me as she pretended to be. Let's just say she was glad to be rid of me. Let's say she wouldn't hire me back if there were a semi-apocalypse and I was the last English teacher remaining on what's left of Earth.

She could at least acknowledge receipt of the text message.

"Thanks. I'll keep you in mind."

"Gosh, our numbers are way down. Sorry."

"You must be a glutton for punishment."

"Yay! I'm on it, girlfriend!"

Any of these would have been appropriate responses.

Instead I got deafening silence. Which, again, kind of hurts my feelings.

She had these tendencies when I worked for the online school, so it's not like I'm surprised or anything. When I was working for them, I would occasionally run into a situation for which I needed help. I know, I know, hard to believe, right? I would ONLY call my department chair if there happened to be something with the online platform that I couldn't figure out myself, or if it were something for which I thought I needed higher authority. Now keep in mind she worked full-time for the online world, which meant she was at home. All. the. time. On duty. All. the. time. And she never once picked up her cell phone when I called. I would leave a detailed message and ask her to call me back. Instead, I would get an almost instant email from her, in which she would try to solve my problem as she understood it to be.

And I would think to myself, "No, dumbass, that's NOT what the issue is. If you would pick up the DAMN PHONE, I could explain it to you."

My feelings aren't REALLY hurt. I know deep in my heart that I don't want to go back to that stressful environment. And I don't want to work for a bunch of cliquish folks who won't even bother to pick up the phone or return an email or respond to a text message.

I guess I just want them to want me.

Maybe it's pettier than I thought.

Then Came You by Jennifer Weiner......

2012-01-10T18:34:00.000-05:00

I haven't done much reading lately. I've been way too busy watching gymnastics meets that I've already seen a dozen times and/or that I attended in person. Oh, and crocheting scarves. And scarves. And scarves.

My reading time is usually limited to the few minutes after I go to bed before I get sleepy. Sometimes that's only a matter of two or three minutes; sometimes it's 30.

I did manage to squeeze this one in during the last couple of weeks, reading it on my iPad.

I was confused by the plot line at first. I understood what was going on, but it took me a while to make the connections among all the characters. (Sometimes I'm a little slow.)

The story is about a woman who decides to become a surrogate, the woman who wants a baby, her step-daughter, and the egg donor. Each chapter is told from the point of view of one of the characters. Sometimes I find that annoying, but it worked very well in this book. I am in awe of authors who can adapt to different characters' voices and still carry the plot line forward.

This book was a very good read, not predictable at all. I found the characters very human and could relate to most of them easily.

Future Christmas Gifts.....

2012-01-09T19:43:00.003-05:00

Right around Christmas, Hubby and I heard a news item on one of the Atlanta stations about a theft from a man's car. Apparently he had retrieved a Christmas gift from a safe, driven to a different location, and locked it in the trunk of his car. When he returned to his car, someone had broken into it and stolen the gift. He stated he had almost certainly been followed, for someone to know something that valuable was in the trunk of his car.

The gift? A $27,000 necklace he had bought for his wife.

Upon hearing that story, I told Hubby, "If you're ever inclined to buy me something like that for Christmas, just buy me a $7,000 necklace. I'll take the rest of it in cash."

I guess it's just a matter of different priorities. I can't imagine a $700 necklace, much less wearing something that is worth $27,000. But those aren't the things that make me happy, and I'm not criticizing people who ARE made happy by that type of thing.

If I had $27,000, or thought I might receive a gift worth that much, I don't think I would spend it on jewelry. Or clothes.

I might buy a new motorhome. (Trading in the one we already have, of course.)

I might do some renovations on our house. Starting with my bathroom. But don't tell Hubby, because he'll buy a new living room suit and have to tear down the whole damn house to accommodate it.

There are several things I might want to buy with my windfall, but they would be small things that would add up to $27,000.

I would probably pay off Sweet Girl's car.

I would most definitely NOT wear something worth $27,000 around my neck.

The Birthday Boy.....

2012-01-08T20:30:00.001-05:00

For some reason, at some point today I realized it's Gus's birthday. He is seven years old today, and I can't remember what life was like before we had him. We didn't do anything silly like bake a doggie cake or even make him some homemade treats. Goodness knows we don't need to give him any more excuses to expect royal treatment.

I swear to you, when I got ready to take this picture, I patted my recliner and told him to get up there. Then I told him to smile. I promise you I didn't give him a treat or any food or even put peanut butter in his mouth. He just smiled.

It's hard to believe he once looked like this. I think he was wondering what in the world had happened to him.

"Please, can I just go back to my mommy now?"

His fur began to fill out and his darker colored spots started showing up.

Personally, I like him with a longer coat, but it's just such a bear to brush. I mean, it's such a bear that the groomer charges extra to groom him when we let his hair get this long.

And then we have to shave him. I don't blame you, Gusman, I would turn my back on the folks who made me look like this too.

He has such a unique personality.

I don't know what we would do without him.

Happy Birthday, Gusman!

Slap Scarf Happy.....

2012-01-07T21:07:00.002-05:00

Right before New Year's Eve, I wrote a post about my new favorite scarf pattern, and the fact that the main reason it was my favorite was that I made it up myself.

Since then I've become a little ... scarf happy.

First I made this one, the one I referenced in the blog post.

Note to self: If you want to use a certain piece of furniture to hold up your scarves for a picture, you might try using something that has been DUSTED RECENTLY. You're welcome.

The scarf is a little wide, but I think it's serviceable.

Then I made a black one for Hubby, and he swears he actually wore it on the golf course one day last week. I didn't put a fringe on his, because he said a fringe was "girly." (Is he right?)

Mom saw me crocheting Hubby's scarf, and she wanted one too, but in dark brown, and only about half as wide. I don't have a picture of that one, because I hurried to finish it and put it in the mail before our trip to Atlantic City.

Then I made this one.

I could make about 30 of these if I were so inclined (and might be, depending upon the weather and how the football playoffs go). I have several HUGE skeins of off-white yarn, mistakenly ordered for a project that I started but hated immediately.

Then I made this one, using the softer yarn of the type I use to make baby afghans. I purposely made the fringe a little shorter on this one, just experimenting with different lengths.

At Sweet Girl's request, I made this one in alternating red and black. I like the way it turned out, but I'd rather not have to figure out when to change colors and deal with the whole switching back and forth thing. Call me lazy. (I will put this one in the mail Monday.)

That's a total of six scarves I've made in this pattern so far, and I'm not even tired of it yet. I don't know why I like it so much, unless it's that it keeps its shape, I don't have to count stitches, and I can alter the pattern slightly to make it wider or narrower, longer or shorter, fringed or not. I've got lots of extra yarn (other colors in addition to the off-white), so I could stay busy for a while making scarves.

This pattern also works up fairly quickly. I can finish one in about a day and a half, if I take time out to eat and go to the bathroom.

What am I going to do with them, you ask?

I have no idea.

I thought about taking them to our family reunion next summer and putting them in the auction or the store, but really, how many scarves can I expect to sell in June in South Carolina in the marsh? MAYBE some of them might look far enough ahead to think about Christmas gifts, and MAYBE some of them might buy them just to contribute to the family coffers and pet my ego a little bit. Maybe.

I also thought about selling them on Etsy, but I've never done that before. When I looked on the site, it looked as though roughly the same number of people as the population of Rhode Island had scarves for sale. I wouldn't have any idea how much to ask for one.

Before I made this batch of scarves, I crocheted one in a different pattern for one of my favorite bloggers.

Dang it, why couldn't I have discovered the prettier pattern BEFORE I used up all that hot pink yarn? I hope she likes it anyway.

I may have to take time out from the scarves to make another baby afghan. Either way, I have enough projects to keep me occupied through the long six-week winter we typically have in the South. Tee hee.

(Okay, okay, sometimes it's eight weeks. Ten in a really harsh year.)

Another Friday Failure.....

2012-01-06T22:38:00.001-05:00

That title sounds a bit melodramatic, don't you think?

I just mean that I don't have a Favorite Things Friday topic planned out, and it's way past my bedtime. Tonight was the season opener for the college gymnastics season .... ahhhhhhhhh ....

It was a win for UGA, and probably the best of both worlds: a decent score (highest season opener since 2008), but not terribly high. There's still room for improvement, which should keep the competition going in the gym. I would make a terrible gymnastics coach, trying not to post ridiculously high scores at the beginning of the season. I would be all-out every meet, and I would wind up like SOME COLLEGE TEAM WE ALL KNOW AND LOVE TO HATE, posting huge scores out of the gate and then crashing and burning at nationals, when everything counts.

One-third of our scores tonight came from freshmen, which should bode well for the future.

Our reigning national champion on bars, who has deserved a 10 for the last two years, should have gotten one tonight. One judge gave her a 10, the other a 9.95. Her score of 9.975 ties her career record, and I think it's the third time she's gotten it. She's a senior this year, and I think she's destined to get that 10.

Our score should move us up in the national rankings, and we have a couple of individual gymnasts who will be right up there on a couple of events. All in all it was a good night.

Good night.

Our Atlantic City Trip.....

2012-01-05T20:03:00.000-05:00

Hubby and I traveled to a certain casino in Atlantic City for our Christmas-gift-to-each-other trip this year. It was one of those deals where the casino paid for our airfare and accommodations (and we wound up getting all of our meals except one comped), and all we had to do was gamble.

Whenever anyone has asked us how the trip was, we have both replied, "It was all right."

But I have to stop and wonder here: Would our responses be any more enthusiastic if we had won a boatload of money? Or any money? Does the whole experience get colored by our success (or lack thereof) in the casino? Hmmm....

One thing that was different in this casino was its setup. To get to the registration desk, you had to go THROUGH the casino itself. Hauling your luggage. Every other casino I've been to has been set up so that the casino is in the center, with security people standing at every opening to guard against minors being on the casino floor. But this one forced everyone to march right through the middle of the action.

And speaking of minors, why do people bring CHILDREN to a casino in the first place? It wasn't like there was anything for them to do. There was a pool (outdoor, but with a cool dome built over it so people could actually swim in it), but even it had a sign that said only people 21 and over could use it.

Our flight was late leaving Atlanta, so it was probably around 8:00 PM when we got to our hotel/casino. We didn't stay up super late, and when we went to bed the noise from the room next door was horrendous. There were two adult women and about three or four children, and you could hear every word any of them said. And every other one of those words was "m***** f***er." That's from the kids AND the women. You could hear the video games the kids were playing. Every time they slammed the door. Flushed the toilet.

When we started down for breakfast the next morning, that family was checking out. Hubby and I did a little happy dance right there in the elevator. We didn't have a lot of luck that day, and we turned in very early (our usual bedtime - 7:30 PM) that night. Hubby went to sleep immediately, and I read on my iPad while a football game played in the background. I started hearing something from the room next door and got curious, so I muted the television for a second. I was immediately sorry I had done so. Yes, they were doing THAT, and apparently she liked it. I don't think they came to gamble. On the third night, another loud family moved in. Sigh.

I know I shouldn't stereotype or assume things about people from different parts of the country. The casino we frequently visit in Mississippi is in a very, very rural area. It's where I took a 65-mile bike ride and was at 49 miles before I found a store. That's rural. The first time we went there, we were absolutely thrilled to find a Wally World. Rural.

I expected to find a different clientele in Atlantic City. I even packed differently - no jeans, and only two pairs of shoes: a pair of high-heeled black boots and what I called my "wicked" shoes (destined to be featured on a Favorite Things Friday). Midway through day 2, I would have sold my soul to the devil for a pair of sneakers. Especially after playing craps for a couple of hours, because I had to stand up.

But casino people in Atlantic City were just like casino people I've seen everywhere else. Lots of blue jeans and t-shirts, lots of shorts and flip-flops (hello? 50 degrees is not THAT warm). Now I'm no snob and I'm certainly not one to hand out fashion advice, but I was surprised that people were dressed as casually as they were.

We could have taken a shuttle to any of four other casinos owned by the same folks, but we didn't even venture outside the whole time we were there. And I certainly wasn't of a mind to WALK anywhere.

I'm not sorry we went, but it's not a place we'll probably go back again. On the other hand, if they send us a free trip to Vegas, color me there.

Speaking of colors: We had a pretty good run on the craps table one night, and Hubby was cashing in his chips. I saw the dealer hand him an orange chip ($1000), and I yelled down the table, "We don't DO orange! Get two purples!" The dealers were quite puzzled. Hubby, paying me about as much attention as he usually does, happily took his orange chip. And gave it back to them the next day.

First Day of My Last Semester.....

2012-01-04T20:50:00.000-05:00

I promise you I'm not going to carry this theme out for all 90 89 days remaining in this semester. You might get sick of hearing about my impending retirement. Unless you're sick of it already, in which case I apologize.

I was the first one at school today. That includes the custodian, who is ALWAYS there before me, and our math teacher, whom I have accused of sleeping at her desk because she's there when I leave and there when I arrive. I TOLD you I was ready to get this semester underway.

Our school day officially begins at 8:50. The person who is notorious for not showing up for work and not calling and ultimately having to have the police called to his house to do a welfare check only to discover that he's actually at the grocery store finally dragged in at 8:45, looking like hell. Baby Luke's daddy was already out (he spent the entire Christmas break in the hospital with the baby, so he's taking some time off now, and who can blame him?), so I was just about ready to panic when ~~the Freak~~ my co-worker finally dragged in.

But that's not what I started to write about.

By 8:30, I had already had a conference with a student about a practice essay he wrote in the car sometime during Christmas break. He has failed our state writing test, and he wanted to practice to improve his skills. I think he has been mostly home schooled, and they must focus a lot on facts and figures and not so much on writing essays and spelling words correctly. But he really wants to improve, he listens to instruction and accepts constructive criticism, and I'll take those any day over the smart-asses who already know everything and are only there to go through the motions of school.

By 8:40, I had given a mini-lesson to this same student on active and passive voice.

And at 4:00, when I was on the way home, I found myself wondering, "Wait...was this just ONE day?"

50 Things Update.....

2012-01-03T20:43:00.001-05:00

It's been almost a year since I posted the "50 Things to Do" in the year during which I turned 50.

(Prepositions really give me trouble. Could we just do away with them?)

Surprisingly, I didn't do all 50 things on my list. It's surprising because I'm ~~mildly~~ ~~sort of~~ extremely OCD about lists and goals and things like that, and I shocked myself by NOT killing myself to cross every single one of them off the list.

I'll post the ones I managed to complete, along with a link to the blog post explaining how and when I finished them.

3. Take a hot air balloon ride
6. Eat a new type of food
8. Get a massage
11. Take a yoga class
12. Take a spinning class
13. Take a water aerobics class
14. Knit something
15. Attend play at local theater
16. Take a kayak trip
18. Run/walk in a 5K/10K/half marathon
19. Run/walk the Peachtree Road Race
20. Become debt-free
21. Take golf lessons/play a round of golf
23. Perform random acts of kindness
25. Try vegetarianism for 7 days
30. Take a trapeze class at Canopy Studio
31. Have $______ in savings
33. Go to a UGA basketball game
34. Go to a UGA women’s basketball game
35. Go to a UGA baseball game
36. Go to a hockey game (Gwinnett Gladiators)
38. Ride my bike 2500 miles
40. Attend gymnastics Regional Championships
43. Be “overweight” on the Wii instead of “obese”
44. Ride bike in at least one of the counties in Georgia where I've not yet ridden
47. Ride local roads I’ve not ridden before
50. Go to the chiropractor

Now for the ones I didn't accomplish. Some of them are things I still have as goals; they just didn't happen this year. Some of them I've either lost interest in, or I just put them on the list to begin with because I needed 50 things. Full disclosure here.

1. Take a pottery lesson - I met a woman on the kayak trip in June who teaches pottery, and she has "clay church" at her house on Sundays. This one is still in the realm of possibility, but to be honest this woman ... and she's VERY, VERY sweet ... is one of those types who, if you show interest, will have you staying at her house for a week while she grooms all of your pets and has her mechanic look over your car and signs you up for a weeklong hike in the Adirondacks.

2. Take a photography class - I've kind of lost interest in this one. I have a so-so camera and what I consider a very nice camera, and with both of them I occasionally take (accidentally, you understand) some quite passable pictures. That's enough for me. I watch them scroll by on my laptop or my iPad, and the memories they provide are enough for me. I don't want to turn it into something I have to understand.

4. Visit a national park - I realized I had already done this one, although I wasn't aware it was a national park at the time. I dragged Hubby here on our way to Florida very early in our marriage, and he hasn't spoken to me since. It wasn't really on the way, and while it was fraught with history ... it was standing in the way of the beach.

5. Study a new foreign language - Well, at least I picked a language. I would like to learn some Italian, because I fully intend to take Hubby to Italy someday. He wants to see Rome, and I would love to see it too, since that's once place Sweet Girl and I didn't get to see on our trip to Italy. Oh, SWEET GIRL has since been to Rome (thank you, U.S. Navy), but I've never been. It's sort of cheating to choose Italian, since it has so many similarities to the little bits of French and Spanish (and teeny tiny bits of Latin) I already know.

7. Meet a blogger in person - Definitely still on the table. This one will be much easier to accomplish after retirement.

9. Learn more about how to play the hammered dulcimer - I don't know why I haven't approached this one yet. I have the book, I have the DVD, and oh yeah, I have the hammered dulcimer. And I would really like to do more than just pick out a tune on it. Still on the table, but obviously not a priority.

10. Take a formal art class - Have completely lost interest. I would still love to paint and perhaps do some watercolor work, but kind of like photography, I don't want it to be like "school."

17. Write some poetry - I have done this one. But the poetry is so bad (and so personal) that I'm not willing to offer it up as proof, so I'll just pretend I haven't done it.

22. Read 5 novels from the all-time list (I think it was published by Time magazine) - I'm wavering on this one too. Because reading a book because SOMEONE thinks I should is too much like school too. I'd rather read what I choose to read. For now.

24. Volunteer at a hospital/hospice/nursing home/homeless shelter - I'm not ready for this one. And that makes me just a teensy bit ashamed of myself. Those people probably weren't ready to be in those places either, and they don't get to choose.

26. Take ballroom dancing lessons - I was kind of cheating on this one. My intention was to wait until our next cruise and then either shame Hubby into taking a couple of lessons on the boat (doubtful and completely dependent upon the quantities of beer consumed) or go alone (much more likely). But I don't think we are going to take a cruise this year after all, and I'm certainly not going to sign up for 6 weeks of lessons by myself.

27. Visit the High Museum in Atlanta - Definitely still in the works. In fact, there's an exhibit at the High right now that I'd love to see, entitled Picasso to Warhol. In looking for this link I also discovered that they are also having an exhibit entitled The Art of Golf, which I may ... just may ... be able to drag Hubby to see. Have to catch him on a cold, rainy day.

28. Have a yard sale - Personally, I'd rather just donate my stuff to goodwill. It's much less trouble and I can feel good about contributing something to charity.

29. Ride a unicycle - I have taken steps toward achieving this particular item. I have a unicycle. I have been on it. And I've been off it. I haven't taken enough pedal strokes to constitute "riding" it, though, so I'm not ready to mark it off the list. When I can find a flat spot with pavement and a fence to hold onto and where no one can watch me, I'll give it another go.

32. Take pictures of places I’ve lived - I still want to do this one, too. The one place that is holding me back right now is the trailer park where we lived when I was about ages 5 to 10. It's a little bit scary now, and I'd be afraid to go in there alone. And if I start taking pictures, well.... Maybe I should just leave this one off and take pictures of the rest.

37. Go to the Tipsy Canvas - I still want to do this one too. I love the concept - take your own bottle of wine, get some lessons in painting a specific subject (would that count as a formal art lesson, I wonder?), and socialize with friends while you do it. Definitely a Warrior Princess activity. But we're going to need a designated driver.

39. Hike part of the Appalachian Trail - This one needs to be a day trip with Rozmo and Katydid, and perhaps Jenny Frog. It will require a drive of about 2 hours to get to the Georgia end of the AT. The hard part is that any day that is fine enough to hike is also fine enough to ride bikes. Maybe we could combine them. Hmmmm....

41. Make something in filet crochet - I have a pattern, and I THINK I grasp the concept now, but my eyes and fingers are the problem. The crochet hook and thread are so fine that it causes me great frustration to try this one. Maybe I should find a pattern for a wall hanging and do it in regular yarn...

42. Join Friends of Yargo - I didn't realize that we already sort of do this when we buy our annual pass for Fort Yargo, which is the state park just across the road from our house. What I really meant was I intended to join the group of volunteers that pick up trash and trim the hedges and cut the grass around the park one or two weekends a month. Yeah, I'd just rather kayak and hike.

45. Write a book - I have the book in my head. Actually, I have 3 books in my head. And I've written a great portion of one of them. I may finish it. Them. Or I may not.

46. Buy and experiment with Photoshop - Just like the photography class, I've lost interest. I'll never have "actions" and I'm over it.

48. Ride the double-century to Anniston and back - Definitely still in the works, and I'm aiming for this year. It's easiest done during the week when the Silver Comet Trail isn't nearly so busy, so it's a nice post-retirement thing to do.

49. Write a will - We really, really, really need to do this one. When I put it on my list, I thought it would be easy, using one of those online services. Then someone told me those online wills weren't worth the paper they're not written on (I'm hilarious), so I discarded it. Plus I don't really have that many possessions anyway. Not that anyone would want.

So there they are, my 50 Things to Do or Not, Depending Upon How Capricious I Feel at Any Given Moment. (Is that a correct usage of the word "capricious"?)

I toyed with the idea of coming up with 51 NEW things for this year, but then I came to my senses. I will, however, strive for some new experiences this year, whether they are on the list or not. I may start with "suturing a wound myself" if the cut on my left hand does NOT stop bleeding soon. Apparently if the little foil tab on a bottle of wine breaks off, using a steak knife to cut the foil thingie off is not the best approach.

Let's Hope It Wasn't a UGA Student.....

2012-01-02T19:39:00.003-05:00

I will apologize in advance for the fact that some of you will not find this post as hilarious as I do. I myself would find it much funnier if we had actually WON THE DAMN GAME today. And that's all I'm going to say about that. It would also be funnier if you knew my brother and how quick he is.

My thanks go out to Katydid for recording the (losing) game and offering visual support for this blog post. It proves the adage that "you can't make this stuff up."

If you don't follow college football, you may not be aware that when we cheer for our Georgia Bulldogs, we don't say "Go Bulldogs." It is "Go Dawgs." Always has been, always will be.

(Personally, I struggle a bit with the grammatically incorrect "How 'bout them Dawgs," but I can usually overcome it.)

If you say, "Go Bulldogs," you immediately label yourself an imposter. Or an idiot. When someone yelled "Go Bulldogs" at Bubba Watson at some golf tournament last year, he should have walked over and plonked him or her with a nine iron. I'm just sayin'.

Early in the game today, the television scanned the crowd very briefly, and a fan in the stands was holding up this poster:

It was so brief that Hubby didn't see it, and I think he thought I was making it up when I said to him, "Seriously? Go Dwags?" (Double thank you, Katydid, since I was able to prove it to him.)

My brother, however, saw the sign too, because he texted me, "GO DWAGS"????? I was so happy someone besides me had seen it.

Then when UGA's Tavarres King scored on an 80-yard pass play, brother texted me, "TOUCHDWON!!!"

I told him he gave me a warm feeling all over, because I had just peed on myself. Then he replied, "SRROY." I was gasping for air when I handed Hubby my cell phone so he could read the message.

Seriously?
Don't you kind of pencil the words in before you paint them? (Okay, okay, maybe not this particular sign.)

Don't you kind of stand back and admire your handiwork?

Don't you show your friends and family what you're going to hold up for the television cameras during the game?

DID NO ONE NOTICE THE MISSPELLING?????

It's fans like the one holding this sign that give us Georgians a bad name. It's not enough that we mispronounce our mascot on purpose, but some of us (one of us?) can't even SPELL it!

Football season for UGA is officially over, and we have nine months to lick our wounds from this one. In the meantime...

BRING ON GYMNASTICS SEASON IN 4 DAYS!!!

Happy New Year!..........

2012-01-01T21:56:00.001-05:00

I love the fact that Hubby doesn't want to go out and party on New Year's Eve. Not only is his birthday on New Year's Day, but until he retired, most years he had to WORK on January 1st, so partying the night before was not an option.

Last night I crocheted, we watched football, Hubby went to bed earlier than I did, and we were both sound asleep long before the New Year rang in. It seems to manage to find its way every year without us there to blow horns and welcome it.

I did go meet Warrior Princess for appetizers so we could FINALLY exchange Christmas gifts. I got her a gift basket with wine and goodies from my new favorite online shopping website. She gave me a gift basket with wine and goodies... that she put together herself. Painted the basket, made the dip, decorated everything beautifully. Sigh. She's so creative, and I am so ... lame. Still, we had to giggle that we know each other so well.

Today Hubby played golf, since the weather was predicted to be in the mid-60's and sunny. Conditions are supposed to deteriorate rapidly in the next few days, however, dipping down into the teens. I was NOT put in the South to withstand temperatures in the teens. That's probably not the last time you will hear me say that before spring. Since Hubby was playing golf (and really, wasn't he entitled to play on his birthday, of all days?), I took a bike ride. It didn't feel as warm as they said it was supposed to be, and it was very windy. The wind is also not my friend when I'm on my bike. I rode 26 miles and made it home in time to bake a sugar-free birthday cake for Hubby. (It was a mix with canned frosting, but still.)

Only one more day of vacation, and there will be lots of college football on television tomorrow. Usually I am very grumpy at this point, lamenting the impending return to school after Christmas break. This year, however, I'm saying, "Bring it on." The only way to get this year over with is to get back to it.

Happy New Year!

Noteworthy Blog Posts from 2011.....

2011-12-31T21:29:00.002-05:00

Last year or the year before, I started a tradition of posting the links to my favorite blog posts from the year, one each month. Some of them were chosen because I thought they represented my best sarcasm, because they were especially humorous (at least to me), or they were deeply thought-provoking. Sometimes I couldn't even tell you WHY they were my favorites; they just were.

Continuing that tradition this year, I've already struggled to find a good entry from .... January. That doesn't bode well for the rest of the year.

I've also discovered that I have repeated myself in blog entries. (It's not like I EVER do that in REAL LIFE or anything.) I mean, I've written the same stories more than a year apart, and the sad part is that I HAVE NO RECOLLECTION OF HAVING WRITTEN THEM THE FIRST TIME! Is it time for me to hang up my blogging? Or stick to books I've read? Or a "What I Did Today" format? I don't want to become stale and boring. Er.

Anyway, here are the blog entries I found noteworthy from the last year. I'll also give a brief explanation of why I found each one worthy of re-posting, and you can decide for yourself whether or not you want to revisit it.

January - This post was about a friend from high school whose father disinherited her from his will because he didn't agree with her lifestyle. It tugged at my heart strings because I have a few dear, dear friends (and a dear, dear cousin) who live a different lifestyle from my own. I made a donation in her father's memory to the account she had set up, then I wrote her a personal note and posted on her FB page. I got nothing back from her. No thank you, no email, no acknowledgement of any kind. Now I'm of the opinion that you should do things with a generous heart and NOT for the thanks/acknowledgement/gratitude you THINK you might be due, but I still felt slighted that she didn't respond at all.

February - This was one of my many "random thoughts" posts, but these were almost all related to a particular day of cycling. I like writing in that format because I don't have to worry about structure or connectedness or all those other things related to writing.

March - This post was one of my favorites just because it featured several pictures of Sweet Girl back when she was both. Sweet. And a girl. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. (I'm teasing, Sweet Girl. Just making sure you're still reading.)

April - I still laugh about this one and occasionally tell the story to complete strangers, about the time when I texted Hubby a question about a purchase that showed up on his debit card and he was still at the store. I am constantly amazed by the feats of modern technology.

May - I wrote this letter to myself about expectations at the end of the school year and not to be surprised that students who have been slackers for the whole semester will continue to be slackers right up to the end. I re-posted it tonight to serve as a reminder to myself that as my remaining days dwindle in number, they will NOT become easier.

June - This blog title is an expression of Hubby's, and this blog post is a reminder to myself not to get all worked up and bothered by something (in other words, not to act like my mother) until I know all the facts. Every time I start to fly off the handle (well, ALMOST every time), I try to remind myself not to jump to convulsions.

July - This blog post came from a spontaneous game Hubby and I started playing while we were sitting on the beach. I love memories like this, about things that are so simple and that would be so meaningless to other people, but are special to us. Or maybe I'm just being stupidly sentimental because it's New Year's Eve and tomorrow is Hubby's birthday.

August - This was one of my attempts at humor, writing both about the silliness of Twitter and what silliness I would write if I didn't think it was too silly to use Twitter in the first place.

September - I wrote this post comparing my job to the game of Whack-a-Mole, and I thought it was nothing short of a BRILLIANT analogy. As the new semester starts next week, I'll have to make a mental note to keep a log of some memorable whack-a-mole moments.

October - I still think it's funny that I thought my digital clock was showing an error message. This blog post also serves as a reminder to me that it's okay to laugh at myself every ~~day~~ now and then.

November - This blog post was about a stranger buying our dinner at a steakhouse. The generosity and spontaneity still boggle my mind.

December - I almost can't stand to ride with Hubby in his new car, because he thinks if it GOES fast, then he should DRIVE fast. The only thing worse is when I drive it and fall into some of the same behaviors.

Happy New Year to all my readers and followers. I love each and every one of you, and I cherish your loyalty and your comments. May 2012 bring you peace, prosperity, love, and happiness.

Good to Be Home.....

2011-12-30T22:44:00.001-05:00

I know it's Friday and I should have planned far enough in advance to KNOW that I wouldn't be home at a decent enough hour to write my Favorite Things Friday blog post. I should have KNOWN there would be a wreck on I-85 that would tie traffic up for MILES. It is Friday, after all, and a holiday weekend, so that's just a bonus.

If the pilot had let us know when we crossed the Mason-Dixon line, I would have done a little happy dance right there in the aisle of that plane. A Georgia girl does not belong in Joy-see. I'm just sayin'.

I had a topic all planned out for this week's Favorite Things Friday, but it will just have to wait. I also have a future blog post with some observations about casinos and casino people. And some observations about myself and flying that confirm what most of us already knew, that I am INSANE.

It's been a long time since the yogurt parfait I had for breakfast, so I'm going to have some graham crackers and peanut butter and go to bed. In my own bed. Without accompanying sounds from the room next door.

Even if we ARE out of milk.

Happy weekend, y'all!

My Christmas Gifts.....

2011-12-29T21:21:00.000-05:00

I know Christmas isn't supposed to be all about the gift-giving, but I do want to let everyone know how much I appreciate the gifts I received this year.

Hubby and I agreed several years ago not to exchange gifts. However, this year when Sweet Girl and I were at the UGA bookstore and I lusted after a particular sweater that was WAY too expensive, she (unbeknownst to me) texted a picture of it to Hubby and said, "Buy this for Mom." And being the generous (and practical) guy that Hubby is, when he learned I would be back on campus the following weekend, he showed me the text he had received from Sweet Girl and said, "Go buy this for yourself." And he gave me the money for the sweater. So naturally I felt obligated to go buy him something. But then I didn't.

Our real gift to each other for the last few years has been to take a trip around Christmas time. In fact, we are on said Christmas trip even as you read this, because I'm not sure of the wi-fi availability in this casino (a new one for us) and I took the precaution of pre-posting. Is that even a word? I hope to regale you this weekend (or next week) with stories of our trip to the COLD northern part of our country

Sweet Girl bought me a Coach purse AND a Coach wristlet. It was much more important to her than it was to me that I have a designer purse. But I have to admit the split-strap backpack-type UGA purse I've been carrying for about five years has become rather worn. And stained. And annoying. It also forced me to clean out my purse (so THAT'S where that card was all this time), which is a gift in and of itself. The wristlet is very convenient for taking to the poker table, since I don't like to take my purse into the casino. I'm not sure that was Sweet Girl's goal when she bought it, but it works for me.

Hubby's daughter and granddaughter gave me a very cute (but very HUGE - haven't they noticed?) UGA t-shirt. It has a tropical theme and the words "No Gators Allowed" on it, so I'll wear it to sleep in if nothing else. They also gave us a gift card to a restaurant they know we frequent. Frequently.

Hubby's daughter's (new) boyfriend gave me a Snuggie. I wasn't sure they really existed outside the skits and cheesy commercials. But at least it is a UGA Snuggie, and as cold-natured as I am, it will actually see some use. Besides, it's the thought that counts. They've only been dating for a few months, and the guy she dated for TEN YEARS never saw fit to give us anything for Christmas. So far he's a keeper.

Hubby's sister gave us another restaurant gift card. Do these people know us, or what?

My mother gave me a very generous check. She also said it was NOT a Christmas gift, so technically she didn't give us anything. But it would be ungrateful of me not to mention it anyway.

I am very blessed with family and friends, so the material gifts are just a bonus.

Dear Gym Dogs - The 2012 Version.....

2011-12-28T20:27:00.000-05:00

Dear Gym Dogs:

This time last year I took you to task for everything from your choice of beam music to your introductory video. Having attended the Sneak Peek this year, I'm taking a different approach and accentuating the positive. I won't even pretend to be impartial or objective. I'm trying not to get my hopes up to unrealistic levels, but that's just the fan I am. Please know, however, that I am a true fan. Should you NOT live up to my expectations.... I will still support you, pull for you, and send you enough money that my season tickets, hospitality room passes, and VIP parking pass are secure.

KE - I hate it that you got hurt last year before the first competition. From what I've seen so far, it was truly our loss. Your beam routine is awesome, and I can't wait to see your WHOLE floor routine. With the double layout that I've heard you're capable of but haven't unveiled yet. Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease?

KB - If you make the line-up and are competitive on three events like your coach said you might be, I will take back every single time I ever referred to you as a wasted scholarship. I LOVE your middle pass in your floor routine, and you looked phenomenal on beam. Good for you, taking it upon yourself to get in better shape and polish your skills over the summer. One question: What were you doing the LAST two summers? I'm just sayin'...

KD - I would bet my next paycheck that this year you will finally be awarded the 10.0 you've had coming to you for the past two years. I don't know where they're taking that .025 deduction, but it may be on the half pirouette on the low bar. Get that baby nailed down, and I'm thinking there may be more than ONE perfect 10.0 in your future. I'm proud of you for persevering and making your way into the all-around your senior year. Keep that gorgeous smile, and always make that face you made in the Florida meet last year when you stick a landing.

WK - Welcome to college, baby. Try not to look like you're scared of your own shadow the first time you run out into the Coliseum, and you'll be fine. Just do what you've always done. And smile. It's supposed to be fun.

CT - I have always loved your grace and style, and I don't see where your critics get off making so many comments about desserts and buffet lines. What they call sluggish I see as precise, but who am I to judge objectively? About that side-sommi on beam - either make it pretty or take it out. There aren't many people who can do it beautifully, so if you can't perfect it, throw it out. You've got plenty of other skills. Keep showing your dance skills on floor.

MB - You will always be my favorite walk-on. Your floor routine this year looks like you've been working on your presentation. Good for you. If you don't make the line-up because we have so much depth this year, I will still admire you for sticking around and working so hard even when you have to pay your own way. You rock.

SW - Several people have said this is your year. You've been plagued by injuries, but there have also been rumors of a less-than-stellar work ethic. I hope that is all behind you and you can become a rock your last two years. I've seen you perform at near-perfect levels, so I'm confident you can turn things around. There are records to be broken, so get after them!

GN - Please, please, please take care of your back. We need you on bars and floor! I am so glad they have reduced your tumbling passes to two and still kept enough difficulty to give you a 10.0 start value. I absolutely love that Gienger-to-immediate-shootover on bars. I realize the connection is sometimes difficult to time right, and it doesn't mean a deduction when you don't do it, but it is awe-inspiring when you get it right. That smile of yours is as dazzling as your gymnastics.

SP - I was wowed by that front aerial to immediate scale on balance beam, and I was even more impressed when I learned that it's an E level move. Seriously? E level on BEAM? I hope you are able to compete in the all-around. If you can do that as a freshman, then the future for you - and the Gym Dogs - is a bright one.

CH - Manage to control that landing on vault, and you will be a force to be reckoned with. I was enthralled with your floor routine, too, and I hope you can make the line-up in more than one event this year.

LM - You bailed us out on beam twice last year, once at one of the most important championships of the year. And you calmly posted an impressive 9.875 even as a last-minute substitute. I hope you can find your way back into the line-up this year, and not just due to someone else's injury. You're cute as a button, and you clearly have ice water in your veins. Good for you.

LC - Please, please, please stay healthy. Your skills are amazing, as evidenced by the fact that in your first meet in the all-around last year, you shot to #1 in the nation. I'd love to see you do that again. I appreciate the fact that you also have a triple element flight series on beam, when you're only required to do two.

CD - Another freshman with the potential to do the all-around? Wow. When I first heard your floor music, I couldn't decide whether to be appalled or amused. But then the crowd got into it, and I realized that's what it's all about. The Coliseum will be rocking when they hear that music, so it's up to you to make the line-up.

NC - You've been our rock, especially last year. You led off several events, which means your scores will never be stellar, but your consistency makes you an excellent choice for the lead-off spot. Your facial expressions during your floor routine make it a joy to watch. Keep nailing those vault landings.

BB - You were relegated to the role of cheerleader last year due to injury, and I hope you are able to compete this year, at least on vault.

CP and DH - I don't know enough about either of you to give advice or observations, but welcome to the Gym Dog family.

Your most devoted (obsessed?) fan,

Bragger

Christmas Letter 2012.......

2011-12-27T19:39:00.000-05:00

Because our lives are fairly predictable, and because I relish the opportunity to look into the future, I am going to write our Christmas letter for 2012 in advance. Feel free to contact me this time next year to point out how many times I was wrong. As long as you also allow me to point out how many times I was RIGHT.

January - Bragger and Hubby spent New Year's Day celebrating Hubby's birthday by watching hour upon hour of professional football. The UGA football team started the New Year off right with a win over Michigan State in the Outback Bowl (so sue me). The eagerly awaited 2012 college gymnastics season got off to a hot start. Bragger, accompanied by some combination of Hubby/Frogger Blogger/Katydid attended two meets at home, with a couple of trips to Alabama on consecutive weeks thrown in. Hubby dropped us off in Tuscaloosa for one of them and went on to Mississippi to his favorite casino, where he won enough money to pay for the gas it took to get home. Sweet Girl got a great job in her chosen field and continued her studies at Embry Riddle. Enough warmer-than-average days meant that Bragger exceeded her January cycling goal of 125 miles.

February - Bragger held her breath as snowflakes fell, afraid that two scheduled holidays in the dreary month of February would be turned into weather make-up days. The snow melted upon contact, though, and school did not have to be closed due to weather. Bragger took a comp day and traveled to Florida for a dual purpose: to see Sweet Girl (most important reason) and to see the Gym Dogs compete against the University of Florida. I am not about to jinx my favorite team by predicting the outcome. Unfortunately, this weekend trip would mean that Bragger would miss one of the first organized cycling events of the year, but as the weather turned drizzly and miserable that weekend, it was a good miss after all. Bragger's lofty goal of 175 cycling miles in February appeared to be in jeopardy, but with the addition of a 29th day in February, she made it...barely.

March - The regular season ended for college gymnastics, and the finish at the SEC championships just outside Atlanta at the end of March was one of the closest in recent memory. Bragger and Hubby attended a baseball game between UGA and Kennesaw State, where they got to watch the godson play college baseball when he started as catcher. Bragger, Katydid, and Rozmo rode in the Tour de Pike bicycle ride on St. Patrick's Day, and the t-shirts weren't even green. Buttheads.

April - Bragger convinced Katydid and Frogger Blogger to accompany her on her birthday to (Auburn or N.C. State or Illinois) for the NCAA Gymnastics Regional Championships. Utah and Washington were also possible locations, but even the most devoted (obsessed?) fan has her limitations. Bragger and co-workers walked in the March for Babies on April 13th. Bragger and Katydid attempted to attend both the Spring Tune-Up bicycle ride AND the NCAA Gymnastics Championships in the same weekend, riding furiously each morning for three days and then racing the 60 miles (by car) to attend the competition. It occurred to them only later than riding their bicycles TO the arena would have accomplished both goals. The NCAA championships resulted in pleasant surprises and at least one NCAA champion for UGA.

May - Bragger counted the hours and minutes down to May 25th, on which day she retired entirely tear-free from her teaching job. She graciously attended BOTH high school graduations, knowing it was the last year she would feel obligated to do that. She and Katydid participated in the second Tour d'Oconee bicycle ride, and Bragger once again resisted the temptation to jump off the bridge in High Shoals just because it would take her back to her 17th birthday. Bragger and Hubby celebrated 15 years of marriage at the end of the month, and Hubby was disappointed they couldn't take a celebratory trip to the casino because it was too close to the beginning of BRAG.

June - Bragger and Katydid rode in BRAG again, traveling from Chattanooga (I thought it was the Bicycle Ride Across GEORGIA?) to Clayton. Only they didn't go all the way to the end, because when the ride came through Bragger's town on Thursday, she and Katydid jumped ship. Actually, they ended the ride early so they could travel to the Nash Bash, the family reunion, held again this year in South Carolina. Bragger barely escaped being arrested for trespassing when she was found sleeping on the porch of the marsh house she so nearly bought for herself last summer. She was inconsolable when she learned the cottage had been purchased by someone who intended to live there on a full-time basis and would NOT put it in the rental pool. Bragger went to see Sweet Girl at the end of the month to celebrate Sweet Girl's birthday, but the trip was marred by a nasty jelly fish sting Bragger suffered when she fell asleep and rolled off a float.

July - Rozmo, Hubby, and Bragger took the RV all the way to Wisconsin for a bicycle ride that started 30 miles from where Bragger's favorite cousin lives. It was a wonderful week of visiting with family, riding through beautiful countryside, and having a full-time sag driver on hand. Hubby finally admitted he should have been doing this years ago, which statement Bragger managed to capture on her iPhone.

August - Bragger and Hubby made a couple of mid-week trips in the RV just because they could. Bragger rode her bike to school just to visit, until her former co-workers asked her please to take her ear-to-ear grin somewhere else, thank you very much. Bragger did NOT miss her job, but she did miss her co-workers. And some of the students. A few. Two. Maybe one.

September - Football season began much better than last year's 0-2 start, and Bragger and Hubby managed to procure an RV spot in the same lot as last year. The attendant at the gate still couldn't remember their last name, but she was very sweet about it. Gus became accustomed to being left in the RV and finally mastered using the remote control to change the channel to Animal Planet while his owners went to the ballgames. Christmas commercials began airing on television.

October - Katydid and Bragger attended BikeFest again this year, held again on the banks of the Chattahoochee River in Columbus, Georgia. Bragger rode the century ride again and still doesn't know why. The UGA football team made it two in a row over one of their fiercest rivals. (Oh yes I DID.)

November - Some random Republican won the presidential election on November 6th. Bragger rode her bicycle a bunch and there were many football games. Bragger was already obsessively following the posted videos of the Gym Dogs, whose season didn't start for another two months, and even attended practice sessions on at least two occasions. Hubby considered professional help but decided it was both a lost cause and too expensive.

December - Bragger and Hubby took their annual Christmas vacation, this time to someplace tropical. Bragger insisted on taking a bike ride, where she hit a pothole and scraped up her elbow and one knee. Nothing else was hurt, except her pride, and Hubby didn't even mention it. More than thirty thousand times.

Happy 2013!

Christmas Letters.......

2011-12-26T19:38:00.001-05:00

I got a very annoying Christmas letter last week.

Don't get me wrong - I'm not opposed to Christmas letters IN PRINCIPLE. Except for the fact that if we are really and truly close friends, I probably don't need a Christmas letter to know what you've been up to for the last year.

But when Hubby told me whose name was on the return address label for this particular Christmas card/letter, I thought he was joking.

It was from a former co-worker, someone I first met through cycling and then came to teach at our school. That evolved into an awkward situation as it became patently clear that she hated almost everything about our school, in particular the students. She finally left at Spring Break, for which we were extremely grateful and never mind the hassle of finding a replacement with about 6 weeks left in the school year, and I she became very cool toward me. I couldn't figure out if she resented me because she left a job she hated or if she thought I should have been a better "friend."

Whatever.

We still see each other frequently on cycling events, and I make a point to speak to her and her husband. I steer away from school topics, except to bring her up to speed on people we both know, and I try not to let my eyes glaze over when she talks about how wonderfully well her consulting business is going. Still, she acts like it pains her to speak to me, and she has this tacky, judgmental way of looking down her very pointy nose at everyone. You feel like you can't have a conversation with her without feeling like you're being assessed.

Anyway.

Why the Christmas letter out of the blue, when we've had very little contact (other than politeness, and sometimes strained at that) for the last three and a half years? I would take the cynical position that she only wanted to brag on their exploits, but there weren't really that many exciting events in her letter.

I got a Christmas letter a few years ago from a different co-worker, someone with whom I taught in her first couple of years as a teacher and who later had Sweet Girl in her class.When she married and started having children, they got very involved with their church. She left the teaching profession to stay home with her three boys, and we kind of drifted apart. I run into her mom occasionally and get updates on the family, and I occasionally think I should give her a call.

I did enjoy reading her Christmas letter, because I've never known her children, and it was interesting reading up on what they've been up to and how they've grown. Only one part of her letter disturbed me, and ...

HEATHEN ALERT - YOU'RE GOING TO THINK I'M A HEATHEN -- AGAIN!!!

it was in reference to their youngest son. Apparently one of their significant events from that year was that the youngest son had confessed his sins and been saved.

He was 5. Really, how many sins can a 5-year-old HAVE? And could he even begin to understand the concept of sin, confessing said sin, and being saved? Forgive me, but that part of the letter made me shake my head.

I've decided I'm going to write my own Christmas letter. In tomorrow night's post, I'm going to write a letter detailing the Bragger household's activities for 2012. Call it the Christmas letter from the future.

Merry Christmas.....

2011-12-25T20:12:00.002-05:00

Thank all of you who left such sweet comments on yesterday's post. I was a little embarrassed to be so down in the dumps on Christmas Eve, but I'm thankful to have readers who don't judge. You guys are the best!

We opened gifts with Sweet Girl via webcam this morning (my first time ever to use Skype), and then a nice meal with Hubby's family. True to form, we were the last ones to arrive at his mother's house, which is about 200 yards from our driveway.

Although the weather didn't cooperate (cold and wet) enough for us to go for a walk, we had a nice afternoon just relaxing. I thought I would nap, but I wound up just crocheting and playing on the iPad. We wrapped up the evening by watching Shrek, and who can be gloomy after that?

I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas however you spent it.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled sarcasm...

Merry Christmas Eve......

2011-12-24T19:01:00.000-05:00

Merry Christmas Eve to all of you out there in blog land.

I'm fighting off a bit of the blues tonight, but determined not to be gloomy. It doesn't help that Hubby has turned the t.v. to Lonesome Dove, and Gus McCrae has just died AGAIN. I wish he wouldn't do that every time we watch it.

It seems that many Christmas Eves in my adult life have had sadness attached to them. Most of that sadness stems from the disaster that was my second marriage. The SH had his own ideas of how to celebrate Christmas Eve, and they involved drinking heavily and not coming home. He had the misguided impression that other people liked his company on this special holidays.

I was talking to my mother today about Christmases past. She was a single mother for most of my life, trying to make ends meet on her own and still provide Christmas for all five of us. My father's court-ordered child support was $6 per week per child, and he didn't believe in giving her one penny beyond that. Yet I don't remember ever being sad or disappointed on Christmas as a child. Mom always managed to scrape enough together to surprise us with toys and clothes that I know now she couldn't afford. I remember one Christmas in particular when I got a dangerous combination: roller skates and new jeans. It never occurred to ME that I should save the new pants for wearing when school started back. I fell down while trying to master the new skates on the asphalt of our trailer park, and I tore a huge hole in the new jeans. My mother must have been crushed, and there was the threat of a butt-beating if not the actuality. I couldn't blame her; I deserved it richly.

The two Christmases when Sweet Girl was in the Persian Gulf were tough, of course. Now she has a home of her own, and while I miss her painfully at Christmas, I respect her decision not to come home, especially since she was just here two weeks ago.

Well this isn't a very merry posting, so I'll stop for now. Hubby and I will spend part of tomorrow with his family, and maybe the weather will be nice enough tomorrow afternoon for a long walk. That can only help my spirits.

Merry Christmas to everyone.

Favorite Things Friday - Crocheted Scarf....

2011-12-23T20:24:00.001-05:00

I've been wrestling with this concept of "favorite." Does the word imply permanence? Longevity at least? I mean, my favorite color is yellow and has been since I was about 14 or 15 years old. I can remember the book I was reading (the heroine wore a luminous yellow ballgown, and I was hooked), and it was almost a conscious decision, "My favorite color is going to be yellow."

Favorites can change, though.....can't they? That very idea got me in sort of trouble with my credit card not too long ago. My credit card company changed my account number and canceled my old one, so I was trying to deactivate the canceled one from my online sign-in. Then I got to the secret question. "Who is your favorite athlete?"

Wait...what?

When did you ask me that? Because the answer to that secret question is highly dependent upon which SEASON we were in. Heck, what YEAR did you ask it?

If you asked it during football season, the answer might have been Matthew Stafford. Unless it was that first year he was at Detroit, when he spent the whole year on the injured reserve list, and was nothing much to write home about. It may have been Aaron Murray, although until this year he didn't impress me enough to warrant a "favorite" label.

If it was gymnastics season, it might have been Courtney Kupets. Or Kat Ding, if it wasn't right after one of the five times IN A ROW that she fell off the balance beam. (But she more than made up for it on the uneven bars.)

If it was baseball season, it might have been Brian McCann. Or Jeff Francoeur (if it was more than a couple of years ago).

Or I might have thought more in a historical sense and chosen Hershel Walker.

Whoever was my favorite whenever I answered that question, I failed at guessing three times in a row and the credit card company locked my online account.

Buttheads. What stupid kind of question is "Who is your favorite athlete?"

I realize that so far I haven't even touched on the subject of tonight's blog post.

My favorite thing tonight is a crochet pattern, and it became my favorite...yesterday.

That's Hubby serving as my model.

I wish I had taken the time to take better pictures while I still had decent daylight. Since this picture was taken I have added fringe on either end of the scarf.

It's also a darker blue than the photo indicates.

I don't think I've ever had a pattern that came together so effortlessly and took shape so beautifully. (I may break my arm off patting myself on the back.) It looks like it has a border, but it doesn't - that was just how it came together. I love the cable-like design. I'm just in love with this scarf, if it's okay in a not-very-creepy way to be in love with an inanimate object.

Here is a close-up of the pattern, but it's still not a very good view.

My very, very, very favorite thing about this crochet pattern, though, is the fact that...

...I made it up.

I've never had much success at creating my own patterns. To be honest, I didn't COMPLETELY make this one up. I started a scarf for which I had PAID TO DOWNLOAD the instructions, only to learn that I'm not the intermediate crocheter I thought I was.

I could understand SOME of the instructions. I can ch with the best of them, I understand sc, and I know hdc. I could even figure out ch2lp (chain 2 loop, although I thought it was chain 21 p's). But then I got to bpdc (see stitches - YO, insert hook from front to back to front again around post of st indicated and pull up a lp, [yo and draw through 2 lps on hook] 2 times).

Huh? Okay, let me try that...

Then I got to a dbl-CHSPC, which was a paragraph long in explanation and had embedded WITHIN it a fptr, and I gave up.

In anger, I just kept doing the two stitches I understood, got to the end of the row and turned, repeated the two stitches in the same pattern ...

And by golly, it worked. It might not look like the "professional" one on the bottom left of the picture here, but it's pretty. And functional. And required almost no curse words.

That's enough right there to make it my favorite. Hubby even asked me to make one for him. That's high praise coming from him. And he wasn't even kissing up. I don't think...

Update on Baby Luke.....

2011-12-22T20:11:00.000-05:00

I haven't updated my readers (all four of you - thank you for your loyalty!) lately about Baby Luke, mainly out of respect for his parents and not wanting to violate their privacy.

As many of you know, Luke is the son of one of my co-workers, born prematurely on October 23rd. His due date wasn't until January 4th. He weighed 1 pound 15 ounces and was able to breathe on his own from the very beginning.

Luke progressed very well and went home almost two weeks ago, much earlier than anticipated. His dad came back to work and reported on Luke's status every day. Luke gained weight steadily and was weighing in at almost five pounds when school dismissed for Christmas Break.

We got word on Monday of this week that Luke was back in the hospital and had been transferred to Scottish Rite in Atlanta. He has an infection of some sort and while he is responding well to antibiotics, doctors are having trouble finding the source of the infection. Cancer has been ruled out, much to everyone's relief, but in the meantime Luke has developed an upper respiratory infection on top of what he was already battling. In addition, doctors have known for about a week that he has a hernia that will require surgery in the next few months.

Luke was moved out of ICU this afternoon and into a regular room, but he will remain hospitalized at least through the weekend. Fortunately he won't remember that he spent his very first Christmas in such a sucky place. I mean being in the hospital in general, not the specific one where he is being treated. If I had a sick baby I could wish for no better place for him or her to be than Scottish Rite.

Please keep Luke and his mama and daddy in your thoughts. I'm sure the parents and grandparents are exhausted and frustrated with the uncertainty. This is probably not how they envisioned spending Christmas this year, or any year.

Suddenly my problems aren't so bad.

My Last Christmas Break Ever - Day Three...

2011-12-21T20:13:00.000-05:00

Some wonderful things that happened today:

I woke up at 5:00 and was afraid I wouldn't go back to sleep, and the next time I looked at the clock it was 7:00.
The newspaper was on time.
Sweet Girl's package arrived safely and right on time.
I wrapped some gifts and gift-bagged others.
Another 45 minutes on the elliptical. I'm going to see how many days in a row I can exercise. And walking to the refrigerator doesn't count. I'm currently on a roll of three days in a row.
The neighbor worked on his car without musical (?) accompaniment.
I bumped into the Warrior Princess at Wally World.
Hubby and I ran errands together and didn't forget nearly as many items at the grocery store as we usually do.
My gymnastics season tickets arrived. What a relief! Our seats are the same again this year, so we will strategically position ourselves to see who has to sit next to the know-it-all on the left. She's a nice lady, but if I cheer for a less-than-perfect routine, she points out the deductions that I clearly missed.
Temperatures were in the upper 60's. Which sort of made up for the fact that it rained off and on and on and on and on for most of the day, ruining an otherwise ideal day for cycling.
I finished a crochet project and am very pleased with it. Details later.
I took a nap.
I bought yarn for my next crochet project and supplies to make more cake pops and crock pot candy.

Sometimes There ARE People I Want to Punch in the Throat.....

2011-12-20T20:17:00.004-05:00

I hope the author of the blog I referenced yesterday hasn't registered her title as a trademark, because I'm going to use it today. Maybe other days too, but definitely today.

The people I want to punch in the throat today are our new next-door neighbors. And/or their visitors.

Perhaps I shouldn't use the word "neighbor" so loosely. Doesn't the word itself carry connotations of pleasantness, as in "being neighborly," referring to a state of being useful, friendly, congenial, or at least tolerable?

There are certainly positive things about where we live. Hubby has lived in this house since the subdivision was built in 1973. Our neighbors directly across the street have also lived here that long. A couple of the houses have changed hands a couple of times; the house that is built on the same floor plan as ours and sits catty-cornered to ours has had the same folks in it since before I moved in, so at least 15 years. We live on a dead-end street (apparently the cul de sac concept didn't come around until after 1973) off another dead-end street, so it's fairly quiet. Our little street only has six houses on it, with us smack in the middle on the right-hand side.

Two of the houses have become rental properties, and we've been mostly lucky with the one that is right next to ours. There was that one year when the tenants were evicted right before Christmas. Even the Christmas tree was out in the yard, decorations still on it and everything. Then there was the freaky guy Ken, who bragged to Hubby one day that he was on his 48th beer. And he came over during a family gathering at the pool one time, bringing his girlfriend-of-the-week and his cooler with him.

There was a sweet couple from New York, a first year teacher and her boyfriend, who mostly walked around the yard talking on his cell phone. They managed to buy a place of their own right after the economy tanked. The most recent tenant was a lady who works for the school system and her two children.

The owner of the house is a VERY nice man. I don't think he ever lived in the house himself. He bought it to rent it out for the income. Hubby knows him, and I've exchanged greetings with him, but I'm not sure I would know him if I saw him on the street. That has very little to do with this blog post.

The newest next-door neighbors -- oops, there I go again -- I mean, the newest next-door people who live next door have only lived here a couple of weeks. They spend most of their time outside working on their cars, but not in a junkyard kind of way. Yet.

My complaint about them, though, the thing that makes me want to punch them in the throat, and actually drove me outside in the rain to stand on my porch and glare at them, is the fact that they accompany their mechanical endeavors with very, very, very loud music.

I'm not condemning these people just because they listen to the kind of music I hope won't be my punishment in hell. At least that's not entirely the reason I'm condemning them. It's the volume.

I'm sure these people (and others with the same tendencies) would say it's their right to listen to whatever music they want to, and to listen to it as loudly as they want to. I would say to them that their rights end where mine begin. I also have a right to sit in my home on a rainy Tuesday afternoon and read, crochet, nap, play video games, watch gymnastics replays (it's research, people, research), or twiddle my thumbs WITHOUT MY WINDOWS VIBRATING. Yes, the windows in our house were vibrating in tempo with the horrible noise emanating from the speakers of the car at the house next door. Sounds kind of like Dr. Seuss, but he never had to punch anyone in the throat.

I realize the rational thing to do would be to calmly walk next door and request that these rude people turn the music down. It's my belief, however, that anyone inconsiderate enough to play music that loud in the first place wouldn't be open to requests to change their behavior. Besides, they look mean.

We could also resort to calling the po-po about the music (and I once stooped that low at about 2:00 AM one morning, but that was several tenants ago and I don't think Hubby liked it when I did that), but that has the potential to snowball and cause all sorts of additional problems. Besides, it seems a little extreme to call the cops for music playing loudly at 4:30 in the afternoon. If it happens at night and interrupts Hubby's sleep, he will probably beat me to the phone.

Maybe I should take an entirely different course of action. I could bake some Christmas treats and take them over there. It would certainly be better on my blood pressure.

Or I could just go get on the elliptical in the basement every time they turn on the music. That could have multiple benefits!

But I'd rather just punch them in the throat.

My Last Christmas Break Ever - Day One.....

2011-12-19T20:07:00.001-05:00

It's kind of depressing to think this is my last Christmas break as a teacher. In fact, it's so depressing that I'm considering putting off retirement for a few years.

Not.

Whenever I have an extended break from school, I alternate between doing absolutely NOTHING of value (and feeling kind of guilty about that) and trying to cram as many useful activities into a single day as I can (and feeling kind of exhausted from that). Not much middle ground.

I would have put today in the former category until I started thinking about writing this blog post. I spent most of the day waiting for the big brown truck to arrive with the Warrior Princess' Christmas gift, and it didn't come until about 3:30. But if I had dared leave the house, that bad boy would have driven up at 10:15. I could have used the time I was "trapped" at home to do some -- oh, I don't know -- HOME projects. But I didn't.

It wasn't a total waste, though. I shipped Sweet Girl's package to her and was assured it would get there on Wednesday, much earlier than I was afraid it would. I bought a couple of gifts for my godchildren, some sweetener I forgot to get at the grocery store, and some antacid tablets for Hubby. I prepared my fantasy gymnastics team line-up for week one (and my team is NOT heavy with UGA gymnasts, believe it or not), and I paid our car insurance. I did two loads of laundry, cooked an almost-actual meal for dinner, and loaded the dishwasher.

The best part of the whole day, though, was taking a walk with Hubby (and Gus) in the park. We walked for about an hour, and it was glorious being outside in the fresh air. It was about 60 degrees and would have been PERFECT for a bike ride, thank you very much Mr. Big Brown Truck. Rainy weather is supposed to be moving in tomorrow, so I may have missed one of the last good riding opportunities for this year. We'll be out of town for four days right after Christmas, but I hope to squeeze in at least a couple more rides before the end of the year.

I don't usually plug other people's blogs here (especially people I don't even know remotely, as in this case), but I have to tell you the story behind this one. Warrior Princess called me last night and said, "I'm afraid I may have misrepresented you to my co-workers." (And I got teary-eyed that she has other co-workers now and I'm not one of them, but I'm working through those issues.) It seems she was telling her co-workers about my blog and my writing style and my sense of (?) humor, and one of them came in saying she thought she had found my blog all by herself.

She thought it was called "People I Want to Punch in the Throat."

I haven't read many of the entries, but part of me is sad that it ISN'T my blog. Part of me is grateful, though, because if I've learned one thing about my writing, it's that I can't maintain a writing style consistently. I can't be funny all the time, I can't be sentimental (hardly ever, in fact), and I can't even be grumpy all the time. I can do sarcasm, but I'm always afraid it comes across as more pissed off than I really am, so I try to use it modestly.

No, really. I do.

I have found much to love in this blog so far. I do find some of the language offensive, so I hope Warrior Princess corrected her co-worker about its authorship. Still, some of the ideas could have come straight out of my head. I just wish I could express them as well.

I Think I'll Call it "Pineapple Fluff".......

2011-12-18T22:07:00.000-05:00

I have a recipe for a sort-of dessert that I make for Hubby every now and then. Oh, and me too, but I modified the original recipe to suit Hubby's diabeticness.

I'm surprised I ever made it the first time, because the name turned me off immediately. I found the recipe in the newspaper, and it was called "Dump Salad."

Could they have come up with a LESS appetizing name?

It suits me for several reasons. #1 - It's sweet. #2 - It's simple. Okay, two reasons.

Here are the very simple steps and ingredients:

1 large can crushed pineapple (you can use other fruits, but our favorite is pineapple)
1 box Jell-O (I use sugar-free lemon)
1 container (16 oz? maybe?) cottage cheese
1 tub Cool Whip (I use Lite, Free, or Sugar Free, and I'm pretty sure they're all exactly the same)

Drain the fruit, pour the Jell-O mix on top and stir. Mix in the cottage cheese, then fold in the Cool Whip. Allow to set in the refrigerator.

I have also added walnuts (excellent) and I think I've tried coconut in this recipe. Then it can be called "Tropical Fluff."

I took this dish to a family reunion once, and my brother LOVED it. He asked what was in it, and when I got to the cottage cheese part, he started gagging. Then I discovered that Hubby doesn't particularly care for cottage cheese either, mainly due to the texture. (I think it's merely the IDEA of cottage cheese, but whatever.) So I started putting the cottage cheese in the food processor before I mix it in with the fruit and Jell-O. It processes up beautifully and looks like a gorgeous cake frosting. But I wouldn't recommend putting it on a cake.

It's a wonderful dessert for holiday gatherings, because it makes a large bowl, but it isn't a heavy dessert. Unless you eat the entire large bowl all by yourself.

Not that I've ever done that.

Another Sisters' Saturday.....

2011-12-17T21:03:00.000-05:00

After a long hiatus due to Frogger Blogger being in graduate school, the three sisters got together again today. If my exhaustion is any indication, a good time was had by all.

The main purpose of the get-together was to attend the UGA Gym Dogs' Sneak Peek, the first glimpse of what the upcoming gymnastics season will look like for the home team.

Oh.

My.

I'm trying (mostly unsuccessfully) not to get my hopes up to unrealistic levels, but holy cow the team looked great today. A girl who is a junior and has NEVER competed but hasn't had any trouble collecting her scholarship check every month finally showed up and looked fabulous. No significant injuries and tremendous depth on every apparatus. There were two brand-new freshmen, one who showed up three days ago and one whose very first practice EVER as a Gym Dog was ... TODAY. No wonder she looked petrified when she mounted that balance beam.

After the Sneak Peek we went to the UGA bookstore, had greasy chili dogs at the Varsity, did some Christmas shopping, and laughed a lot.

I can't wait to do it all again. Especially the laughing part.

Favorite Things Friday - Hot Toddy.....

2011-12-16T20:17:00.001-05:00

It's more than a little ironic that I chose this topic for tonight's blog post. A hot toddy is a wonderful drink when the weather is cold and blustery and there's snow on the ground and you have a roaring fire going and you just want to curl up in front of the television and watch old movies or gymnastics meets. Oh yeah, or football.

When I got in my car to leave school today (thank you merciful gods and goddesses in heaven), it was 74 degrees.

I love living in the South.

Anyway, back to my favorite hot toddy...

Hot apple cider. With a shot of ... wait for it ... butterscotch Schnapps in it.

We had the packets of instant hot apple cider at a school function, and I read a serving suggestion on the back of the box. They must have known I was a high school teacher when they suggested putting alcohol in my apple cider.

While I drink the apple cider at school frequently, I have NOT stooped to using the butterscotch Schnapps. At school. Yet.

I'm not even going to apologize for the fact that it's INSTANT apple cider. The brand that we buy also comes in a sugar free version, which I'm pretty sure makes up for all the calories in the Schnapps. Pretty sure. Damn sure.

If you want to be really festive or formal or hoity-toity, you can put whipped cream on top and drizzle it with caramel syrup. That's what I did last year during the siege that was the blizzard of 2011. The REAL one, not this one.

Seriously, this hot drink has an uncanny ability to improve my mood mightily, even if it wasn't bad to begin with. And there's not THAT much Schnapps in it.

Who even knew they made butterscotch Schnapps?

P.S. Sorry no picture. It's too damn hot for hot apple cider, and I certainly didn't want to waste it.

Keeping My Day Job....

2011-12-15T21:33:00.000-05:00

Subtitle: Bakerella Need Not Fear That I Will Supplant Her as the Cake Pop Queen

Is that the correct usage of the word "supplant"?

Someone came up with the BRILLIANT (and I mean it this time, not being sarcastic. This time) idea that we should order box lunches at school today instead of a potluck lunch. I suggested that we combine it with a "goodie swap" and bring in cookies and/or candy to share at school.

In the meantime, our wonderfully sweet cafeteria ladies, who knew nothing of our lunch and/or goodie plans, said they would be providing "treats" for both faculties today.

You really didn't need all that information for this blog post, but since I started it and my "delete" key suddenly won't work (that's my story and I'm sticking to it), I'm gonna give you the rest of it too.

The "treats" these ladies provided weren't just treats. It was a complete spread: pimiento cheese sandwiches, chicken salad sandwiches, crackers and cheese, Chex mix, cookies, peanuts, M&Ms, chips and dip, and I'm sure I've left something out.

Holy cow.

It didn't take me long to realize I didn't need the box lunch I'd ordered. But since it was a chicken wrap and fruit cup (I'm trying, I really am), I decided it would keep until tomorrow, and that eliminates the need to prepare a lunch for tomorrow. Score.

Back to those treats.

Because I had such success with my first cake pops, I thought I would make some more of those. I'd already done Christmas trees, so this time I thought I would just make little round cake pops in red and green and decorate them.

The red ones went well, except for the fact that the green sugar I put on them made them look kind of like dirt. But I hope they will taste good. I also bought the multicolored sprinkles.

Trivia question: Do you know how far multicolored sprinkles will bounce if you drop a few -- all right, a million -- of them on a tile floor?

Answer: Ten trillion. I think a few of them are still bouncing somewhere in Bulgaria.

Is Bulgaria still a country? I can't keep up with geography anymore, ever since the fall of Communism combined with the law requiring that African countries change their names with every full moon.

Because I tend to be rather OCD about such things, I thought I would do exactly half of the cake pops in red candy coating, and the other half in green. After I had dipped and sprinkled exactly half of the cake pops in the refrigerator, I dumped the red candy coating.

(Note to self: If you buy some cheap candy molds, you can put that candy coating to good use instead of throwing it away every time. There now.)

I melted the green candy coating, and that's when things started to go downhill. I couldn't get the green coating thin enough, and it would drag the cake pops off their little sticks. Bakerella's book suggested using a little shortening to thin the candy coating when it isn't thin enough, but I didn't have any. I didn't anticipate having that problem, since I had been so successful with the green coating when I made the little Christmas trees.

I managed to dip a few green ones, then I dumped several in the trash, threw out the green candy coating, and chalked it up to a learning experience. It was 11:00 PM by that time, and I also had crock pot candy cooling all over the kitchen.

(Note to self: If you write a blog post about being stress-free during the holiday season, you shouldn't then find it necessary to CREATE stress where there was none. There now.)

I didn't cry in my candy coating (actually, that might have helped), and I didn't let it get to me. I still had a fair number (albeit not an even number, a fact I'm trying to claw from my memory) of cake pops, and I will share them at school tomorrow.

I'm not giving up on the cake pops, either. I may not become an expert, and mine may never be as cute and creative as the ones in the book, but I will get better.

In the meantime, I think it's best to keep my day job.

For 91 more school days.

What a Difference a Day Makes.....

2011-12-14T22:06:00.001-05:00

So HERE'S the cheery post I wanted to write yesterday.

I started out the day still congested and feeling yucky, but sometime in mid-afternoon, someone somewhere flipped a switch and I felt much better.

It could have been the realization that in a moment of bravery I had Hubby take me and my bike to school today, then he went to play golf on a course far, far away, and I knew the only way for me to get home was to ride my bike.

A year ago today we woke up to a low temperature of 14 degrees. IN GEORGIA!

Today the high was 70. IN DECEMBER!

That sounded a lot warmer than it turned out to be, at least on a bicycle. I debated about wearing my long-sleeved base layer under my riding jersey, and in the end decided it couldn't hurt. Excellent decision, as it cooled off quite quickly once the sun dipped below the tree line. I wasn't ever really COLD, but I was glad I had those sleeves. Hubby wore shorts to play golf, and he said it was fine. He's a lot tougher than I am.

It was a very nice ride home, especially considering it had been 17 days since I had been on my bike. I met the same school bus I often meet on that ride, and today for the second time I met it right at the entrance to a subdivision. It stopped to let the little kiddies off, and I stopped, just as I would if I were in a car. The drivers always look at me like I'm a little nuts, but I make every effort to follow the rules of the road even when I'm on my bike. (To be honest, I don't know if they're looking at me like I'm nuts because I stop for a school bus to unload, or if they look at me like I'm nuts because I'm on a bike in the first place.) Once when I was riding with a former co-worker, we also stopped for a school bus that had its red lights flashing. The driver leaned out the window and said in amazement, "I ain't never had nobody on a BIKE stop before." If I can just convince the occasional driver that all cyclists are not inconsiderate jerks, I will have done my duty.

Today's ride fulfilled 10% of this month's riding goal. I'd better get busy.

Sick and Tired of Being Sick and Tired....

2011-12-13T20:36:00.000-05:00

I really, really, really wanted to write a cheery post tonight. It seems that lately all I've done is whine and complain.

But this one is kicking my butt.

It seems that the cold I had briefly a couple of weeks ago and I thought was gone just went into hiatus and then returned with a vengeance.

How is it that my head can be so stuffed up one minute that I cannot breathe, and the next minute my nose is dripping? (Sorry for the graphic description.)

And why is it that I describe it as "just" a cold?

I want it to have a more important-sounding name than that. I want it to end in -itis. Or -monia. No, no, no, I don't mean I want to BE that sick. I just want it to SOUND like I am. What a baby.

When I came in this afternoon, I told Hubby I was going to bed and wake me in an hour so I could cook dinner. Smart man that he is, he said it wouldn't be necessary to cook. He could fix himself a sandwich. Have I mentioned lately that I love that man? He did, however, allow me to grill him a sandwich when I came back downstairs an hour and a half later. So there go a few of his points. He should have been grilling ME a sandwich, but that's too close to cooking for him.

The nap did some good, though, and I was able to bake a cake so I can make cake pops tomorrow night. I really, really, really want to feel better tomorrow morning, because tomorrow afternoon is supposed to be the best weather for cycling we've had this month. And we DON'T have a bazillion interviews tomorrow afternoon.

Off to take some drugs and cross my fingers...

Dear Powers-that-Be.........

2011-12-12T20:09:00.004-05:00

I'm tired of being cold.

It isn't even winter yet, and my classroom is FREEZING. Students come into my room from the hall, and almost to a person, they say, "Man, it's cold in here!" Or some similar rendition.

At which point I glare at them and offer up some similar (but much more professional) version of "No shit!"

I am an adult, I watch the weather forecast religiously every morning and every night, and I dress appropriately. When the weather person said this morning that our high temperature wouldn't get out of the 40's today (please stop hating me, all you people who live in much colder places -- this is GEORGIA we're talking about), I planned ahead. I ditched the outfit I had planned to wear today in favor of a much warmer one. I wore a cowl-neck sweater WITH a tank top underneath, black jeans (so what if it isn't Friday, they're probably going to fire me when I build a bonfire in the middle of my classroom anyway), socks and equestrian-looking boots. (Side note: I couldn't even WEAR those boots for the last two winters because my lower legs were too fat. Go me!) At the last minute I even threw on the crocheted scarf with the pockets on the ends that the Warrior Princess made for me a couple of years ago.

Thank you, Warrior Princess, you SAVED MY LIFE today.

I froze all day. I'm pretty sure the high temperature in my classroom was lower than the high temperature outside. Pretty sure.

There's this little box on the wall right above my desk with a sliding switch. It says "cooler" at the bottom and "warmer" at the top.

You aren't fooling me, Powers-that-Be. I know you just put a fake box on the wall because that freakin' thing DOES. NOT. WORK. I've got it all the way up to "warmer," and it just sits there and chuckles at me.

And while we're on the subject, you bunch of Communists, thanks for that new rule that prohibits teachers from having radios, microwaves, refrigerators, candles, and SPACE HEATERS in their rooms. I can understand the candles, since a veteran teacher almost burned down the newly built wing on one of the high schools, and I realize you are trying everything you can to cut costs, up to and including furloughing teachers for six days a year, but COME ON! I'm FREEZING here.

I'm pretty sure God did not put me in the South because he wanted me to freeze to death.

If you want me to retire early, just say so. You don't have to ice me.

Ice Queen aka Bragger

Feeling Kinda Guilty.....

2011-12-11T20:29:00.001-05:00

I'm feeling a little guilty this week that I'm not stressed out and knee-deep in a flurry of activity related to the holidays.

When I taught in the traditional school, this would typically be the week of final exams. Monday through Wednesday would be spent presenting projects, reviewing the semester's material, cramming in last-minute poems we never covered adequately during the course of the semester, and preparing for final exams. Thursday and Friday would in essence be half-days, with exams in the morning and students typically released at lunch. Only the buses wouldn't run, so the kids who didn't drive would be stuck at school with the teachers who were frantically trying to get tests graded, averages calculated, and that damn holiday greeting on the classroom door that got old about a week after Thanksgiving Break removed so it wouldn't be there upon the return to school in January. Oh, and guess which kids don't drive? The very young ones and the thugs. Just the type you want to be stuck at school with on the last two days before Christmas Break.

Now, though, I don't have those worries. While this week IS technically the end of our semester, our students don't take final exams, and if they haven't quite completed a course (or two or four), they just roll over into next semester and finish it in January. Or next August, depending upon the student. If a student is diligent enough to have already completed a course (or four or five, in the cases of REALLY diligent students), he or she has already started on those courses also. That's what I love about the flexibility of our school. With a seat-time waiver, students move on when they finish a course's material, not according to some calendar. (Doesn't that just make sense?) Seniors who finish their courses early don't have to attend school anymore. They just sit home eating Cheetohs and watching bad television and music videos and wait for graduation day to roll around in May.

I don't have the stress of Christmas shopping. At least not to the extent that some people do. Hubby and I don't buy each other gifts anymore, so I don't have to worry about what to get him. And I don't have to worry that he will spend too much on something for me. I've already bought Sweet Girl's presents and sent them home with her, so I don't even have to worry about shipping them in time to get to her house before Christmas. Except for the bajillion little things I keep seeing that I think, "Oh, Sweet Girl would really like that." She was thoughtful (?) enough to bring home her Christmas stocking this weekend, so I will have to ship that to her. (Wouldn't it be a scream if I just sent it to her as empty as when she brought it? Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.) Hubby insists that his daughter and granddaughter just want money, and he doesn't even really believe in buying them a trinket in which to wrap the money. He would just hand over the cash right out of his pocket on Christmas morning if I left it up to him. He bought a new air conditioner for his mother back in August or September, and he told her that was her Christmas present. She would be totally fine with it, but we usually buy her a box of candy. One year she commented she would like for SOMEONE to make her a pretty pink sweater, so I stayed up for several nights leading up to Christmas crocheting like mad to finish a sweater, and I've never seen it again. (Forgive me for repeating myself. I know I've told that story before, but I can't remember when, and one or two of you might not have been around back then.) When she took it out of the box on Christmas, she said, "What is this?" Hubby snapped, "It's about ten thousand hours of work is what it is." I love that man.

I don't have much stress associated with Christmas baking, either. Unless I just choose to, which I may do this year. At school Thursday we are going to order box lunches (much less stressful than the traditional potluck lunch, and if our principal had a ~~clue~~ heart she would offer to pay for everyone's lunch, but that is unlikely) and have a goodie swap. I am planning to make some more cake pops (but not in Christmas tree shapes this time), and I may make some crock pot candy. But it's not like I have to spend hours and hours and day upon day in the kitchen baking cookies and treats and cakes and pies and banana bread for endless work/school parties. I can do just as much or as little as I want to. That makes me want to do more. Does that even make sense?

Another thing I don't have to stress about is the issue of family get-togethers. My family doesn't get together for Christmas anymore, so my sisters and I will make the trek to Mom's house next Saturday and have breakfast. Then we will sneak off and REALLY have a good time with just the three of us. Ho ho ho. Hubby's family gathers at his mother's house on Christmas for gift exchanges (children only, and we don't participate) and lunch. In the past his mother has done most of the cooking, but we have slowly taken over that chore and divide it up among us. Even though my mother-in-law lives at the end of our street, we are usually the last ones to arrive and the first ones to go home. I must have been suffering from a slight stroke or something last night, because I suggested to Hubby that if his mother wasn't going to cook, it makes more sense to have the gathering at OUR house, where there is more room for people and parking. He said quickly, "Hell no. At least if we have it at her house we can go home." Good point.

With all this stress-less existence, I shouldn't be dreading the upcoming week so.... dreadfully. I just hope these five days won't drag their little feet.

By the Numbers......

2011-12-10T19:41:00.001-05:00

5 - School days left until Christmas Break.

95 - School days left until retirement.

30,000 - Number of people Katydid and I estimate were in attendance at today's memorial service for Larry Munson, the legendary voice of the Georgia Bulldogs for 42 years.

15 - Seconds of fame I may or may not have acquired by being interviewed by an Atlanta television station before the start of the memorial service.

0 - Number of those seconds I got to see on the news, despite having set my DVR, due to the fact that a football game ran over into the newscast and the DVR wasn't smart enough to keep recording.

99 - Probability out of 100 that I sounded like an idiot on television.

0 - Number of dollars I spent at the UGA bookstore today. Sure I left my purse in the car, but it wasn't THAT far, and I could have easily gone to get it.

84 - Number of dollars on the price tag of a sweater for which I was seriously lusting. At least I couldn't make an impulse purchase.

45 - Minutes I spent on the elliptical today. A Saturday!!

0 - Number of cake pops I ate when I took them to school on Friday.

1,000,000,000 - Brownie points I would like to put in the bank by combining the above two items.

4 - Thanksgiving pounds I still need to lose.

15 - Days until Christmas Day.

1 - Probability out of 100 that I will lose those pounds before Christmas.

17 - Days until Hubby and I go to Atlantic City for our Christmas trip.

0 - Amount of post-Christmas debt Hubby and I will have.

13 - Level I've reached on Angry Birds.

27 - Days until the college gymnastics season begins. Go Gym Dogs! Go Utes!

Favorite Things Friday - Lonesome Dove....

2011-12-09T21:28:00.001-05:00

Don't laugh. My favorite television series OF ALL TIME is Lonesome Dove.

I'm not a huge television watcher. Perhaps I've always found it difficult to sit still that long. Unless it's a football game. Or basketball game. Or gymnastics meet that I not only attended in person but I've watched a trillion times already. But whatever.

In a previous wifetime, my ex started talking about some western series that was coming on. I wasn't interested for a variety of reasons. #1 - I hated anything he liked. #2 - I wasn't fond of westerns.

But we only had the one television, so after I f-i-n-a-l-l-y got the kitchen cleaned up, I sat down to read or something mindless while the television droned on in the background. That was the first night.

The second night, I FLEW through post-supper clean-up so I could watch every last second of the masterpiece.

Well, masterpiece might be a little strong. But with a superb cast, wonderful writing, breath-taking scenery, and a captivating story line, it might not be far off the mark. Even the musical score was wonderful.

I had more than a slight crush on Gus, played by Robert Duvall. It is no accident that our dog's name is Gus. that way if I call out his name in my sleep, I won't get in nearly as much trouble.

Tommy Lee Jones played Captain Woodrow Call. If we ever get another dog, his name will be Woodrow, and we'll call him Woody.

Unless he happens to be black, in which case his name will be Deets.

We also had a dog named Newt, who was also a character in the series, played by Ricky Schroeder. He may have just been Rick by then, I'm not sure. He was the son of one of the town... uh... "sporting" ladies, and Gus claimed that Captain Call was Newt's father.

There was a very brief spin-off series with a grown-up Newt who became a bad-ass, and Hubby loved that series. It wasn't played by Ricky/Rick Schroeder, though, so I wasn't as enthralled. I like stories that keep the same actors in the sequels.

Jon Voigt replaced Tommy Lee Jones in Return to Lonesome Dove, and a beautiful young actress I had never seen before played in the sequel. It was only years later that I realized that character had been played by what had to be a very, very, very young Reese Witherspoon.

Gus didn't have to be replaced in the sequel, since he died in the first one. I watch Lonesome Dove every time it comes on (that Hubby will allow me to), and every single time I cry when Gus dies. Hubby says, "He's gonna die EVERY TIME you watch it."

Robert Urich played the part of Jake Spoon, a lovable, lazy gambler and womanizer who is too easily led down the wrong path and must pay the ultimate price.

I don't usually read a book AFTER I've seen the movie, but I did read this one, and there were parts of the movie that were word-for-word from the text of the book. I like that in a movie. The only obvious editing was because it was hard to compress an 833-page book, even into an 8-hour mini-series. I don't usually read book reviews, either, and one that I read AFTER I had finished the book summed up my feelings exactly. It said something along the lines of, "I've never been so angry with an author as I was with Larry McMurtry for stopping after a mere 833 pages." Or however many pages the book had.

Hubby and I are convinced McMurtry had someone else write Lonesome Dove for him, because we've ~~read~~ tried to read other books by the same author, and they're downright painful. If he DIDN'T have someone else write it, he used up all his creativity on that one book and couldn't replicate the quality. Ever again.

I don't have this mini-series on DVD, but it's one I would watch again and again if I did.

Weekend Plans.....

2011-12-08T19:37:00.001-05:00

I have a busy weekend ahead, but busy in a good way.

Sweet Girl is coming home again. I know, right? She doesn't come home for a year or more at a time, and here she is just two weeks later. She wants to go to the memorial service for Larry Munson, the voice of the Georgia Bulldogs for over 40 years. That will also include the requisite visit to the Varsity, home of the frosted orange and the world's greasiest chili dogs and french fries. We may also make a trip to the UGA Bookstore (always a dangerous proposition) and run by Michael's for more cake pop supplies.

Tomorrow night (Sweet Girl doesn't know this yet - surprise!) we are going to a high school basketball game. One of my students is one of the leading scorers, and I promised her I would come to a game this season. She made a buzzer-beating 3-point shot this past Tuesday night. These plans are completely contingent upon my NOT throttling her in class tomorrow, if her behavior on Tuesday is any indication of a typical game day. I finally emailed her coach and asked if she could just STAY HOME the next time she has a game.

Sunday afternoon I plan to attend a baby shower for sweet Baby Luke, who now weighs in at a whopping four pounds and will likely come home long before his original due date of January 4th. Having him home before Christmas would probably be the best gift his sweet parents could ever wish for.

Too cold for cycling anyway. I'm going into withdrawal because it's been 11 days since I've been on my bike.

Love Him (or Her) Like a Dog.....

2011-12-07T20:18:00.001-05:00

Not that I should be giving advice about marriage to ANYONE, but I have boiled the secret to a happy marriage down to one simple concept:

Don't get married unless you love that person like a dog.

A dog is never in a bad mood. You can leave him for hours and hours, and when you get home he is thrilled to see you again. He doesn't pout that you left him, he just wants to be scratched behind the ears and allowed to lick your hand.

You can go so far as to leave a dog at a kennel or a mother-in-law's house for as long as a week, and even though you might feel guilty while you're gone, he will not punish you with the silent treatment or beg for souvenirs when you get home. He will love you just as much as if you just returned from the grocery store.

A dog never rolls his eyes or makes faces behind your back. He might not get your jokes, but he does listen, and he never scoffs or insults you. He will fetch the ball just as many times as you will throw it, and if you hide it from him because you're tired, he will forgive you.

A dog will curl up beside you and doze happily, but he will also jump up and follow you to the bathroom or the kitchen or the basement or outside every single time, and he won't act all pissed off because you woke him up.

A dog doesn't mind if you gain a few pounds, and he won't notice if you lose a few. He loves you just the way you are. He appreciates your cooking no matter WHAT it is, and he will do a little dance for something special like a piece of cheese.

A dog wants nothing more than to hear your voice speaking in sweet tones.

Until a person can feel like a dog toward another human being, he or she shouldn't get married. Until you can be just as happy to see the other person at the end of a long day as you are after a long separation, don't even bother tying the knot.

I'm only sorry it took me so long (and so many tries) to find someone who still makes my tail wag even after 15 years.

And it isn't even our anniversary.

Things I've Learned This Week....And It's Only Tuesday....

2011-12-06T20:23:00.001-05:00

If you forget to stop at your usual store for the newspaper on Monday because the ~~communists~~ ~~cheapskates~~ people who own the newspaper won't deliver Monday's paper until Tuesday, it will take you three more stores to find one that actually carries that paper.
Even in a small town (or perhaps especially in a small town), you can't leave school at 3:00 and get all the way across town for a doctor's appointment at 3:20.
If you pay attention to the appointment sheet the receptionist gives you at your LAST appointment, you might notice that the 4:00 appointment you requested is actually at 3:20, and you might notice it earlier than the day before said appointment when you have a jillion conflicts.
Rushing out of school and stressing because you are afraid you will be late for a 3:20 doctor's appointment almost guarantees that the doctor will come into the exam room at 4:20. And stay for four minutes. And forget to give you the very prescription for a nasal spray she recommended. And tell you to come back in six months. And you won't call back, because the ~~communists~~ ~~cheapskates~~ doctor's office charges $10 for the phone call and $5 for the additional prescription.
If you don't look at it very often, you won't obsess about the fact that some of your Christmas tree lights blink and some don't.
If the only thing you can have before they draw blood at the doctor's office is black coffee, it is possible to suck it up and drink it black.
A boob job for a seventeen-year-old costs $5700.
If you mention to your Hubby that you plan to drive to Alabama for a gymnastics meet in January, he will decide that is close enough to Mississippi to warrant a trip to the casino and offer to drop you off. He will then proceed to invite as many of his buddies as he thinks will fit into your SUV.
Going back to Zumba class after an absence of more than a month isn't painful at all, and you will remember most of the dances. Eventually.
Having chili for dinner right before going back to Zumba class will add an entirely new dimension of difficulty to some of the required moves.
If you transfer money from savings to Hubby's checking account to cover the cost of car tag renewals because all $642 worth of them come due on Hubby's January 1st birthday, you will later receive an email informing you that the insurance on said vehicles, also $600, is also due on January 1st. Merry Christmas.
Deciding to wear off-white slacks to school is best done BEFORE you put on those cute panties with the flower print. Unless you just LIKE getting dressed twice.
Wearing off-white slacks to school is fine, unless you decide you will try to drink a cup of coffee while you walk down the hall. It has been proven that you can't walk and drink. Remember that cup of wine you tried to drink while walking from the tailgating lot to the stadium? Yeah, that.
Having Angry Birds on your iPhone is not a good idea.

Insurance....Yuck....

2011-12-05T19:59:00.001-05:00

I hate dealing with insurance. Car insurance, house insurance, medical insurance, life insurance, all of it just makes my head spin. I don't understand a lot of it, and because I don't understand it, I feel stupid, and if there's anything I hate in this world, it's feeling stupid.

I don't know if it's the same everywhere, but in our county the open enrollment for insurance is a big old pain in the butt. And it changes every year. A couple of times they sent a representative out to meet with each and every employee just to make sure we clicked all the clicks and checked all the checks and boxed all the boxes. This year we had to go it alone, but it seemed a fairly simple process. I did mine early (like always), but there was a wave of panic as the deadline approached. Then the system crashed, the deadline was extended, and I ignored most of those emails. Then we got an email saying that even if we thought we had finished the enrollment we might not have done everything required, and I got paranoid. I emailed our secretary and asked her how we would know, and she said they would send a follow-up email and she would let us know.

I never heard anything, and I confirmed (at least to myself) that I had printed two different confirmations. But I still worried (am still worrying) that I might have made a mistake and both Hubby and I would be without insurance for the coming year. Maybe it's because in the past Hubby has provided his own insurance, but now that he's retired it's all on me.

Hubby and I have to fill out an online health survey in order to get some extra money put in our flexible spending account. And since I just had to pay one-half of an almost-thousand-dollar crown (in my mouth, not on my head where it belongs), I need all the flexible spending dollars I can get. The online health survey was a challenge all by itself! First I couldn't figure out how to set up a profile for Hubby, so I called Customer Service rather than get frustrated. Naturally as soon as I had a real live human being on the phone, it worked beautifully and I felt stupid. Again.

I had to start taking medicine to lower my cholesterol, and it's expensive. But I got a handy-dandy little $4 copay card from my doctor, which lowered my cost to only $61.76!!!! I'm not exactly sure where the $4 comes in. I called the pharmaceutical company, and they said there is a cap of $50 on that card, which they paid, otherwise I would have had to pay $111.76. What a bargain! It makes no senses to me whatsoever.

Don't even get me started on deductibles, copay amounts, allowed expenses, and all that jazz.

I need another college degree just to figure out the insurance needs in my household. I'd rather do our income taxes every single month than deal with insurance.

Maybe I should have chosen a less stress-inducing blog topic. I have to go to the doctor tomorrow.

My First Cake Pops.....

2011-12-04T21:53:00.001-05:00

The Book Man comes to our school every couple of months ago and leaves a selection of stuff for us to peruse. We can fill out an order form, leave a check in the big brown envelope, and then several days later, just like magic, some student who happens to be in the office (yeah, you want THOSE folks running errands for you) will bring you a stack of whatever you ordered. Odds are you may have forgotten in the span of those few days just what the heck you ordered. Or why. Odds are even greater that you may purchase crap that doesn't even fall into the category of "books." But whatever.

Last time the Book Man came, I ordered this jewel.

I got carried away looking at the pictures and didn't even notice that the author is Bakerella, someone whose work has been featured on the Pioneer Woman's blog from time to time. If I remember correctly, Bakerella went to Pioneer Woman's lodge and made some cake pops. But I may have made that up. I'm kinda tired.

When I saw the book I wasn't even sure I was going to keep it for myself. I thought it might make a good gift, or something I could put in the store at next year's Nash Bash. The fact that I'm not a kitchen diva has been well documented here. With research and everything.

But the cake pops sounded so easy, and they looked so irresistibly cute, that I decided I would attempt some on my own. And it wasn't enough just to make them; I volunteered to bring some to school as rewards for students who ~~haven't pissed us off as much as the rest of them have~~ have shown success in coursework, standardized testing, or attendance.

There were several designs with a Christmas theme, but I decided on the Christmas trees. I really liked the Santa hats, but they required TWICE the dipping and two different colors, and I didn't want to push my luck. (You can find those on Bakerella's site. They're adorable.)

They weren't a total disaster, but you may notice (if you can see past the glare of the reflection from the treat bags) that I only decorated a few of them. It was tedious work, and it was taking me about 5 minutes to decorate each tree, not counting the time I spent looking on the floor for the #$*!#$ microscopic sprinkles I was trying to use as decorations. At 9:30 I said "screw it" and left the majority of the trees naked.

I apologize that the pictures aren't better. I didn't take the time to photograph each step of the process, and I only had my point-and-shoot handy.

It wasn't very difficult to make them, but it is an all-day project. (Note to self: Beginning this little adventure at 4:00 PM probably isn't the best plan.) One thing that bothers me about making cake pops is the waste. You have to melt enough candy coating to dip the entire cake pop at one time, so that means there is a lot left. I guess I could have saved it and used it again, but I didn't think I would need any dark green candy coating any time soon.

I may make some cake pops again, but I think I'll stick with something round and simple. Smiley faces. Basketballs.

Adolescent Behavior is Contagious.....

2011-12-03T19:59:00.001-05:00

Subtitle: I Should Be Ashamed of Myself

I think I mentioned a while back that Hubby bought a new car. I told him he didn't need something with 140 mph on the speedometer, and he said he wouldn't go any faster than 130.

Every time we go out to eat now, we go in his car. But he has usually been playing golf (read: drinking beer) all day, so he allows me to drive.

And he always says, "Punch it." "Floor it." Or something equally juvenile.

I tell him I'm not going to drive fast because I'm a wimp and afraid of getting a speeding ticket. (I've only had one in my life, when I was 18 and driving to Daytona Beach and I cried for the whole three days I was there over a $25 speeding ticket.)

Last night we went to the one town I don't like to go between Thanksgiving and Christmas because all the shoppers come out and bring three cars each and clog up the streets. Even after the students go home for Christmas, traffic is still a nightmare during the holiday season.

Let me go on record here and say I am NOT one of those people who exhibits road rage. I may get irritated, I may sometimes allow other drivers to get somewhat under my skin, but I am not an aggressive driver. I don't use the horn (much) or the middle finger (hardly ever), and if I think another driver is annoyed with ME, I don't make eye contact.

One thing that DOES get on my nerves, though, is when a driver insists on driving in the left lane. The major road between the college town and our town is not a controlled-access highway, so sometimes it's necessary for people to turn left, but there is no sense in people getting in that left lane and clogging up the lane for everyone else.

When I FINALLY got around a car that was cruising along at just under the speed limit in the left lane, Hubby said, "Smoke him."

(That's another of his favorites.)

And I did.

I punched it, and that Challenger took off like somebody had just counted down to a space shuttle liftoff. I was then in the right lane and gaining (rapidly) on another car, so I pulled out to pass it too. Then I realized it was a Mustang.

And I channeled my inner Hubby and smoked him too.

I am a wimp, though, so as soon as I saw his taillights in the mirror, I eased off the accelerator. Hubby said, "What did you get up, 100?"

I glanced at the speedometer and saw it sweep past 100 mph ON THE WAY BACK DOWN.

"Yeah," I replied.

Since I had my laser eye surgery only on one eye, I have these special glasses I'm supposed to wear when I drive at night. I can't find them.

What an idiot.

Favorite Things Friday - Favorite Snack.....

2011-12-02T12:15:00.001-05:00

For this particular Favorite Things Friday, I am VERY glad that Sweet Girl is an adult. Otherwise the child protection folks might get their hands on this and come take her away from me.

I'm going to post something in this blog that is my favorite snack, and I don't think even my SISTERS know about it. Hubby certainly doesn't. It's one of those things I only eat in secret, because it's too bizarre for anyone in my closest circles to know.

Except for you, my dear reader(s). I feel confident enough in our relationship that I can reveal something to you that I tell no one else.

One of my favorite snacks in the world is a.....

....Catalina sandwich.

As in Catalina salad dressing. On bread. Nothing else. Except maybe that really thick BBQ bread (the kind you tear apart, not the already-sliced kind).

Preferably the entirely-bad-for-you white bread, the fresher the better.

It's actually better if you only eat one piece (at a time) and put the dressing on it and FOLD IT OVER (that's a story from my brother's childhood that I'll share with you sometime, but it loses a lot in print).

I don't know how I happened upon this particular snack. We must have been REALLY low on groceries.

I'm sure I wouldn't try this with other salad dressings, even though when we were children it wasn't uncommon for us to have mayonnaise sandwiches for snack. Except we didn't use mayo, we used Miracle Whip. I guess I made the "salad dressing" jump and decided it didn't just have to be THAT kind of salad dressing.

Can't picture it with thousand island dressing. Or ranch. Especially not Italian... ewwwwwwww!

But a Catalina sandwich is the ultimate comfort food. I haven't had one in a while (until I prepared one specifically for this blog), since we only have whole-grain bread in our house, and the Catalina these days is fat-free.

It just isn't the same.

Plain old white bread would be SO much better, but whatever.

Just pour the Catalina right on. Be careful, or it will ooze out the side. And you may just be wearing a crisp white blouse. I'm just sayin'.

Slap the two pieces of bread together. Best accompanied by a cold glass of milk. Whole would be best, but 1% will suffice.

Please don't judge me for the weirdness of my snack choices. I also have some other favorites that aren't quite so weird, like graham crackers with peanut butter and microwave popcorn.

I feel better having confessed to all of you. Happy weekend!

Shopaholic.....

2011-12-01T20:01:00.001-05:00

I promise you I am NOT one of those high-maintenance women. I typically dress for comfort (but try to look nice at the same time) rather than paying much attention to fashion. If I'm not careful, I will continue wearing the same articles of clothing for years, completely oblivious of the fact that they have long gone out of fashion. (Aside: Did you know that the correct expression is "oblivious of...." and not "oblivious to....."? I learned that in my doctoral program. Money well spent, I should think.)

I had a co-worker several years ago who was known for making some of the tackiest comments known to man. I don't THINK she was deliberately trying to be mean; she just didn't think before the words came out of her mouth. Example: One morning we were both getting out of our cars at the same time, and she said to me, "Oh, I used to have a dress like that. Every now and then I start to wear it, and then I tell myself, 'Susan, that dress is way out of style now.'"

I had three or four dresses in the same style, and I went home and put them ALL in the goodwill pile. And I liked them! But I could never wear them again without thinking of her thoughtless remark.

And that's another thing. When I find something I like, it's not unheard of for me to have two (or more) of the same item in different colors. I may not even buy them all at the same time. When I was shopping for clothes at the beginning of the school year, I didn't intentionally buy three satin-looking tunic-length blouses that are only slightly different in the design. One is purple, one is red, and one is brown. Yesterday there was a wonderful sale at the ONLY department store our little bitty town has, so I stopped in after school with my additional 25% off elite shopping pass. Yes, I realize I was suckered. I found some adorable boots (can't figure out why I've been on a boot kick lately, but there it is...sorry, pun not intended) and couldn't decide whether to buy them in brown or black. I stood there for the longest time, considering my wardrobe and what would look good with the boots. I have some new brown slacks, so I eventually bought them in brown, and I wore them to school today.

After school I stopped in the same store and bought the same boots. In black. And a pink sweater with sequins on it. I am neither a pink girl nor a sequin girl, but there you have it. Perhaps I am trying to transform myself?

The good news is that once this binge is over, I am unlikely to buy any more clothes until the spring. Good thing...my credit card thinks a nuclear meltdown has occurred.

Back in the (Saddle?) Again.....

2011-11-30T20:05:00.001-05:00

During last school year, I got pretty good about getting on the elliptical every. single. morning. That was in addition to any cycling I might do in the afternoon, one or two nights at Zumba class, walking in the park with Hubby some afternoons, and cycling on the weekend.

I started out this year doing the same, but the routine of going to take care of Hubby's mama every morning began to get to me. I stopped getting on the elliptical every morning, even though I technically had the time to do so. I just chose to spend that time crocheting, reading, or playing on the computer. I justified it as "me" time that I deserved because I now had to make several trips down the road every day to take care of my mother-in-law.

Don't get me wrong; I didn't resent having to help her. I wasn't pouting and that's why I got out of my morning exercise routine. It was more an issue of using that time in the morning to decompress, trying to keep my sanity.

Mother-in-law has been back to taking care of herself for three weeks now, and it took me until this week to get back on the elliptical. It is SO HARD to get back into those routines once I get out of them. I tried to talk myself out of it this morning, but I finally made myself get dressed and go down to the ~~dungeon~~ basement to exercise.

And I feel much better throughout the day. My mood is better, and I haven't wanted to throttle nearly as many students this week since I've been getting my engine jump-started every morning.

I have to get back on the bandwagon as far as food goes too. I told myself I wouldn't use the Thanksgiving holiday as an excuse to overeat/eat the wrong things, but myself didn't listen very well.

And maybe it will be warm enough this weekend to do some cycling. I would like to shed these last 15 pounds (and the 5 friends they allowed to stay over after the holiday weekend) before the end of the school year.

Calendar Comments.....

2011-11-29T19:49:00.001-05:00

Our new superintendent sent out a survey asking for teacher, staff, parent, and student input regarding the calendar for next year. I participated in the survey even though I won't BE there next year, and I didn't put smart-ass answers typical of someone who won't be there next year. (I know, right?)

Today she shared the results with us, sent out a tentative calendar (which means nothing, since they changed it last year after many parents had already made plans), and included the comments participants could include at the end of the survey.

I know, I know, I already make fun of the people of my community way too much. (But I haven't tortured you with Police Blotter Blogger Fodder lately, now have I?) I shouldn't make fun of the citizens of my adopted county, the place where I am destined to spend the remainder of my days. Unless someone slips into our house in the middle of the night and performs a lobotomy on Hubby. Then all bets are off.

But some of these comments are hilarious. Some of them are just painful. I didn't make a single one of them up, though.

We appreciate you. (I could sort of understand this one if it weren't an ANONYMOUS survey. Kissing up is never a bad approach.)
Use common sense. (Did they understand these are EDUCATORS making these calendar decisions?)
The weather in November to have a week off is not condusive to having children home. To cold to play outside and to expensive to go anywhere being gas prices are raised as well as hotel and airfare prices. (I understand the logic, which is actually pretty good, but if one has CHILDREN in the school district, shouldn't one be able to spell words like "too"? I'll give them "conducive.")
Ask the city to widen HAYMOND MORRIS Rd. and make a side walk. (If the only chance you get to express your opinion is on a calendar survey, then by golly you should complain about the roads there. And putting the name in all caps might just make up for misspelling the name of the road. And "sidewalk" is one word.)
WHEN PLANNING PROM AND OTHER EVENTS.MAKE SURE THIS DOES FALL INTO MOTHERS AND OTHER HOLLIDAYS(SAME WEEKEND) (Because clearly the superintendent is in charge of things like prom. And the fact that it sometimes falls into mothers.)
I feel like the PDC should offer online classes for parapro's and substitutes that want to pursue a career in the teaching field.They should offer classes online each semester to earn credits to be a teacher like the online parapro classes.Especially if you have a degree. (Excellent suggestion, particularly on a survey about next year's calendar. We will have an early online course dedicated solely to the use of the apostrophe.)
Thanks for working to complete this difficult task! Good Luck! (A kiss-up and a cynic all rolled into one.)
something really needs to be done about the bus situation. (Maybe they didn't show up at all on the first day of school, and thus they need to be addressed in a calendar survey.)
Will there be furlough days? If so, how many and more importantly, why? (A legitimate calendar concern, but COME ON! No one likes furlough days, but isn't the "why" fairly apparent? It's only been all over the news since Herbert Hoover was President.)
Fall break should be on Halloween. (It's important that we consider ALL the major holidays and schedule our breaks around them, particularly the one-day ones that may occur in the middle of the week.)
Thank you for asking parent input! Wow! Children of mine (legal or biological) have been students at all levels in the ______ County Schools since 2001. It has been my uniform observation that children see the most success academically and relationally when they do not leave the school environment for long periods of time. Universally (and 2 of mine have IEPs) children have an easier time transitioning, with content retention, and acclimation if the school breaks are neither too long nor too close together. For the success of all our children, I hope you will structure all future school calendars to have evenly spaced breaks of moderate length. Thank you. (Wow! Please try to include each and every research/education ten-dollar word you've ever heard in your comments. This person not only signed his or her name, but included a phone number.)
Good Luck! I know that no matter what is decided on- you will never please the Majority! Praying for you, the Faculty and the final decision and acceptance of them. (Another cynic who believes both faculty members and the majority are important enough to have their names capitalized.)
In my opinion, school starts in August. In order to finish on time before Winter break, I would dismiss Fall Break in October because the children will be- (or) are getting a week of in November for Thanksgiving. This is just a thought. (And in my opinion, Christmas falls on a Sunday this year.)
The superintendent messed everything up Thanks So Much. (I promise you, I did NOT write this comment. I would have punctuated correctly and realized that some words do not need to be capitalized.)
We do not need to end 1st semester before winter break. We need to eliminate the month of August. . .too expensive. (Why hasn't someone already thought of this? Just REMOVE A MONTH FROM THE CALENDAR AND THE ECONOMY WILL BE FIXED!)
happy school year (Clearly this one requires a MAGIC calendar.)
Post the calendar early and do not amend later. This caused problems for my family since we planned vacation around fall break, but the calendar was changed resulting inu children missing 3 days of school. (From a parent for whom school is so important that the vacation plans were left intact.)
upcoming school events like PTO and write what school it's for (Huh?)
Really and truly consider what the teachers are saying. I feel we are given a "pretend" voice to say we had a say, but ultimately the board makes their own decision disregarding what we say. (Commenting about commenting?)
You will always have student/teacher personalities that from time to time don't match. I think some sort of student "suggestion box", cards, or a way that if there are a number students in the same class that are having problems with the way the teacher communicates and the majority of the students are continually lost, the students should, as a group be able to convey this to the school leadership (I can't believe some teachers are not communicating the calendar clearly to their students.)
Have a scheduled day off on Friday, before the GA/FL game....so many teachers and staff take that day off. It could save the county money, as now subs would be needed. (Finally, a comment that actually makes SENSE! Ludicrous as it may sound, the school district where UGA is located actually does have a scheduled holiday on that Friday. They gave up trying to find substitutes for all the sudden-onset illnesses.)
Please consider my options :) (Oh goodie. A kiss-up with a SMILEY FACE.)
Friday before the Georgia-Florida football game might be a teacher workday to save the county lots of money on subs. (I like your way of thinking, doofus, but are you aware that taking a day off on a workday is a huge no-no?)
I really would like Christmas break to be sooner and come back to school sooner. I really prefer having more time to plan for Christmas than being off for New Year's day. (Clearly not a football fan. Or a drinker.)
Consider scheduling fall break to include Easter (at the beginning of the break) (I hear you, bro! That's one heck of a long fall break, and I'm all for it!)
you should do whats best for our students. Teachers and staff shouldn't be considered (Two words: Bite. Me.)
Instead of paying us twice in December, We should just paid the end like we do all year. (WHERE has this person BEEN? We've NEVER been paid twice in December. And if everyone else has received a double check, I WANT MINE!)
GET RID OF SUMMER VACATION! WE ARE NOT FARMERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (See above comment regarding two words. Times a hundred.)

There were three or four more comments suggesting that any Fall Break be combined with the Georgia-Florida football game. I would vote for any of those people for President.

Black Friday Shopping.....

2011-11-28T19:45:00.001-05:00

I have resisted the concept of shopping on Black Friday for a number of years. The phrase I use for it most often is that I "avoid it like the plague." The day after Thanksgiving is for lying around in my yoga pants, decorating the Christmas tree, watching football, and eating leftovers. It is NOT for going out with three million of my closest friends and fighting for bargains like the world is going to end tomorrow.

My daughter, however, has other ideas. Since she made the trek home this year for Thanksgiving, I conceded and agreed to go shopping on Black Friday. I tried (without success) to talk her into going at midnight on Thanksgiving, since it would TECHNICALLY be Friday, but she wasn't buying it. No, her idea of a good time is getting up at the crack of dawn and fighting the crowds.

The things we do for our children.

Even when they're grown. And we should be over our parenting guilt.

I didn't set an alarm clock on Thanksgiving night, because I didn't think it was fair to ask Hubby to be a part of this craziness. I woke up all by myself at 4:44 AM, didn't hear Sweet Girl stirring, and wondered if I just went back to sleep if I could pretend that I overslept.

Being the good mother I am (**cough cough**), though, I got up (albeit reluctantly) and got dressed. I did NOT put on make-up, and although I DID brush my hair, I'm sure it didn't look like it. I wore the favorite blue plaid zip-up shirt I featured in a Favorite Things Friday post about a week ago, and off we went. (Note to self: Should you ever lose your mind again and participate in Black Friday shopping, there are these things called hats. They hide bedhead hair very well.)

We went to a mall about 23 miles from our house. It's the only mall Sweet Girl thinks exists. To be fair, the only other one near us is also about the same distance away, and it doesn't have nearly the stores.

There was a line outside Barnes & Noble because it didn't open until 6:00 AM. I seriously questioned the sanity of those poor folks standing around in the cold waiting for a store to open. The mall, however, was already open and doing a brisk business. We had a brief breakfast from the chicken place with cows as their mascots, and we were off.

To make a long story even longer, it wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be. There were no pushing crowds, no incredibly long lines (except in one store that Sweet Girl loves, but she didn't find anything there she wanted anyway), and we actually got some good deals. I did find myself succumbing to the sales tactics, even saying to Sweet Girl one time, "Oh, I didn't spend $40, so I won't get the free tote bag. I'll be right back."

Folks, if there's anything I DON'T need in this world, it's another tote bag. Even a free one. But I spent enough to get it (and another one at a different store). Further proof that educated doesn't necessarily mean smart.

I was pleased with my purchases, though, and I think Sweet Girl was happy with what she got. I bought more pairs of panties in that one shopping trip than I usually buy in a year, but they'll last me for a year. I bought another pair of jeans and a belt. I don't think I've EVER had a decent leather belt in my whole life. I bought a couple of bras from that place that guys are either embarrassed to go in or make excuses to go in. I bought a page-a-day calendar for Hubby's birthday (Jan. 1st, how appropriate) that has become a tradition. I lusted after ~~several~~ many pairs of boots, but I resisted the temptation. I bought two new pairs of dress slacks for school, along with a crisp white blouse with a ruffle down the front. Damn, I'm glad ruffles are coming back.

Now if only afros would come back in style. With my hair, I can DO an afro.

All in all, it was a surprisingly pleasant experience. Sweet Girl started fading before I did, and she was ready to come home. It felt weird, leaving the mall at around 9:00 AM. The crowds were gone, and there wasn't even a line at Barnes & Noble when we checked out.

I may even consider going again next year. But don't tell Sweet Girl. She will hold me to it.

Back to the Real World....

2011-11-27T19:38:00.001-05:00

The worst thing about having an entire week off from school (other than the fact that two of those were furlough days, which will be deducted from my paycheck, thank you very much), of course, is the return to reality after all those luxurious mornings of not having to hear an alarm clock. We aren't terribly late sleepers; I was amazed to look at the clock upon waking this morning and seeing it was 7:30. That's darn near lunch time! Still, it's nice to sleep as long as we want without a screaming alarm jolting us out of our weird dreams at 5:00 AM.

And on top of having to go back to school, the weather is supposed to take a turn for the worse this week. I know I shouldn't complain, since it IS late November and we've had temperatures in the 70's the past couple of days. I've tried to take advantage of the nice temperatures and ride my bike, since I don't know how many more days of decent riding weather we will have. I went out for a brief 14-mile ride after the UGA-Tech game yesterday (How 'Bout Them Dawgs!), and today I rode just under 25. Those may be my last rides in November, and last year we had an AWFUL December for bicycle riding.

I'm not sure exactly where I was going with this blog post. I'm not really whining about having to go back to school, since as my mother said so pointedly on Thanksgiving when I was lamenting our furlough days, I should be thankful just to have a job. And I'm trying not to spend a lot of time and energy whining about the impending cold weather, since there's not a whole lot I can do about it. Other than move to Jamaica, which Hubby for some strange reason won't consider. I'm sure they have golf there.

Crazy Dream #15......

2011-11-26T20:40:00.001-05:00

Last night I dreamed about things school-related. I must be missing those ~~reprobates~~ darling students of mine. (Particularly the one who is a huge Georgia Tech fan - How 'Bout Them Dawgs!!!!)

In one part of my dream, I had a trouble-maker of a student whose name was Cheryl. (With apologies to my dear friend Cheryl from high school.) Only THIS Cheryl was about two and a half feet tall. So when I had to remove her from my classroom, I simply picked her up. She was cursing and screaming, and then she kicked at me and fell out of my arms. My students gasped and roared against me, thinking I had thrown her to the ground. If Cheryl had kept her mouth shut during standardized testing and not insisted on telling the rest of the students the answer to one of the questions, we might not have had such a confrontation in the first place.

In another part of my dream, but a continuation of the first part, we took our students on a field trip to a high school where I used to teach. One of the faculty members was showing me the pine board trey ceilings they had installed since I was there. What? I kept looking around for students who would still be there and remember me, and there were a few. I'm thinking they weren't on the honor roll, though, since I left that school in 2003. There was a man teaching chorus/drama at that school who had a huge mustache. I'm talking one of those handlebar mustaches, but it stuck out about three feet on either side of his head.

I didn't know taking pain reliever PM tablets right before bed would create such bizarre dreams. We'll see what tonight brings.

Favorite Things Friday - Coffee Mug.....

2011-11-25T20:17:00.001-05:00

I go through spells in which I drink out of the same coffee mug every single morning. The only thing that makes me change mugs is if I break one or (in this case) I get one as a gift that takes a new place in my affection. If one can have affection for inanimate objects. (Of course one can ... I happened to have married two of them. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha)

Sweet Girl gave me this coffee mug a couple of years ago. Or maybe last year. It wasn't yesterday, so I'm fuzzy on the details. Tinkerbell has been one of my favorite Disney characters since I was a very little girl. I have a distinct memory of having a Tinkerbell placemat that I insisted be put under my plate at dinner every evening. This memory comes from a house that burned down when I was about four years old, so we're talking about a VERY old memory. Noah and the Ark era.

I remember watching The Wonderful World of Disney on Sunday evenings, and I waited for Tinkerbell to appear at the end. That was the only part I cared about. She was beautiful even in black and white. My father used to call me "Tink" when I was little. I don't know if it stemmed from my fascination with Tinkerbell or if it was a shortened form of "stink." With my father, either one was possible.

I have a few Tinkerbell Christmas ornaments, and I used to have some Tinkerbell earrings. I lost one of them between my bedroom and the bathroom, and I never found it. Even when we ripped up the carpet to replace it, that earring was nowhere to be found. I understand there are black holes in outer space, but in my hallway?

I'm not a huge coffee drinker. At least I'm not one to drink coffee all day long. I have two cups at home in the morning, and that's it. We have a coffee pot at school, but I rarely partake there. If I want something warm to drink during the school day, I heat up some water and have sugar-free apple cider.

As you can see, though, it's kind of cheating for me to say I "only" have two cups of coffee. This is my mug compared to a regular-sized mug, which is still much larger than a regular-sized coffee cup. When I say I "only" have two cups of coffee every morning, it's probably equivalent to half a pot.

I'm not going to apologize for drinking those two gargantuan cups of coffee, though. I've given up chocolate, sugar, most alcohol, and almost anything that tastes good. I'll switch to decaf if necessary, but for now I'm going to enjoy my (almost) one last vice.

Thanksgiving.....

2011-11-24T22:07:00.001-05:00

I try to be thankful every day of the year, but today I am especially thankful for:

Sisters who love me "warts and all," as our mother would say.
A husband with whom I laugh a lot more often than I argue.
A daughter who loves to cook.
A mother who never let me get too full of myself.
A brother who would ~~kill~~ do bodily harm for me, even if I didn't find that out until I was in my forties.
A clean kitchen.
Enough leftovers for several days of football.
Football.
A job that allows me to enjoy a comfortable lifestyle.
A job.
A home where I feel safe and happy, even when I don't have enough closet space.
Good health.
Short winters and long summers.
Friends, both in the virtual world and the physical world.
A warm fire.
The internet.
Places all over the globe to experience.
A home to return to when the globe-trotting is finished.
Miracles of modern medicine, like those allowing Baby Luke to survive and thrive.
The colors of changing leaves.
Freedom.
Love.

Red Wednesday......

2011-11-23T21:13:00.001-05:00

If Friday the day after Thanksgiving is called Black Friday, then I guess if you get dragged to the freakin' MALL the day BEFORE Thanksgiving so you can pre-shop for Black Friday, it might as well be called Red Wednesday. (Sweet Girl suggested White Wednesday, but it sounded too racist.) Red works just as well, since my checking account was in danger of being that color, thus precluding any need to go Black Friday shopping in the first place, if we didn't get the heck out of the mall.

I don't have any real need to go shopping on Black Friday, since the only person I have to buy for this year is Sweet Girl, and her gifts are already bought and almost wrapped. "Almost" meaning I have the boxes and the wrapping paper and may even be able to put my hands on some tape. This way I will save the expense of shipping them to Florida. She can take them home with her, taped up in a bigger box, and open them on Christmas Day. She won't peek either; she was never a kid to sniff out her Christmas gifts. I don't think.

We only went to the mall today (supposedly) to see the Muppets movie. It won't win an Oscar, but it was entertaining. And I didn't go to sleep. I didn't even text during the movie.

The best thing about Red Wednesday/Pre-Black Friday shopping is that since it's not technically Christmas shopping, it's okay to buy things for myself.

I bought the one vital garment missing from my UGA-themed clothing to wear to the SEC Championship game, only to arrive home and get an email that I don't have the trillion points necessary to earn the privilege of buying tickets to the game. BUT I guess I can wear the newly acquired vital garment at home while we watch the game on television, saving, in Hubby's words, "AT LEAST $500" by NOT going to the game in person.

Dang it. I really wanted to go. Every time UGA has played in that game and I've attended in person..... they've won.

If Mark Richt hears that, he may send me tickets himself.

Happy Thanksgiving!

License Plate Decals.....

2011-11-22T19:10:00.001-05:00

There's no way I can write this blog post without coming across as a heathen, but I'll just have to take that chance.

In fact, I tossed around several titles that were worthy of a heathen, but my brain is on strike tonight and I couldn't come up with a good one.

About thirty years ago or so, our state adopted the practice of displaying the name of a registered car owner's county of residence on the license plate. I thought it was kind of cool at the time, for some reason. I had a friend who didn't want to display her county on her tag, but then she got stopped (her husband was a copy - irony much?) and the policeman informed her that the fine for not displaying one's county decal at the bottom of the license plate was $25. That was years ago... it may be more than that now.

Then the state came up with about a gazillion different specialty tags, and SOME of those don't have a space for a county decal. Mine, for instance, says "Share the Road" at the bottom instead of my county. That's not why I bought that specialty plate; I wanted to support cycling initiatives in my state and I ~~naively~~ believed the extra money I pay every year would go to those initiatives. If my "Share the Road" license plate had a space for the county decal, I would still buy it. It's not that big a deal to me. I don't really get why some people don't want to display the county in which they live. Wait a minute.... never mind.... some counties in Georgia are places you definitely DON'T want to be from.

Then I started noticing that instead of the county decal on some plates, the phrase "In God We Trust" appeared. That's cool, if that's what they want their tags to say. To each his own.

In fact, there was a tremendous snafu when officials had a design contest to choose the next Georgia plates. It seems some of the designs had the optional "In God We Trust" phrase on them, and others didn't, leading some of the people voting on the designs to think they were choosing whether or not to have the phrase on the license plate.

Good. Lord.

Pun intended.

As an afterthought.

And here's where I turn into a heathen. If it was so important for drivers to display the county of residence on their license plates that law enforcement would IMPOSE A FINE for failure to do so, why isn't it that important anymore? Who decided that "In God We Trust" could take the place of a county decal?

Now I've heard there is legislation pending requiring the phrase to appear on ALL Georgia license plates. Please don't test my (limited) grasp of civics by asking in what stage this legislation might be; for all I know, some state representative mentioned it in passing and it isn't even pending at all.

But...

What if I don't want my religious views (general statement though it may be) displayed on my car? Is my only other option not to have a vehicle registered in the State of Georgia? (And how long before they make me put it on my bike as well?)

I'm not here to talk about my religious views (or lack thereof), and I don't feel that strongly about religion one way or another to warrant an argument, a personal attack, or a condemnation of my moral character (or lack thereof). But I do acknowledge there are people out there who DO feel strongly enough about the matter that it will generate some genuine discomfort to have to wear such a public statement that the drivers may or may not agree with.

I realize it's also on our currency, but since I never have that long enough to take a good look at the phrase, for some reason that doesn't bother me at all.

It's not like we had this giant blank space on our license plates and someone decided it needed to be filled in, and hey, our national motto would do just fine, because there are too many folks in Alabama who would never understand "E pluribus unum." (I'm sorry...I couldn't help myself.) That space on our license plates HAD some information on it, information that someone at some point thought was vital enough that a driver who didn't display it would have to pay a penalty. But the name of one's county can be omitted if one chooses to proclaim to the world "In God We Trust." Whether or not that person believes it.

No one asked ME what a good phrase might be to wear on the backs of our cars. (We aren't one of the states that require license plates back and front. Who makes these rules, anyway?)

For me it would be a toss-up between "Only the Good Die Young" and "How 'Bout Them Dawgs."

Oh, and while I'm being a heathen, I also intended to make fun of the marquee (is that what it's called when it's a church?) in front of a church near our house. But I'm not going to tell you what it is until I have a picture of it, because A) it loses something in translation; and B) you might not believe that it's really there unless I document it.

Eerie Timing......

2011-11-21T21:06:00.001-05:00

I recorded this video at the last home UGA game of the year last Saturday, mainly for Katydid. I apologize for the less-than-optimal quality of the video. It's hard to film and watch at the same time, and I forgot a couple of times what I was attempting to do.

It's a UGA tradition, playing the "Battle Hymn of the Bulldog Nation" during the pregame activities of a home game. A lone trumpet plays the opening notes from the southwest corner of the stadium. (I think perhaps this particular soloist succumbed to nerves at the idea of playing in front of 92,746 people.) Then the videoboard shows clips from games in the distant past as well as the current season while the entire Redcoat Marching Band plays the rest of the Battle Hymn.

I recorded this because the video is narrated by the legendary voice of the Georgia Bulldogs for 42 years, Larry Munson, from 1966 until 2008 when he retired.

If you're not a Dawg fan, there isn't enough blog space in the world for me to explain the Hobnail Boot call, "Run Lindsay!" (when Munson broke his chair in his excitement), or "My God Almighty, he just ran right through two men...My God, a freshman!" There are examples all over the internet if you're curious enough to go listen. I look them up myself from time to time just to hear that gravelly voice again. I think Larry Munson was among the first radio announcers who threw the rulebook out the window when it came to remaining unbiased while calling a football game. He was Georgia Bulldog through and through, and he didn't mind letting it be known even while he was calling a game.

And yesterday that gravelly voice was silenced forever. Larry died yesterday at his home in Athens at the age of 89. The Bulldog Nation mourns his passing, but we are appreciative of what he brought to our team, our school, our city, and our state during his tenure as the voice of the Bulldogs.

If I had suspected he might not survive the week, I might have tried a little harder on my videography.

Crock Pot Candy Flop.......

2011-11-20T20:47:00.001-05:00

A while back I wrote a blog post about crock pot candy, which I've made for several years, particularly during the holidays, and I included the recipe. The recipe was included in my bank statement back when A) that bank was in existence; B) they included recipes; and C) we got statements in the mail.

It is a fool-proof recipe. Unless a fool starts fooling with it.

I should know better than to experiment in the kitchen. I consider it a miracle of epic proportions if something turns out right when I FOLLOW THE DIRECTIONS, so experimenting should be out of the question. Especially with something that turns out perfectly every time. But leave something well enough alone? Oh no... not me.

I decided this recipe, already delicious and decadent enough, needed a couple of additional ingredients. So I dumped shredded coconut into the mix (without measuring, of course, just poured it straight from the bag until it "looked right") and included an entire bag of caramels. Which I had to unwrap individually, of course. While I tried to peer around the corner to watch a football game. (I would prefer to have a television in the kitchen, but I don't have enough counter space as it is.) I thought the addition of coconut and caramel would give it an Almond Joy-ish flavor.

In the original recipe, after the candy has cooked for three hours, you stir it up and drop it by spoonfuls onto waxed paper. It hardens slightly and then you store it in an airtight container. At least, that's what you do to the three or four pieces you have left.

I was afraid the caramel would make the mixture too gooey and that it wouldn't harden. But it had almost the opposite effect. The mixture was barely stirrable (is that a word?), although it could somewhat be formed into balls. Unfortunately I also skipped the "allow to cool slightly" step, so I burned my hands experimenting with THAT and ultimately gave up.

I scooped enough "clumps" out of the mixture to fill all three of my wire racks, and then I dumped the rest into an aluminum pan, a la brownies. The clumps don't taste bad, and the caramel is definitely detectable. They just aren't very pretty, so I won't be giving this batch as gifts. I'll try to cut the ones in the pan into squares tomorrow and see how that goes. It may all go in the trash can.

I did learn something, however, and that means the time and money spent weren't completely wasted.

Any of you cooks out there have any idea as to why the addition of caramel and coconut ruined the consistency of my candy? I'm sure there's a scientific explanation, and if Pioneer Woman and I were better friends, she could tell me.

Tailgating Season Comes to an End.....

2011-11-19T20:19:00.001-05:00

Today was our last home UGA football game. There is the game next Saturday at Georgia Tech (probably won't go to that one), the SEC Championship game the following game in Atlanta (have applied for tickets to that one, but so far down on the points totem pole that it's doubtful we will get them), and then whatever bowl game UGA gets invited to play in.

It's hard to believe the home season is over, and the regular season is almost over. Didn't we just start playing? Where did the time go?

Our tailgating experience this year was a positive one. This is the first time we've had season tickets, and it's the first time we've had the RV to take to ballgames. Even for games like today's, when we didn't intend to spend the night, it was nice to have A) our own bathroom; B) a television; and C) somewhere to hang out. Even room to take a nap, if we had been so inclined.

It was only about a mile walk from our RV lot to the stadium. The only teeny tiny negative I can think of is that for the two games that ended after dark, it was a little bit spooky walking back along a poorly lit path in a ... questionable ... part of town.

Gus did beautifully as a tailgating dog. He wore his little UGA t-shirt, and he didn't bark obnoxiously. Much. He wasn't crazy about being left in the RV for the duration of a football game, but he got used to it.

I didn't expect to get sunburned on the 19th of November, but I did today. I wore a turtleneck and fleece vest along with my UGA jacket, which turned out to be totally unnecessary. It stayed under my seat the entire game.

We won today's game, but it almost felt like a loss. We were expected to win by more than four touchdowns, but the score was 19-10. I hope that means we were saving up for the two big, big games we have left, and not that our team's swagger was just all a bunch of hot air.

Enough about football for tonight. We're all pretty tuckered out.

Favorite Things Friday - A Hand-Me-Up.....

2011-11-18T11:24:00.001-05:00

This is one of my favorite pieces of clothing. (I promise all my favorite things are not going to be apparel. But some will. Obviously.)

This shirt is one of several items I call "hand-me-ups" because I inherited them from my Sweet Girl. In the case of this particular shirt, I rescued it from suffering the fate of the school's Lost and Found bin.

Sweet Girl picked this shirt out at what was then her favorite clothing store (and mine, which made it almost instantly NOT her favorite anymore) when she was in about the 7th or 8th grade. (And she graduated from high school in 2002, so that should give you an indication of how ridiculously long I hold onto things I really like.) It was one of those things she JUST HAD TO HAVE and immediately decided she hated. Unfortunately she made that decision only after leaving the shirt to die a slow, cruel death in her locker at school. For months.

She never used her locker much, so at the end of the year I had to get the assistant principal to open her locker when she couldn't remember the combination. Or couldn't be bothered, I'm not sure which it was. (I worked at the same school, so it wasn't like I was one of those freakish mothers who show up at the end of every school year to clean out their kids' lockers. Wait...)

Anyway, he opened the locker for me, and there was this shirt, languishing among the algebra worksheets and history notes. The poor shirt that she JUST HAD TO HAVE. Since it had clearly been abandoned by its previous owner, I took possession of it.

I love this shirt for so many reasons, DESPITE the fact that it isn't much to look at. It's really more of a jacket than a shirt, but it isn't confining like a jacket. I always wear it over something else, and it is one of the warmest things I have ever owned. When Hubby and I used to go pick up firewood (before we decided it was worth it to have someone just deliver it to our house), I would always wear this shirt because it was warm but also allowed freedom of movement. I also like the fact that it zips, and it has those wonderfully convenient pockets.

I'm certainly no fashionista, but it's that time of year when I gravitate toward clothes that warm my heart as well as my body.

Action....Lights....

2011-11-17T19:59:00.001-05:00

Yes, I realize that my words in the title are not in the correct order. There's a method to my madness. Whatever.

In our new building, the interior lights are motion-activated. Not just the hallways, but in the classrooms and bathrooms too. I realize they were installed as energy-saving features, and I appreciate them for that.

Sometimes, though, I find them a little disconcerting. Several times in the last few weeks I have been the first person to arrive, at least on my hall. (I know, right?) As I proceed down the hall, first the main one and then our little short one, the lights come on as I pass the sensors. But the timing is what creeps me out. The lights always come on JUST AS I've decided they aren't GOING to come on. It's that fraction of a second that I find just a little spooky. You would think I'd get used to it, the lights coming on while I'm walking (or rolling my bicycle) down the hall. But there's that one little tiny bit of hesitation every. single. morning.

The same is true of the lights in my classroom. Some mornings when I open the door and flip the light switches, the lights come on. Some mornings they don't come on until I'm walking around my desk. I haven't figured out the difference yet. I'm standing in approximately the same place every day when I turn on the lights, so I don't know why they come on immediately some days and not others.

I will have to say that the motion-activated lights can come in handy. We have carpet in the halls this year, which we haven't had before, and we could always hear someone approaching. Particularly our principal, who wears clip-cloppy heels a lot of the time. Not that we have any reason to FEAR her approaching, we could just tell when she was coming down the hall. And not that she has any reason to sneak up on us. Now, though, after a time delay of I don't know how long, the lights in the hall go off. If we are having a meeting or eating lunch and the lights come on, we know someone this way cometh. Maybe something wicked (a student) and maybe not (the principal or counselor). At least the students can't sneak past us, at least not when the lights are off.

I also like the fact that the bathroom lights are motion-activated, too, in addition to the classrooms and hallways. If the lights are off in the bathroom, we can safely assume the girls aren't huddled up in there, using their cell phones or plotting the demise of one of their classmates. Not that we wouldn't hear them anyway, because THEIR VOICES ARE SO DAMN LOUD. And I'm pretty sure not one of them is clever enough to note the location of the motion sensors and stand still long enough to make them go off.

I've decided that instead of being creeped out by the lights coming on when I walk down the hall, I'm going to put a regal twist on it. I'm going to pretend the lights are coming on like they would for royalty. Or at least someone famous.

Give me a break, it's the last brief moment of superiority I get to experience all day long, and it's over by 8:15.

A Tale of Integrity.....

2011-11-16T19:04:00.001-05:00

Subtitle: Where Did THAT Child Come From?

This is a story from many years ago, when my Sweet Girl was a mere freshman in high school.

She was in the marching band, which made me very proud and thrilled her. She had wanted to march in the band since ... well, since she had first laid eyes on a marching band.

It was the first away game, and Hubby and I chaperoned and rode the band bus. (That was our ONLY time doing that. I was afraid Hubby was going to get US thrown off the bus due to his misbehavior. Some role model.)

Around these parts, the high school band gets third quarter off from their duties, and they are free to visit the concession stand, visit with their other friends, or smoke cigarettes under the bleachers. Oh wait... that was when I was in the band. Sorry.

One form of discipline employed by the band director and section leaders was the loss of third quarter privileges. If you committed some egregious offense (uniform violation, forgetting your music, being late, etc.), your punishment was to sit in the stands during third quarter while everyone else went and milled around. Imagine if you will a lone figure (or two) wearing a band uniform and sitting in an otherwise empty section of metal bleachers. Conspicuous much?

On this first away game, I went to chat with Sweet Girl and she had tears in her eyes.

"I forgot my music," she said.

"Well, can't you look on with someone else?" I asked naively.

"That's not it," she explained, probably thinking I was slightly slow. "I lose my third quarter privileges."

I didn't think it was THAT bad, especially since I didn't particularly want her down there under the bleachers doing God knows what ... Wait....wrong generation again. Sorry.

During third quarter of the game I went to sit with Sweet Girl and make her feel better, until I was run out of the section by another adult, the band secretary. I was unaware that third quarter criminals were also not allowed to talk during third quarter, not even to their MOTHERS. Before I left, though, one of the band officers came up to Sweet Girl with a clipboard in his hand.

"Who gave you third quarter detention?" he asked.

"I forgot my music," Sweet Girl explained.

"But who told you that you had to sit out during third quarter?" he persisted, looking at the list on his clipboard, apparently not finding her name.

"No one," Sweet Girl answered. "I just knew that's what I had to do."

He looked at her like she had lost her mind, and then he walked away shaking his head. He went and told the band secretary, who told the band director, who said, "Sounds like officer material to me."

I was (and am) awestruck by her integrity. I would like to think I raised her to be like that, but I'm afraid it was nothing more than blind luck.

Sweet Girl, you rock!

One Summer by David Baldacci.......

2011-11-15T18:42:00.001-05:00

Baldacci's books are usually thrillers with plots usually related to politics. He's not one of those authors whose latest books I must, must, must read, but often I read one after Hubby has finished it.

This book was very different from Baldacci's usual style.

Jack Armstrong, a war veteran, is terminally ill with something that is never defined or explained in the book and is only referenced as something that Jack cannot spell or pronounce. (Read: The author made it up.) He is prepared to die but determined to last as long as Christmas. He writes one letter every day for what he assumes will be the last week of his life. On Christmas Eve his wife, who has forgotten to pick up some of Jack's medications from the pharmacy, dashes out into an ice storm and dies tragically in a car accident.

Jack's in-laws begin to make decisions as to what should be done with the three children, who are two, twelve, and almost sixteen. They determine that the only workable solution is to split the children up, sending them to live with various relatives, and put Jack in hospice.

Only Jack doesn't die. He suddenly begins to get better, breathing on his own and regaining his strength. He makes the backward trek from hospice to a sort of halfway house for the terminally ill, then sets about the task of recovering his family.

Jack's wife had a special place called "The Palace" on the coast of South Carolina as a child, and she has told Jack that she intends to take the children there the summer after Jack dies. Therefore Jack feels compelled to make the trip himself, especially after his wife's grandmother conveniently dies and leaves The Palace to Jack. He takes his children to South Carolina, and his best friend tags along.

The book had a very sweet story line and a pleasant ending, but it wasn't a satisfying read. I'm not one to predict a book's endings, and I can NEVER figure out whodunit, but I saw this one coming from the very beginning. I didn't think the characters were fully developed, particularly the teenaged daughter. She exhibited the extremes of teenage girl moodiness, but there was no middle ground. The two-year-old spoke baby talk, and the twelve-year-old forgot to talk at all.

It wasn't bad enough that I put it down in the middle, and I can honestly say it brought me to tears in a couple of places. I'm not a big fan of thrillers, but I'd rather read that genre by Baldacci than another one like this.

Some Things are Hard to Understand.....

2011-11-14T19:03:00.000-05:00

Before today, the last time I rode my bicycle was last Wednesday. I wasn't feeling great on Monday OR Wednesday, but I figured I could be miserable ON my bike or miserable OFF it. (There was a time I would have looked for any excuse NOT to ride my bike. Maybe I really AM a cyclist.)

Anyway, on to where I was really going with this post...

I rode the same exact route today that I rode last Wednesday. It's what I've started calling my "medium" route, about 15 miles long. The "long" route is 18 miles, and the "short" one is 12 miles. I've been riding the "medium" one without the extra little three-mile loop because the sun sets so much earlier now, and the shadows start creeping in before I can get home.

Last Wednesday I averaged 14.0 mph, which is my new standard. I try not to obsess about my average, but I have to admit I'm a little disappointed if it dips below 14.

Today when I left school, it felt like I was pedaling through mud. Or wet cement. I even looked down at my tires to see if they were so low on air that it was making it more difficult to pedal. It was uncharacteristically warm this afternoon, and I felt better than I have in days.

And I averaged 14.5 mph.

I'm not sure what to make of that.

Not How a Cold is Supposed to Act......

2011-11-13T19:23:00.002-05:00

This has been the strangest cold I've had in recent memory.

Wait... It's been the ONLY cold I've had in recent memory. So I guess I shouldn't complain too much.

Typically when I get a cold, it starts in my sinuses then settles in my chest. Sometimes (but thankfully rarely) it becomes bronchitis.

This time the tightness started in my chest, THEN progressed to coughing, THEN the sniffles and sneezing started yesterday. I felt the worst yesterday morning, and if it had been a school day, I probably wouldn't have gone. It was a FOOTBALL SATURDAY, though, so of course I went to the game.

We had already made plans to spend the night, since the game was over after dark, and some of those RV tailgaters just set their chairs and stuff up right in the middle of the driving lanes, oblivious of the fact that SOME PEOPLE might not want to make an ENTIRE WEEKEND of the event.

It was a miserable night, though. The noise of the generator, which usually doesn't bother me, almost drove me insane. I couldn't breathe because of my cold, and I almost woke Hubby up to tell him let's just go home. It must have been around 11:00. When I woke up again I was convinced it MUST be time to get up, and I stumbled to the living room part of the RV to look at my cell phone. It was 2:17.

Good. Lord.

We did manage to doze back off, thankfully, and it was just breaking daylight when we woke up the next time. I was never so glad in my life to come home. I love the RV and usually I'm just as happy sleeping in it as I am my own bed at home, but I guess because I felt rotten anyway, I wanted to be in my real bedroom.

I was unable to blog last night due to crappy internet service. I didn't even bother taking the laptop, since it hasn't worked where we tailgate, and while I could get TO my blog on my iPhone, I couldn't get to the part where it said "New Post."

I apologize that I made you wait a whole day for me to regale you with tales of mucus, sniffling, sneezing, wheezing, and whining.

You're welcome.

On a happy note, the ballgame was a thriller. Not a thriller in that it was competitive, but it was a huge win, and I'll take a lopsided victory over a heart-stopping one almost any day. The win means that if we can manage a win next week over ~~lowly~~ ~~not very competitive~~ SEC opponent Kentucky, we will go back to Atlanta for the SEC Championship game on December 3rd.

I can just hear you now. "Oh yay. More football talk. Goody."

But cheer up. It's only 47 more days until I start babbling incoherently about college gymnastics.

Favorite Things Friday - UGA Sweater.....

2011-11-11T19:37:00.000-05:00

Welcome to the first installment of Favorite Things Friday. It may be the only installment because -- who knows? -- by next Friday I may have forgotten completely that I wanted to start a new tradition.

Today's Favorite Thing is my UGA sweater.

This sweater is one of my favorite articles of clothing in the whole world. Now before you go saying, "Well of COURSE it is, it has UGA all over it...." that's not the reason it's one of my favorites. I have approximately a million different articles of clothing proclaiming my love for my alma mater, but this is one is my favorite for a number of reasons.

I've had this sweater since 2002, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. That was the first year UGA had any prayer of going to the SEC Championship game in Atlanta, and early in the season I told Hubby that if UGA made it, that was ALL I wanted for Christmas, was to go to that game.

As it turned out, Hubby WON tickets to the game through work, and I guess he felt guilty that the ONLY thing I wanted for Christmas was something he didn't even have to pay for. He may have also felt a little bit sorry for me because on the Saturday morning of the game, I had to go to school. And work. On the yearbook. On a freakin' Saturday.

Hubby decided while I was working he would run to Athens and buy me the sweater I had mentioned seeing at the UGA bookstore. That was his first mistake. He took Sweet Girl with him so he could make sure of the sizing. That was his second mistake. (Because it cost him a sweatshirt for her too.)

He surprised me with the sweater when I got home from school, and I was thrilled to be able to wear it to the championship game. He still looked a little shell-shocked from the price tag, but when we won the game, he considered it worth the sacrifice to do his part.

You can see it's a little rough around the edges, but for me that's part of the charm. I don't wear it to school as a rule; only big football games. I did, however, wear it today, and I plan to wear it to tomorrow's HUGE game. (Tomorrow could determine whether or not we return to the SEC Championship game.) In the picture above, you can barely see at the bottom of the sleeve where the stitching has come apart a little bit.

In this picture, the felt of the megaphone has attracted some fuzz from other parts of the sweater.

Mom had to help me replace one of the buttons once, and you can see the thread above where this one wants to come off too. Or again. Oh who am I kidding, Mom did it all by herself while I watched a different ballgame on television.

Sure, it's a little ostentatious.

Make that a LOT ostentatious.

The "G" in the picture above is on the BACK of the sweater. I guess they ran out of room after they put all the crap on the front.

I've never seen another sweater like this one, so I try to take care of it. I only have it professionally dry cleaned, and I always wear something under it like a tank top or a turtleneck. I wore what I THOUGHT was a black turtleneck under it today, only to discover after I got to school that the turtleneck was actually navy blue. If we don't win tomorrow, it will be all my fault because I mixed navy in with the red and black. (No, I'm not superstitious. Or psycho. Or a freak.) The first thing I did upon arriving home this afternoon was to make sure I knew where my BLACK turtleneck was for tomorrow.

10 Things I'd Rather Do Tomorrow.....

2011-11-10T20:01:00.001-05:00

Ten things I'd rather do tomorrow than go to school:

Finish the crochet project I'm working on so I can start another one.
Finish reading the book that's checked out in Hubby's name and is due tomorrow.
Find a way to tell Hubby the book he swore I would "really like" has yet to impress me.
Figure out all the gazillion places my credit card number is stored with various online stores since my credit card company tactfully told me my information had been accessed illegally and by the way here's you a new card, have fun trying to figure out all the places you need to change the number.
Take pictures of some things that will I plan to show on a new regular feature on my blog, "Favorite Things Friday." I unabashedly stole the name from someone whose blog has a jillion followers (and is NOT named Pioneer Woman), but he usually posts videos on his, so I'm not apologizing for stealing the title.
Sleep.
Sleep.
Sleep.
Watch the entire replay of the Georgia-Auburn game from 2007, the famous (infamous?) "Blackout Game," all of which Katydid and I missed because we were riding the tandem 75 miles that day.
Did I mention sleep?

"Between the Hedges" Takes on a Whole New Meaning.......

2011-11-09T19:54:00.000-05:00

If you're not familiar with Georgia football, the expression "between the hedges" might mean nothing to you. The football field at UGA has meticulously trimmed hedges on either side, so the phrase has taken on a life of its own over the years. The hedges are so sacred that when they had to be removed in preparation for soccer to be played there as part of the 1996 Olympic Games, there was an entirely new protocol written. Sprigs of the treasured hedges were sent to about four different TOP SECRET locations so that when they were replaced, they would be part of the original hedges.

See, it isn't just me. The whole Bulldog Nation is full of freaks.

One of UGA's battle cries has become, "It's time to tee it up between the hedges!"

During last Saturday's rout of the New Mexico State Aggies (give us a break, you're SUPPOSED to win 63-16 on Homecoming), the phrase took on a whole new meaning, at least for one Georgia player.
Something bothered me (you knew it would) about this announcer AND the female one on ESPN I heard give a description of the same incident. They both called them "bushes." Everyone in college football knows they're "hedges." If you are A) an announcer calling a football game IN THAT STADIUM; or B) a reporter who covers college football AS YOUR PROFESSION, you should know that, at least in Georgia, those English privets are called "hedges," not "bushes."

Besides, if we followed their examples, the rallying cry would be: "It's time to tee it up between the bushes."

And that, my friends, would take on a whole new meaning.

Food as Fuel - Part 1.......

2011-11-08T19:53:00.001-05:00

I've been thinking about food and eating a lot lately.

Oh, I guess for the last .... 50 years or so. I was probably thinking about food and eating while I was still in utero.

I've come up with some ideas about food that if I could only put into practice myself, I would look like that princess chick who just married that prince dude. But at least I'm thinking about them, which is one teensy step better than only thinking about my next meal. Or candy bar. Or snack.

Disclaimer: These thoughts may sound like I have the whole eating situation completely figured out and I will never have a weight problem again. Nothing can be farther from the truth. Correction: I DO have it all figured out, I just can't figure out how to put it into practice.

I read something a while back, and in fact I think I remember making one of my usual snide remarks about it on this very blog. The concept is that we shouldn't eat until we are full; we should eat until we aren't hungry anymore.

When I read that (and commented on it), I remember posting something sarcastic like if I could do that, we wouldn't be HAVING this little talk.

But the truth is, that one little mantra actually works.

IF I can remember to think it sometime before the next-to-last bite on my plate.

IF I can make myself stop eating even knowing that I'm not hungry anymore.

I marveled once at my principal during lunch because she was having "leftovers" that wouldn't have filled up a tablespoon. At least that's how it appeared to me. Seriously, the amount of food she had saved from the night before to have for lunch at school the next day was such a small one that I wouldn't have bothered. I would have ... eaten it, even if I were already full.

Therein lies ~~the~~ part of the problem.

I've always been bad (?) to eat EVERYTHING THAT WAS THERE. No matter the quantity. If the portions were small and the food disappeared, I was satisfied. If the portions were huge and there happened to be some food left, I ate MORE OF IT.

I came up with the bright idea once that it must be my mother's fault, so I asked her if she had ever made us stay at the table until our plates were clean. I'd heard that tidbit before, so I was ready to blame her for making me eat more than I needed.

Her response? "I had to push you away from the table from the time you could sit up."

Ouch.

There were seven of us when I was very young, and I distinctly remember going around the table after a meal and eating whatever anyone else left. My eldest brother called me the "human garbage disposal." I didn't even know what a garbage disposal WAS, but I had a vague idea that it wasn't a good thing to be called.

Anyway, that's one thing I'm working on. It requires that I be MINDFUL of what I'm eating, how much I'm eating, and how I feel at any given moment during a meal. I'm not there yet. But I'm gaining on it.

Wait...what?

Did I really just say "GAINING on it"?

What's Worse.....

2011-11-07T19:36:00.003-05:00

I feel obligated to write a blog entry every night, if for no other reason than the fact that three of my dearest family members read it regularly (thank you sister and sister and daughter).

Some nights, though, like tonight, I just want to go to bed, never mind that it's only 7:30. My body thinks it's 8:30, and by the time it gets adjusted to the "new" time, it will be time to change the clocks again.

I felt fine this morning, so apparently just whining about feeling bad is enough to render me cured. That and DJan's wise suggestion of physical activity. I figured if I felt well enough to go to school, I could darn well ride my bike home. The activity itself made me feel better and even lifted my spirits somewhat after a bummer of a day at school, but now I am wiped out.

So I don't know what's worse...

...skipping a night of writing in my blog.

...or writing a poor excuse for a blog entry just to say I did.

You decide, but be gentle with my feelings. They're sensitive right now.

Too Bad Weekends Have to End with Mondays....

2011-11-06T20:04:00.000-05:00

It's been an awesome weekend, beginning with the kindness of a stranger on Friday night, continuing with a huge Georgia Bulldog win (over a less-than-awe-inspiring opponent, but still) on Homecoming, a 25-mile bicycle ride this morning, and capped off by an Atlanta Falcons win this afternoon.

But sometime in the middle of the afternoon, in between crocheting and doing laundry and watching football, I started feeling lousy. Nothing specific, just a general **blah** feeling. I can't even really point to where it hurts, other than my foot, but I'm sure that has nothing to do with it. It's probably just the start of a cold, and I'll try not to whine about it. I haven't missed a day of school due to illness in over 7 years. I'm probably overdue.

But there's a chance I'll shake it off overnight and wake up tomorrow morning feeling no worse than I usually do on Monday mornings.

I'll cling to that hope, because it's really not a good week for me to stay out of school. Not that I'm indispensable, but there's a lot going on.

Is it too early to hope for a snow day?

Keeping Me Grounded, Just Another Service Hubby Provides.....

2011-11-05T18:53:00.002-04:00

If I ever find myself getting a little too far ahead of myself, a little too excited, a little too giddy, Hubby has an incredible ability to bring me right back to Earth. And slap some concrete shoes on my feet.

Last week I started thinking about a bike ride I've always wanted to do, SAGBRAW. I've wanted to do it because that's a part of the country I've never been to, and my very favorite cousin lives in Green Bay. (Shhh...Please don't tell my OTHER cousins.)

I read on the website that the route for 2012 would be announced on November 1st. I vowed that if the route went anywhere NEAR Green Bay, I was going to ride in it. I set a calendar reminder so I wouldn't forget to check the route.

The news couldn't have been better. Not only does the SAGBRAW route start about 30 miles from where my cousin lives, it's a LOOP ride, ending in the same place a week later. That means riders don't even have to worry about getting BACK across the state at the end of the ride.

I started making plans immediately, trying to decide whether I would camp outside, camp inside, or coerce Hubby into taking the RV. I emailed the CEO of BRAG to see if he might consider taking a group. (Not sure why I cared, since I have zero interest in riding in a van with 12 or 13 of my closest friends for two days.)

Unable to contain my excitement over an event that is EIGHT AND A HALF MONTHS IN THE FUTURE, I texted Hubby. Knowing he was on the golf course.

Now before you scoff at my naivete for bothering Hubby on the golf course, please try to understand that texting actually works for us. I can text him with something that might otherwise irritate/annoy/bore him, and he gets a chance to think about it before he answers. Sometimes those smart-ass answers take some careful thought and consideration.

Here is the transcript of our exchange of text messages:

Me: It isn't Iowa...... [Because I swore the last time I rode in RAGBRAI that I would never do it again, and I asked him to remind me of that if I ever mentioned the word "Iowa" again. Stupid me. Probably have to go back on that oath too.]..... I would like to do a bike ride in Wisconsin next summer. It starts only about 40 miles from Dana's house.

Hubby: Whatever

Me: I knew you'd be excited.

I love that man.

Not What I Was Going to Write About....

2011-11-04T21:02:00.002-04:00

It seems I have a number of blog topics with some variation of that title. Sometimes I struggle to find something to write about that isn't just another version of "what I did today and why I'm grumpy." Other days, like today, I have a blog topic all thought-out and written in my mind, and all I have to do is type it. That was the case today, and I almost wrote my blog topic at school, but I have just enough morals to feel that isn't right, so I didn't. Okay, moral. One.

Then something happened that forced me to preempt tonight's topic. And it wasn't the incident in the parking lot where I get my hair cut, where I was crossing the parking lot and almost got run over by a businessman screeching through the parking lot. Going the wrong way. In reverse. (Good thing they took my blood pressure at the blood drive BEFORE this little incident, because I'm pretty sure they would have been checking their equipment for malfunctions.)

Hubby and I went to a steakhouse for dinner in a nearby town (since our town doesn't HAVE a steakhouse). I didn't really have an appetite, since I was still trembling from the incident in the parking lot. It is impossible for me to tell you how close he really came to hitting me. Close enough that he felt compelled to come back, enter the salon, and apologize. He left with his ears burning and his tail tucked between his legs. The adrenaline was flowing, folks. I could have set a personal best on my bicycle, if I'd had it with me.

I wasn't crazy about the idea of going out to eat, and I didn't want to drive that far. But Hubby said I could drive his new car, and it DID mean I wouldn't have to cook on a Friday night, so we went.

I ordered rainbow trout, something I've never had before in my life. That has absolutely nothing to do with this blog post. (For the record, I prefer salmon.) When we were finished eating, the waitress approached our table. She looked kind of sheepish.

"Someone in this restaurant," she said, "is paying for your meal."

Hubby didn't hear what she said at first, so I repeated it. He looked around, I made a joke to the waitress about it being impossible because we don't HAVE any friends (at least that aren't too cheap to pay for our dinner), and she said, "Nope, it's this table. He said table #55, and that is your table."

Hubby went to the bathroom so he could glance around the crowded restaurant, and I saw the transaction take place while he was gone. The family at a table near ours got a check even though they had just received their food, and I saw the woman cut her eyes over toward our table. I made sure I didn't make eye contact with her, but I was trying to see if I knew them. We were near a town where I used to teach, and I thought it might be possible that a former student was buying our dinner.

Then the waitress returned and murmured to me that this man has done this before. He comes in the restaurant, chooses a table, and pays for the whole meal. I wanted to tell him "thank you," but the waitress said I shouldn't, that he wanted to remain anonymous.

We were grateful for the free meal, but it gave us a strange feeling. I told Hubby that it was a wonderful thing to do, and I appreciate people's random acts of kindness as much as the next person, but I almost wish the man had paid for a meal for a family that couldn't afford it. Missing the point COMPLETELY, Hubby said people who can't afford it don't come to a steakhouse.

I don't mean that to sound like I'm ungrateful. It was a totally cool thing to happen, particularly after almost being murdered by vehicle AND finding the road home closed due to some repairs, necessitating a left turn in evening traffic onto one of the worst roads in our town.

All by itself, that little act tipped the barometer of this day from "leaning toward sucky" all the way over to "almost impossibly cool."

I understand the concept of paying it forward and random acts of kindness, and believe me when I say I fully intend to pay it forward. And not just because random acts of kindness are on my 50 Things to Do list.

I still wanted to say "thanks."

Six-Word Memoirs.....

2011-11-03T20:24:00.000-04:00

Ever since my six-word memoir got published, I have found myself creating them in my mind all the time. I rarely write them down, but if you ever see me walking around muttering and counting on my fingers, that is PROBABLY what I'm doing. Maybe I'll compile an entire book of them and see if anyone buys THAT.

**Crickets**

**Crickets**

Maybe not.

Anyway.

Here are a few of my latest creations. I wrote these down today as a reluctant alternative to rendering several teenagers incapable of human reproduction. I apologize for the restraint.

Riding twenty years. Finally, a cyclist.

I don't "please wait" very well.

I may have said that before.

Made that up on the fly.

Hardest part of laundry? "Remove promptly."

Unexpected Text Message.....

2011-11-02T20:27:00.002-04:00

I received an unexpected text message this past Saturday from Jason, my BFF from high school.

I've written about him a number of times:

We have been in touch only sporadically since he coerced me into returning to the Facebook world. We text every now and then, email almost as infrequently. But the feelings I have for him are just as strong as they were when we were in high school and college. It's sort of a brother/best friend/confidante/partner in crime wrapped up in one. A perfect relationship without the sex. Which some would say makes it a perfect relationship.

Jason's text on Saturday read: "Hey D. Wanted to give you my new number in Atlanta. It's....."

I texted back: "Wait...What? You're in Atlanta?" And naturally I was 6 hours in the OTHER direction, in Florida.

Jason has lived in Texas for years. It's where he lived before he came to Georgia when we were in 9th grade. I knew he was a Texas boy at heart and would someday return there. So it came as quite a shock to learn that he was back in Georgia.

Naturally I want to see him. But I'm also a little ... what ... shy? Nervous? I haven't laid eyes on him since before Sweet Girl was born. Pardon me for the understatement, but a LOT has happened since then. I'm not so worried about how we pick up where we left off; my weekends with girlfriends from high school has shown that we do that very well. I guess I'm a little apprehensive about how to go about merging all these people together, people who are very important to me but would have absolutely nothing to do with one another if I weren't the common denominator. Does that even make sense?

And because I've sent Jason the link to my blog before and there's a slim chance he's reading this:

Jason - I loved you for who you were before you knew who you were. I hope you will love the person I've become as much as you loved who I was. I hope we can get together soon. Almost thirty years of catching up is going to take ... well, thirty years or so.

Some Pictures from the Weekend....

2011-11-01T20:33:00.002-04:00

A few random shots from the weekend spent with my Sweet Girl and going to the Georgia-Florida football game. (Did I mention UGA won? For only the 4th time in 22 tries? First time in 4 years? Did I mention I was there for that win too? No? I must be slipping.)

The Metro Diner in Jacksonville. Katydid, Frogger Blogger and I ate there when we were in Jax, so I now consider it a tradition. It's a little hole-in-the-wall joint, but the food is excellent. The weather was nice, so we didn't mind waiting outside. We only had to wait 25 minutes, and a parking place magically opened up in their postage-stamp-sized parking lot just as we drove up. It was meant to be!

The order of these pictures is sort of random, but not on purpose. This is the scene leaving the stadium. Oddly enough, when the final seconds ticked off the scoreboard, the UGA fans didn't want to leave. The players were still on the field, the band was still playing... For some strange reason, though, the Florida side of the stadium was empty.

I would love to tell you what was going on at the very moment of this picture, but I'm just not that good.

This shot was from the ramp going up to our seats. Up. And up. And up.

These folks were waiting for the UGA football players to arrive. After the team entered the stadium, they stuck around waiting for a different celebrity to arrive...

A view of the river in the background, with some of the gazillion tailgaters. People arrive as early as a week in advance of this game. And then they wonder why they don't remember the game.

This is the vehicle carrying the OTHER celebrity. Folks stood around forever waiting for Russ to appear. Russ is the interim mascot, pressed into service when Uga VIII died. If you click on the picture, you will see the vanity plate on the SUV says "UGA VIII." The same family has raised the English bulldog mascots for UGA since the 1950's. We haven't heard yet when Uga IX will make his appearance.

Please don't tell anyone we were actually in our seats this early.

This party bus is well known at all UGA football games. It belongs to a friend of Hubby's, though he has basically turned it over to the younger generation and has a DIFFERENT RV that he stays in. There is a constant stream of people up and down that ladder all day long, and most of them don't even know to whom the bus belongs. Hubby and I went to one home game on the party bus. Hubby's buddy would tell people to be at his house at 8:07 to leave for the game, and if you got there at 8:08, he would be gone.

Bad hair day. I took a little trial-size hairspray with me, but it wouldn't work. I'm not sure it would have been up to the task anyway. You can't tell it, but my shirt, my other shirt, my earrings, my sunglasses, my socks, and my shoes all had the UGA logo on them. I wore face tattoos to one game, but then I realized there were no other 50-year-old women sporting face tattoos (only college girls, and they also wear cowboy boots with dresses), so I haven't worn them since.

The view of some bridge whose name I can never remember.

There were two Florida fans in our section, and this one felt comfortable enough in his fandom to wear that head thingie with that other thingie draped around his neck. They were nowhere to be seen as the final seconds ticked off the clock. Did I mention UGA won the game?

Why I Hate Halloween This Year.....

2011-10-31T19:47:00.001-04:00

It's not because the neighborhood hoodlums dress up (or not) in costumes and come to the door begging for candy.

It's not because I told Hubby we could leave the porch light off and just skip it this year and he vetoed that idea and bought two bags of candy, one of which is my very favorite in the world, Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, and they are sitting in the bowl taunting me.

It's not because some of the "kids" who come to the door begging for candy are taller than I am. Okay, that's not saying much. Taller than Hubby.

It's not because I didn't get a chance to go grocery shopping this weekend and had to go after school today, completely and totally forgetting it was Halloween, and having to dodge the "little bastards" (Hubby's term, not mine) on every aisle and thereby forgetting to get Cool Whip in the process.

It's not because I teach teenagers and every. single. year. someone asks me why we don't get a day out of school for Halloween.

This year, it's not because the doorbell keeps interrupting the Georgia-Florida game, during which Georgia is getting their a**es handed to them on a plate. (Did I mention we won?)

It's not because trick-or-treating is only beginning when I am ready to go to bed.

This year it's because I was completely dressed for school this morning and running only slightly behind schedule with a few minutes to throw together a (completely unsatisfactory) lunch when I suddenly remembered it was Halloween, and I have not one but two shirts with some version of "Happy Halloween" (yes, I recognize the irony) on them and I had to start all over again getting dressed, right down to the socks.

It is the only day you will EVER catch me dressed in orange.

Happy Halloween.

Such as it is.

Why We Blog.....

2011-10-30T20:11:00.002-04:00

I'm looking for input for a blog topic I tossed around in my own head on the six-hour ... YES, SIX-HOUR ... drive home from Sweet Girl's house today.

I came up with quite a few ideas of my own, some of which contradict each other (no surprise there), but I would appreciate some input from my readers.

Why do we blog?

Why do YOU blog?

Why do you think some other people blog?

What do we get out of blogging?

How does blogging intersect with the rest of our lives?

I would like to nominate my friend Neena to research this topic. She is already doing her Ph.D. research on mommy bloggers in particular, so it should be no sweat for her to extend her research and write ANOTHER dissertation on blogging in general. (Come on, Neena, you KNOW that it is only at the end of the dissertation process that we figure out what the hell it is we were supposed to be doing all along!)

On a related note, that's almost exactly what I said to my doctoral committee during my final defense. I suggested that in the future they require candidates to write TWO dissertations, since the first one is where you figure out what you're supposed to be doing. The second one could be the real one. I suggested they start it with the class immediately following my own. They didn't go for it, but they did find the sentiment amusing. It's all about the laughs in a final defense.

Anyway, if you have thoughts on the topic of blogging, feel free to leave them in the comments section. You can have an opinion on the subject even if you don't blog yourself.

Have a great week!

Hey Gators.....

2011-10-29T22:31:00.002-04:00

Hey Gators...

Chomp THIS.

Nuff said.

The World's Largest Outdoor Cocktail Party.....

2011-10-28T22:58:00.001-04:00

I am in Jacksonville, visiting Sweet Girl for the first time in .... oh ... forever. Tomorrow we will go to the annual Georgia-Florida football game, which has been played in Jacksonville since right after Adam and Eve got thrown out of Eden. It is supposed to be a "neutral" site, but every year some Georgia fans raise sand, asking how it can be neutral when it's always in Florida. Every now and then the topic of alternating the game between Georgia and Florida comes up, and different fans (or the same ones, who knows?) raise sand because they LIKE the ~~weekend~~ ~~four-day~~ week-long event the game has become. It is unique in that the stadium is divided exactly in half, all orange and blue on one side (yuck) and red and black on the other.

I haven't been to the Ga-Fla game all that many times. I only went once in college. It was Herschel Walker's freshman year, and the game became known as the Buck Belue to Lindsay Scott game, a miraculous last-minute win by Georgia on a 92-yard pass and run play. Georgia went undefeated that year and went on to take the national championship in January.

It's hard to describe the culture of this event. It isn't just another football game. It's like the Army-Navy game without the discipline. The Ohio State-Michigan game without the cold. The UCLA-USC game only with real football players. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.

Sadly, it seems that someone dies every year. Not necessarily at the stadium, but in some way connected to the game. One year Hubby and I went to the game, only to read the next morning that a guy had died from a fall down the stairs at a bar just a little while after we were there. We were only there because it A) was near the stadium; and B) sold beer in cute little football-shaped mugs. For about ten bucks a pop. Good thing I gave up beer, since Hubby isn't here this year to bankroll it.

Some people say that the business people of Jacksonville really prefer for Georgia to win, because then we spend money celebrating. And we're here for the duration of the weekend. If Florida wins (as they have like 18 out of the last 21 years or something equally ridiculous, damn them), they just go on back home.

We are sincerely hoping to give the city of Jacksonville a huge economic boost tomorrow night.

Go Dawgs!!!