Priorities

I switched back to aluminum. I don't care if my body can hold up artwork on my refrigerator like a magnet, I don't want to stink. Yesterday, when I went to hug a friend goodbye, there was a tiny voice in my head shouting, "And you know you smell good too!"

Priorities.

Tonight, between dish washing, vacuuming, taking out the garbage and the recycling, I slipped into the computer room...
to look at the Tim Holtz site which I try to do at least once a day.
 My right arm, extended over the desk, is numb and tingly. So, I scoot the chair closer to the keyboard. No good. I draw my arm back, lift it over my head and wiggle my fingers. I try again to put my hand back on the keyboard, but OW! So I lift it up and do some shoulder rolls.

Now before you start planning my funeral, I have had this issue with my arm for some time. Sometimes I wake up in the night and think it's surely the moment when I go to the doctor and just ask them to remove this lump that I apparently sleep on regularly. The downside to a tempurpedic mattress? When you sleep heavy, parts of your body get squished.

After the shoulder rolls and an acknowledgement that maybe I've done too much today, I reach again for the keyboard... OW! Dont. care. must. see. new... Tim Holtz sizzix dies...

Priorities.

Today, we had a tea party. With real tea.*
The kids giggled, "It's water isn't it!"
"Nope, real tea".
"It's hot chocolate!"
"Nope, real tea".

Their little faces were billboards for confusion.
It was herb tea. THE BEST HERB TEA I HAVE EVER FOUND!! And if I was the type to regress, I would really expound on this incredibly yummy thing I have found...

Anyway, I made everyone come to the table dressed for tea. The result was interesting...

You would think I could have served scones with cream or cucumber sandwiches, but there's leftovers to be eaten and no Husband to take care of that department for us, so Sloppy Joe tea it was.

We also had grapes.
The kids like to stuff them up under their upper lip and entertain each other with their ape-like faces.

I am a firm believer in playing with your food at the table-- great conversations come from it.

The little guy shouts, "Look, J2 already has a mustache, you can see it!"
We all giggle and go on with our conversation and he adds,
 "I'm going to have a mustache too. I want a French one".

We really laughed over that, until I googled it. I guess there is a French mustache:

Zazzle image

So, instead of packing...

or finishing the laundry...

or preparing for the day tomorrow,



I grant my little guy's wish.

Priorities.

*Mormon moms don't serve tea... 

especially if there's Dr. Pepper in the house! 
Just joking!

Reminds me of another great British advert: 

Au Natural

Does going "natural" mean I have to stink?
Does the avoidance of aluminum (or aluminium for my British friends) under my arms mean that I am doomed to clear a room when I reach for something high?

I think this green/healthy thing is getting old. I mean really, who wants to live longer if we can't stand the smell of one another?

House update: 

We submitted an offer, it was accepted. (yay)

We start our move in three weeks, will be out of this house in 5 weeks. (yikes)

The only hold up at the moment is trying to track down our current landlord so that he can verify that
we have paid in full and on time. He's changed his numbers and living address and didn't bother to tell us. (of course)

While trying to get the house ready for inspection, a large tree fell down in the back yard this morning. (I made the mistake of asking, "What else can happen today?")

*Speaking of great times to be had by all, yesterday, a rabbit committed suicide by throwing itself with extreme force into the grill of our 1-month old vehicle. It smashed through the plastic grill. I have spared you the photos of my hero  12-year old son/aka "man-of-the-house" trying to extract it. You're welcome.

*Our Norwich City season tickets came-- correction, two came, and the request to come in person to the ticketing office with proof of my children's ages came.  The office is 35 minutes from here.

*There was a notice in my military post office box telling me to fill out a form and include a set of the Husband's military orders within a specific time or they will change the combination to the lock. The box is 45 minutes from here.

And that's just the tip of the iceberg called Murphy's Military Law (when the husband deploys, everything will break, or generally just go south).

School FINALLY let out today, so technically, summer has begun. I am wearing a jacket as I type, because I have been chilled all day. I love England I love England I love England I love England I love England I love England I love England...

Did anyone see this Bronx Zoo Cobra's Tweet?

@BronxZoosCobra Bronx Zoo's Cobra

I rllaey hpoe taht Hrary Peottr wnis bset mvoie tnogiht at the MTV Mvoie Arawds! #ParseltongueTweet #MTVMovieAwards

6 Jun via web
 
My stressed-out, naturally smelly arm pits and I will be gracing a son's football tournament tomorrow, what are you doing for your weekend? 

Migration Season

Well,

can I just say that other than Kat, who threw herself in front of me pleading for rationality, for the most part the rest of you were pretty mild. So with that said...


drum roll please...


(one-armed drum roll like Def Leppard's Rick Allen if you like)...

I am officially moving! 


Well, not officially officially- the Mrs. Future Landlord was quite pleased with us and our offer to ensconce ourselves in her beautiful home, but since she and Mr. Future Landlord both have to sign on the dotted line, she still needs to present it to him.
I think he's off haggis hunting in Scotland or something, so hopefully tomorrow I will know if I am officially officially moving house by myself while my husband sits in the hot desert watching Haji dvds.

So that's it. Feel free to call the authorities and have me declared insane.
But first, have a look at this...
(and btw, this isn't a "grass is greener" scenario, we've had some shady things happen regarding our landlord and for our own protection and peace of mind, are moving).

 See? Easy roof cleaning. Perfect sized house for the kids. Fine, that's really the back side of an open carport.

  Our Christmas tree for 2011

Do you suppose I will ever know where she is?

And there's an inside to this place too... look at the lovely floor my kids will flood.






I will miss my Aga. I will desperately, most likely mourn for months for the Aga. I already miss the pool since summer has avoided us for the second straight year. I won't miss throwing money into it via chemicals and the time spent cleaning it only for the weather be too cold for swimming.

And I will miss the Hedwig hooting outside while I type and the Moorhens (who seem to lose babies to our pond every year).


But when winter comes,
and every child gets to stay in their room rather than move to parts of the house where the radiators work,
I will smile.

So technically, we're being snow birds. Flying off to a warmer house for winter (the season that never leaves).

So truth time: How many times did you have to Google something from this post?

Counseling Accepted

I've done it again...

some people overeat when their spouse deploys.

Some watch too much t.v.

Some start an exercise program.

Some learn a new language, start a new hobby or just sit and count the days away.

I shop for houses.

and talk myself into all the reasons I need to move.

yes, again.

NOTHING

...is what I've got. There's about seven drafts sitting in my to-be-posted folder but since they are a LOT of nothing, I thought I'd spare you some time and make a short post about nothing.

With photos.

The daughter has been making sculptures to send to daddy.

Here is a daffodil and a squid.

Give her a break, she's four.

Here is the same girl trying to fry Mommy with her evil laser-scowl all the way across a field (good thing I have a good zoom lens or I would've disintegrated getting this close to her).

She's at her "Sports Day" refusing to participate because I changed her out of her school shoes and into something better for running.

Just for the record, she doesn't go to school with face-less children...

this gives me an idea though...

 I know this is all kinds of wrong, but it's been that kind of day.

Information Please

So many things are missing from our lives these days.

Remember when the broadcasting day ended with a black and white video of a flag waving in the breeze to the tune of the Star Spangled Banner? There was no staying up through the night only to greet children bleary-eyed and grumpy the next morning just so that one could watch the season finale of Desperate Housewives at midnight.

And the nasally voice that was always there, always willing to help...

"Operator, May I Help you?"

I wish we still had Operator assistance.

I would ask if she could tell me where my son's football kit went. I washed it (and the track suit) to return to the team he's leaving... I now only have the track suit top. Socks, shorts, shirt and track bottoms have all just vanished.

I'd also ask her why the military "powers that be" make illogical policies.
Is it really more cost-effective to post a troop and his large family overseas, then pluck that military member out of job to deploy him-- now paying for a family to live overseas while they bring in another military person from somewhere else to cover the firsts' job? Wouldn't it be cheaper to just fly someone from the states where the family is NOT receiving overseas housing allowance?
Not that I'm complaining, I love it here.  
They can pay my overseas housing costs for the rest of my life if they have that kind of money to throw around.

While I have Miss Operator on the line, I'd ask her how she felt about the ELO song...

And then maybe tell her a joke or two:  

-*-  A young man called directory assistance. "Hello, operator, I would like the telephone number for Mary Jones in Phoenix, Arizona.""There are multiple listings for Mary Jones in Phoenix," the operator replied. "Do you have a street name?" The young man hesitated, and then said, "Well, most people call me Ice Man." 

-*-  After directory assistance gave me my boyfriend's new telephone number, I dialed him and got a woman. "Is Robert there?" I asked. "He's in the shower," she responded. "Please tell him his girlfriend called," I said and hung up.

When he didn't return the call, I dialed again. This time a man answered. "This is Robert," he said.

"You're not my boyfriend!" I exclaimed.

"I know," he replied. "That's what I've been trying to tell my wife for the past half-hour."


 

But sadly, there is no pressing "0" any more.  
All I have is Google 
and it has no idea where the newly-washed football kit is... 

Missing Kit, but not the bib or neon-green gloves

Sometimes technology isn't all that it's cracked up to be.

What are you missing?