Because this…
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We woke up with new snow this morning, and it is still snowing from overnight. Was snowing pretty heavily for a while. I love snow!

Minerva hasn’t seen snow since Amarillo, and this morning I opened the blinds in the reading room so she could get to the window sill. She’s chirping at the snowflakes as if they were insects or lizards.

She’s so cute!

I didn’t even think to put out all of our candles until yesterday after everyone had arrived and Frank’s mom was commenting on my awesome taste in decorations. Really, she was; I’m not just bragging, though I might be bragging a little. See, almost all of my Christmas decorations are candle holders. I have a lot of garland and some wreaths, too, but anything that sits on a counter or a cabinet or a mantel is a candle holder (there are a few outliers, but not many). So after we ate dinner and the dishes were mostly done, everyone sat down for a movie. Well, everyone that was still there. Joe Foo’ and Denise and Frank’s grama had left, so Frank and his dad and Sarah One were watching a movie while my MIL and I worked on the dishes (really, she cleaned the kitchen — I just helped — and I was thankful for the help). The first movie was hard for me to get into, because I was washing dishes at first and didn’t hear what the film was about, and every other word I heard was a word I preferred not to hear, so that was fine. When Frank’s mom & I finally took a break, I went straight upstairs to take care of my little candle problem. I put the metal tealights in the tealight houses and the clear-cup tealights in the open tealight holders and the snow globes (which are both candle holders as well). The pillar candles where the pillar candles go.

And then I thought I might light a few of them. And wouldn’t you know, all that traipsing up and down the stairs was for nothing. I can’t find my butane lighters, though I’m almost certain we did bring them. The matches I knew we gave away in Florida, but I’m sure we have lighters. So alas, I was not able to light all of the Christmas candles. And it all looks so awesome when it’s all lit up. My snowman collection on the mantel is still cute, but when the candles are lit it looks so much better. Argh.

Anyway, that’s on my list for tomorrow. Some way to light the candles I do have.

Frank and I both got new games for Christmas. I got Harry Potter for Wii, and Frank got Super Mario Galaxy. They are both so much fun. I’m completely addicted to Potter. I love all the little mini-quests and side games, and the films that you unlock as you go through the game. I love lighting torches just because I can. In Mario, I watch Frank play, and with the second controller, I collect coins for him while he’s surfing rays or dodging smart bullets.

Video games are fun! Who knew?

I resume catching up on blogreading and blogging. Expect lots of pictures and more of the Florida move story.

My feet hurt. Other than that, it’s been a great day! We had the Js over (all of Frank’s immediate family and his grandma) for Christmas dinner and presents and fun. We went to midnight mass last night with Frank’s parents and Sarah, and we were up until four cooking more and wrapping gifts and such. We had a rather big feast and lots of snacks and then watched a couple of movies.

I’m about wiped out, but not too wiped out to play a little Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix on the Wii. :-D

More tomorrow. I have my computer back, and things should get back to normal. After I sleep in heavily. ;-)

I hope y’all had a great Christmas. Love y’all!

We’ve seen more movies at the theater since arriving in Idaho than we saw this entire past year at the theater in Florida. It helps that Sarah One is here and goes to the movies so often. We’ve seen Enchanted, 3:10 to Yuma, and tonight we saw Charlie Wilson’s War. We went into the theater around 5:00 this evening (and it was beautifully cold, couldn’t have been much above twenty degrees out), and when we came out after 7:00, it was snowing and had been for a while. It was coming down fairly heavily, and we were all surprised. By the time we finished dinner, we’d gotten a good half inch or so. Yay! Of course, on the way home, we had a little moment where I kind of gently slid off the road and onto the grassy patch next to it. No biggie, only a half spin or so. And the drivers here are so stinking nice! The cars behind me just paused and waited for me to get back onto the road (I just drove a couple of feet on the grass and moved right back). Not one single car passed me. I heart Idaho drivers. When you signal? They actually let you over! I’ve not been cut off one time since arriving.

Anyway. Nice evening. And snoooooow!

Ok, I’ve not rented a house since Amarillo, and I actually knew the people who owned the Amarillo house (to an extent). So this is my first rental since 2004 where I actually know nothing about the owner, and Frank was the first owner of the Florida house, and I trust him pretty well, which is good since we’re, you know… married. And of course, since I’m slightly paranoid (only slightly, of course), I always think of ways someone could spy on me. I’m a freak, yes, I know. I especially think of such things when I’m in the bathroom. I’m just sitting around… or taking a shower… and I wonder: did the owner of the house or the previous renters install a security camera system in the house before we moved in? Yes, these are the things I think about when I ponder life’s questions. I start looking around… is there a security camera in that heat lamp over the shower? In the fireplace somewhere? Security camera used for terrible purposes? These are the things I ponder.

Last night made me a little more paranoid than normal. I turned on the fan in the bathroom (I always turn on the fan, because I don’t like for Frank to hear me tinkle, or he might start to think I’m human), and it was making a strange noise. Which totally freaked me out. My first thought was, “The fan must be making noise, because the blades keep hitting the secret camera the owner is hiding in there!” Why my mind goes the places it goes…

I haven’t been able to uncover any CCTV camera systems, though when we buy a house, I’m completely for installing them there. The monitors will be in the saferoom.

No. I’m not crazy. Why do you ask?

My power cord finally arrived today. We are finally a two-computer house again! This means much more blogging and time to actually read blogs. Yay!

I can’t even upload pictures for y’all, and I know exactly which ones y’all want to see. I have awesome pictures of my smashed toe, which I know you’re eagerly awaiting. I mean, I would be, too, so I understand. The toe is doing much better, btw. It doesn’t bleed at all now. I’m not going to the doctor for it, in case you’re wondering. I don’t need a tetanus shot — I dropped a wooden bookcase on the sucker. One corner of my nail will fall off eventually, but I can live with that. I’ve lost my right thumbnail twice before, so no biggie. There’s basically a circle formed by the nail and the… um, cut that makes it look like a tiny part of my toe could fall off. But it hurts less and less all the time, and I’ve been letting the alcohol and band-aids do their job.

And wow. My Christmas tree is so TEH AWESOME! I can’t remember having a Christmas tree so fat and full in a long time. Good news, though. It’s still drinking. It didn’t need water this morning, but it needed it tonight, so I know it’s still thirsty (because the cats have slept alllll day). I would love to show y’all pics, but again. The uploading thing.

Oh, and the reading room? The mountain view is so beautiful I can’t even describe it. But it makes me giddy that THIS IS WHERE I LIVE! SERIOUSLY! I LIVE HERE! I want to show y’all pictures of the magnificent sunset I witnessed from my reading chair yesterday (the reading chair is my very most favorite napping place now). And the mountains today as we drove through THE VALLEY (sorry, Tammi, WE live in THE Valley, yours can’t be anywhere as amazing, love ya)? Ahhhh! The shadows that the clouds displayed on the mountains… just awesome!

Anyway, my blasted cord isn’t here yet. Ack.

UPDATE: FedEx says I’ll get it tomorrow. Yay!

We finally got a Christmas tree Wednesday (we needed to get a lot of stuff out of the livingroom before we would have a place for the tree). It’s a noble fir, and it was cheap! See, being so late in the season and all, when we walked onto the Christmas tree lot, the guy told us the Douglases were $20, and the nobles were “a little more,” but that everything is negotiable. The nobles were marked around $80, and we paid $40. We didn’t even have to negotiate — we just asked how much our tree was, and he said, “Eh… forty,” and I said, “We’ll take it!” Woohoo! It’s so pretty, and the whole house smelled like a Christmas tree within hours.

Oh yeah. Ok, so Wal-Mart and Lowes were both out of Christmas tree stands! I was glad about Lowe’s being out, since we don’t officially do business with them anymore. So we went to Fred Meyer for the Christmas tree stand, and we got the super-most-awesome Christmas tree stand ever. It’s so heavy that the kitties will most likely not knock over the tree any more! How cool is that? I’ll grab the tag and tell y’all what brand it is later, because everyone should have this stand.

Tonight I put on the lights and most of the ornaments. I need to add a few more ornaments and a few more snowflakes and just a teeny bit of tinsel and it’s all ready to go. Oh, but this tree is a drinker. Whoa, I filled it up last night, and the water was very low tonight. So either the eight-footer is slurping up the water, or the kitties are stealing it like they steal my breath when I’m sleeping. So I’ll have to check it in the morning to see if it needs a refill.

I still need to put the lighted garland on the banister (I threw some plain garland up there the other day just so it would look somewhat Christmasy around here, but the banisters definitely need lights) and hang a few things and get the top of the fireplace all decorated. Don’t worry, y’all; I know a lot of you were worried when I mentioned possibly putting a TV above the fireplace, but I’m telling you, even when we run the fireplace from the time we get up in the morning until the time we go to bed, the top does not get hot. The moulding that hangs over the fireplace does get hot, but the flat surface above that really does not. No joke. And it’s a pretty deep surface, too, not like your normal mantel; this is about two feet from the front of the top of the fireplace to the wall.

Anyway, other than the wreath on the door, I don’t think we’ll do any outside decorations this year, because we don’t have time for it, but I’ll be happy that the inside will be all fixed up for Christmas. Besides, the only outside lights I have (that aren’t indoor/outdoor and thus being used either on the tree or in garland) are icicle lights, and I’m kinda eh on those now. I’m not sure why I’m eh on them; I think it’s because the year I bought them, every stinking house in my neighborhood ended up having them, because that’s the year they suddenly caught on with everyone. I don’t see as many now, but I’m ready for something new. If we were doing outside lights this year, I would want to order new Christmas lights. I’m big into mini lights, and I just saw that they now come in white frost and snow! How precious is that? I also love the LED Christmas lights. Not the brightly colored ones — oh, I shall have to take pictures around the nearby neighborhoods for you, because some of the houses are sporting so many multi-colored lights that it looks like a kid just got out there with his glow-in-the-dark finger paints and went to town. But I do love the little berry ones (in warm white or red) and several of the other LEDs. On the color front, I’m pretty much into only red where lights are concerned. Especially with LEDs — with blue ones, I’d come home to see a thousand computer indicator lights staring at me. Ok, next year we must do outside lights. Tasteful outside lights put up by adults.

Anyway, since our place can fit everyone comfortably, we’re actually having Christmas with Frank’s family over here this year. I’m so excited! Company!

Now to just work out the menu with my mother-in-law and learn how to make gluten-free pie crust.

Frank’s dad went back to the Mayo Clinic this week for evaluation. His recent counts for amyloidosis have been improving but not as much as the doctor had hoped for (if I remember correctly), so we were worried they would want to do the stem cell transplant now, which would mean that my in-laws would be gone for a month, and he’d be recovering for another six months or so after that. But the Mayo docs did their eval, and they got to come home today. They’re going to see what things look like in three months, because the docs were pleased with the numbers this week. So that was great.

Also, Joe Foo’ and Denise arrived today. We weren’t sure if they were going to get to come for the holidays at all, because Joe ships out overseas again in early January, and we didn’t know if he could come for Christmas week or New Year’s week or both. They arrived today as well and get to stay until after New Year’s Day! Great news there as well.

It seems like we’ve gotten more good news, but it’s late so I don’t remember what else.

A couple of weeks ago, I received this in the mail:

I have the silver tube. The closed tube looks like something to make you pretty, right? But it is actually pepper spray. I haven’t tested it on anyone to see how it works, and the people and dog around me probably appreciate that, but it does carry well and… well, cutely. The case is supposed to look like lipstick, but actually it is a little big for a tube of lipstick, in my opinion, and really looks more like a tube of foundation or cover-up. Either way, it’s disguised well and looks like some form of makeup. The tube carries five one-second bursts and sprays up to six feet. The best part is that I don’t have to worry about accidentally hitting the nozzle and spraying myself (don’t spray me, bro!), because the nozzle is enclosed in the disguise. The website doesn’t mention it, but the packaging noted that it does contain the UV dye that helps to identify attackers.

But SarahK, you carry a gun. Why the pepper spray? See, I’m perfectly happy with my Pop Pop for any situation where a human is attacking me. But I’m always a teeny bit worried about what happens if someone grabs my purse or knocks it out of my hand and my Pop Pop happens to be in the purse that day. I figure I can either carry additional self defense products or carry a backup gun, which is easier said (for a women) than done. I can carry the “lipstick” pepper spray in my pocket (and have done) and then still be able to defend myself long enough to get my purse back. Also, there is the issue of dogs. I always carry a gun when I walk Rowdi, but I don’t see that as a realistic way to take down an aggressive dog that is trying to attack Rowdi or me. Most likely, I’ll end up letting Rowdi go (if the other dog is out of control), and I’m thinking she won’t back down and run away. She’ll want to protect me. So even though I shoot like a girl (meaning, I’m very accurate), there’s a good chance my own dog would get in the way of a bullet. I’d prefer not to shoot at an animal or even a human if Rowdi may get caught in the crossfire. With the pepper spray, I don’t have to worry about hitting Rowdi, because even though she’ll most likely get sprayed too, I’m not going to accidentally kill my dog in the process of trying to take out the threat. I’ll have to take her home and wash out her eyes and wash off her skin (and probably my own), but I can live with that a lot easier than with the other.

Warning: This post contains graphic descriptions of a most heinous act of bloody stupidity. Do not read this while you are eating.

So last night I got mad at Frank because I wanted to play Wii golf and he’s bored with Wii golf, and I was of the opinion that he should just be thrilled that I wanted to play anything at all since I don’t even like video games. Anyway, I decided to act like a big baby to get my point across, instead of just telling him, because as y’all know, I’m a woman, and we don’t act rationally when we’re mad. So we were playing Wii bowling and I just sat on the couch and threw the ball rather than actually getting up and trying. Then Frank realized I was mad and apologized after he realized I was mad that he wasn’t just happy I wanted to play anything, blah blah blah. Well, I was completely retarded and instead of accepting his apology, I told him that I didn’t want to play anything with him.

So I got up and went over to the stairs, at the bottom of which there was a bookcase waiting to go upstairs. So I grabbed the bookcase and started dragging it up the stairs, even though it was heavy-ish. I kept dragging it, waiting for him to come help me, but not asking him to, because as was previously stated, I was crazy angry that he didn’t appreciate my willingness to play any game at all with him. Of course, he was saying things like (lazily), “Do you want some help?” because I was acting like a total child. And because of that whole child thing, I was like, “No! I don’t want your help!” Because you’re a dumbstoopidhead!

So when I got to the middle landing of the stairs, I shifted the bookcase to get it in front of the top half of the stairs so I could drag it straight up. But as I moved it over, my left big toe didn’t get out of the way in time, and I dropped that bookcase right on top of my toe. Boy, that hurt like a son of a gun. So this was when Frank said, “Do you need to go sit in a corner until you calm down?” or something patronizing like that. And then I looked down at my toe. The whole top part of the toe was bloody. Which, of course, made it hurt even more. So I said, “No! I don’t need to sit in a corner, because I just smashed my toe!” And I walked gingerly up the stairs to get to the master bathroom, lifting my poor beleaguered toe up so as not to drip blood on the rented carpet (that method didn’t work).

I got to the bathroom and shut the door most of the way so Frank wouldn’t hear me crying, because if he heard me crying, how could I be angry with him later for not hearing me cry and coming to my rescue? And as I dripped blood all over the tile (and I mean ALL over the tile), I realized just how much my toe hurt. Like. The. Dickens. And I just started wailing. I pretty much had no control over that. I tried not to be loud, but that apparently didn’t work, because when I started yelping like a chihuahua, I heard Rowdi start barking. And she was wooo-wooo-woooing loudly and apparently running halfway up the stairs (the other half having been blocked by the bookcase) to alert Daddy that Timmy was in much pain in the well. Of course, we’re spraying Rowdi in the face with the water bottle any time she barks so we can break her of that nasty habit (nothing else works), so while I was yip-yapping in the bathroom, Frank was dutifully stopping the dog from barking, not hearing my pain.

I soaked many wads of toilet paper with blood until I realized my toe was never going to stop bleeding, and I was going to bleed out, right there on the loverly tile in the bathroom — what a way to go. At least Frank would be comforted by my term life insurance.

I hadn’t unpacked the band-aids yet, but I knew they were in an opened box right next to the bathroom door, so I crawled over and grabbed the band-aids and pre-soaked alcohol swabs. I cleaned my toe several times with the alcohol swabs, but the reality was I was going to die from a toe bleed which just would not stop. Oh, plus the alcohol just made me yelp louder, because holy crap, y’all. Thank goodness they weren’t peroxide swabs, or I would have died from the pain of cleaning my toe.

Here lies SarahK.
Died from sheer pain trying to clean her toe.
Survived by a husband who knew she was crazy.
And a wet-faced barking dog.

It was hard (still is) to determine just how bad my toe was/is doing. I thought I had gashes on the bottom of the toe, but apparently that was just alcohol pain that engulfed my entire toe. I had a profusely bleeding gash on the front of the toe, between the nail and the knuckle — that sucker was all purple and just wouldn’t stop gushing. There was the slash between the big toe and second toe that bled but stopped quickly, and I noticed today that the continuance of the slash goes diagonally down the top of my foot for almost two inches. And then there’s the nail. I probably won’t know for a few days whether I’m going to lose part of the nail. Nor will I know if I kinda cut off the tip of my toe or not. See, there’s a big ol’ skin bubble (yummy!) on the top of the toe, connected to the smashed-in nail, and every time I try to move the skin to see if the tip of the toe is just held on by skin or a little bit of toe meat (muscle, I guess?), the pain is too excruciating to bear, so I give up and put the band-aid back on.

I bandaged up my foot and stopped crying long enough that I could walk down and check the carpet for a blood trail (there is one), and I saw Rowdi lying on the middle landing behind the bookcase, looking utterly worried. I sat down and petted her for a minute and talked loudly (for Frank’s benefit) about how at least she tried to help me (I was now angry at the fact that Frank hadn’t put on his super-sonic hearing and discerned that I was sobbing and wailing in the bathroom upstairs). But then she started sniffing at my toe, and since I was afraid she might bite it off because pit bull mixes love the taste of human flesh, I pulled back from her and went upstairs. Frank said something, I don’t remember what, and I just yelled at him that my toe had been smashed to bits and he didn’t care if I died. Or something like that. Then I went back to the bathroom and decided I should get in the shower.

I heard Frank following me upstairs, so I locked the bathroom door. Again, I wanted to be able to unleash my full wrath on him as a ghost later (since I would shortly be dying). I gingerly pulled off all the bandages (there were four) and was just about to undress when I heard Frank outside the bathroom door saying something. “What?” said I in my pained yet still fuming voice. I still couldn’t hear what he was saying, so I opened the door and then turned around for the shower. I got neckid (believe me, if you’re picturing this, it wasn’t sexy, as I was covered in tears and half of my own blood, so make that little adjustment in your heads — better yet, don’t picture anything but my nasty toe) and got in the shower while big dumbstoopidhead started talking to me. I don’t remember any specifics except that I was crying and telling him how he should have listened to the bad barking dog to see if I was okay and how come he didn’t even bother to check on me knowing how upset I was and after I’d said I’d smashed my toe. He said something about figuring it was best to just let me simmah down before he tried to talk to me. And I was like, I’m not a dog who you just walk and run around in circles until she works out all her energy and aggression and why do you think I’m a dog and you’re such a butthead and go away go away go away and no Guitar Hero tonight or tomorrow! (I rethought my position on all of the above, and he’s actually playing GH right now.)

Pain does not make me more coherent, nor does it make my crazy dissipate. So then as I sat on the floor in the shower, waiting for the blood and the pain to stop, Frank brought in the big guns — Minerva. He started holding her by her front paws and making her dance for me, and then tap on the glass, then asked if I wanted Minerva to come in with me. Somewhere along in there, my toe stopped bleeding quite so copiously, and I finally got out of the shower. Of course, that was peppered throughout with, “Go away! Go away! You leave me alone!” though the intensity of my insistences quickly subsided to become vain repetitions of, “Go away. You go. Leave me alone…” It’s the dancing kitty thing — I’m a sucker for it!

Anyway, after I was out of the shower, we apologized to each other. He for not realizing he was being selfish before I went crazy (he tried to do this while I was in the shower, but I didn’t listen), and me for going crazy and smashing my toe in a fit of outrageous stupidity. I bandaged up my toe again, this time with only three bandages, and we got dressed for bed. My crazy had tired Frank out so much that he didn’t even want to read a comic book before going to sleep. I was fine for reading half a chapter of Harry Potter OTP, though.

My toe is not much better today. I’m down to two bandages, but the bleeding starts back up every time I take them off, and the nail/skin part still hurts too badly to try to figure out if the big piggy is just barely hanging on.

wRitErsbLock emailed me this morning, and in my reply to her, I said that I had smashed my toe to bits. “Why?” “Because I was mad at Frank.” Who, by the way, finished moving the bookcase into the reading room while I was in the shower. When I thanked him for doing that, he was like, “Of course I finished moving it. It’s not heavy.” RARR. Try dropping it on your toe and see if you feel the same way.

I slept several hours this afternoon in the chair in the reading room. I think all the blood loss and dehydration from crying really wiped out all of my energy. I still haven’t figured out how I’m going to ever wear a left shoe again.

I wish so much that the camera was within reach right now, but it’s in the car, and the car is in the cold outside.

This black cat decided we would be her family a couple of months before we left Florida. We named her Omen against my strongest wishes. We’re in the process of either changing her name or not changing her name. To Rogue. First, she’s completely black except for a teeny little white spot on her head. We were talking about it the other day, and Frank said it looks like she has a trauma patch like Rogue (X-Men). I begged. Oooh! Can we call her that? Please, pretty pleeeeease? And Frank likes it, and we also realized that it completely fits. Because she’s a thief. A big one. She will get up onto the couch while we’re eating, and she’ll sit perfectly still between us (this is when I know she’s about to strike, because if she doesn’t have intentions to be bad, she’s pawing at us or crawling all over us trying to get us to pet her). So she sits quietly, and suddenly, her paw (and claws) will come out, and she’ll swipe something right off one of our plates. She’s lightning fast, too. We can never keep from laughing when she does this, because she’s so intense about it.

I
WILL
HAS
FUD
NOWZ!

And then she sniffs the food she’s just stolen and decides she doesn’t want it. Frank likes to eat peanuts, the kind that come in a bag in their shells. So one day he was reaching into the bag to grab a peanut, and Rogue reached out and swiped a peanut from the bag. Once she sniffed it, she was bored and left him alone, but you know, just in case there was fish in there, she had to swipe the food from the bag. Cracks me up.

We always know when the cats are out of food, because Rogue is quite vocal in that situation. She does not stop calling and standing with her paws on the garage door (she knows where we keep the food) or getting right in our faces and yelling at us until she gets food in her belly. When you go get the food bowl to fill it, she follows you upstairs, then back to the garage, then back upstairs just to make sure the food gets safely into her belly.

So just now the kitties had no food. Rogue was very vocal about it, and we still hadn’t fed them. So she jumped up on the couch between us, and Frank’s dinner remnants from last night were still on his TV tray. A few garbanzo beans. His phone was also up there. Well, Rogue kept trying to steal garbanzo beans off the plate. I kept pulling her back and telling her no. She does not mind very well. Finally, she jumped down off the couch, and I thought she’d given up. But then she walked over to the other side of the TV tray, stood on her hind legs, held on to the top of the tray with one paw, and started reaching for items with the other paw. Just stuck those claws out and started grabbing in all directions. See, she couldn’t actually see the top of the tray, because her head didn’t reach all the way. Anyway, she got one claw into Frank’s phone and just started pulling. Pulled the phone onto the floor, and we lost it.

U NO GIVES ME FUD? I ETZ UR PHWN!

One other funny thing she does. She’ll come up onto the couch and walk around, and I’ll see that she’s leaving wet paw prints everywhere. This is when she’s just been to the water bowl. She mainly only drinks out of Rowdi’s bowl, which confuses Rowdi during feeding time, because Rogue will be standing there drinking, and Frank will put the bowl down with Rowdi’s food, and if Rogue doesn’t go for the food (she usually doesn’t, but she used to every time), Frank will give Rowdi the word that she can eat, and Rowdi will just stand there and stare at Rogue, like she doesn’t want to get in trouble for eating while a cat is standing there (isn’t she great about her food?). Anyway, the way she drinks is that she dunks both paws in the bowl, and I mean dunks. She doesn’t just paw the water a little like Minerva does to test for proper temperature. Rogue dunks her paws in, sometimes separately, sometimes together, and then *drinks* the water off of her paws. She doesn’t actually put her face down to the water. Ever.

She’s a hilarious cat. I’ll have to videotape her doing stupid stuff soon.

I really want my stinking laptop power cord. That sucker had better arrive today, because this whole sharing-a-computer thing does not work for me. I can’t blog!

I’m going to kick Frank off the computer later, though, because I have much to blog, peeps. Much to blog. Don’t go away.

After these messages… we’ll be riiiiight back.

Even though I made sure to bring only clean dishes with us (the dirty ones I just threw out — haha, just kidding, I washed them), I still didn’t like the fact that they’d all been in cardboard boxes, so I decided to rinse them all. Well. The big problem with that is that I didn’t have a volunteer to dry the dishes (ahem, Mr. J), so I was having to dry them all right after I rinsed each one, not having a dish drainer. I finally just bought one of those. But there are so many dishes, appliances, etc., that I can only do a few at a time or else I have to follow behind myself with a towel… So I just let them dry while I unpack boxes, which means it has taken a while. Anyway, long, boring story short, I’m almost there. And the best part is that I think I’ll actually have room for everything! I even have drawers for my aprons and towels and a whole entire drawer for entertaining / serving items. And that’s on top of having a very deep sink (yay!), awesome fixtures, beautiful cabinets made of actual wood, wood floors (or laminate, I don’t know, but they’re pretty), and awesome appliances. The dishwasher makes no noise, the microwave makes no noise, the range is great. The fridge is tiny, and there is no pantry, but there are enough great things about the kitchen to make up for those drawbacks.

I can’t wait to show y’all pictures. But first I have to find the beautiful countertops.

So was that one of the most ridiculous debates ever? And why are all those Frank Luntz people saying that Romney won? Yes, I do think my candidate Fred Thompson won, but seriously. I didn’t even have Romney in the top two. Am I just completely out of touch? Because Romney came across as all hair no substance. And what’s the deal with the focus group going on and on about how he “looked presidential”? Who gives a rat’s pinkytoe? And wow. Des Moines Register? Good job making sure that super-important “Republican” Alan Keyes was included. I’m sure his supporter was happy to see him.

That moderator! She looked asleep half the time, and the rest of the time she tried to keep herself awake by staying away from any important issues. In fact, I can’t remember anything she asked at this point. Was there even a debate today?

is not fun! Yesterday when I woke up, my laptop showed no outlet power. I fiddled with it like I always do, and it still showed no power. That giant transformery-looking box (I swear, Vaio laptop cords weigh more than the laptops themselves) was plugged into the part of the cord that plugs into the wall. The power strip light was on. Then Frank noticed that the LED on the transformery-looking box came on, flickered, then went out again. It’s so unlikely that it’s the LED. We plugged it into another outlet last night, and the same flicker thing happened before the light went out again. Ack. So I had to order a new laptop cord. I was expecting hundreds of dollars, since it’s a Vaio, and that’s just how Sony has been during my laptop experience with them. I actually found it online for $53! Frank was shocked at the high price, but because I’m jaded over Sony, I was shocked at the low price.

Anyway, until it arrives, we are sharing one laptop. Because y’all remember that the monitor for our desktop died, and until we replace that monitor, the desktop is just a server with no screen. Don’t worry, I still plan to blog. The itch always hits me hardest when I have to share a computer.

So what is it with Rachel Lucas and me and aggressive dogs and stupid computers? Did someone put a hex on us both?

Ay. I don’t know how long the cord will take to get here (it’s shipping FedEx ground), but if it’s not here within a week, I may have to look into laptop rental. Or I could just unpack all these boxes.

To my dear mother. I’ll send you a present in a year or two. :-D

Last Saturday (I think), we took Rowdi on her first long walk in our new neighborhood. We suited her up with the big doggy backpack, loaded down with the full water bottles she usually carries. As she had previously destroyed her Gentle Leader in a fit of adorable puppy rage (more on that later), she was wearing the choke chain. As soon as we were out of the house, a man called to us from the next street over and asked if we’d seen his white bulldog. No, but we’ll let you know if we do. He looked very worried and was calling for him over and over.

Anyway, we got her out into the neighborhood so we could explore, and we got to a common park area without incident (so a good five minutes, yeah). Then this little Corgi mix came plodding along, off-leash of course, and the two dogs met. I made sure Rowdi’s leash was completely slack so she wouldn’t sense tension from me, and we watched the dogs meet. They sniffed each other’s butts, no problems there. Then they sniffed each other’s mouths (this part always makes me nervous), and that went fine. Then the little Corgi, about half Rowdi’s size, decided he was bored and wanted to meet the people. He walked over toward us, and Rowdi, being the rude girl she is, hit him on the back with her paw. Not aggressively, just, “Hey, we’re not done! Come back and play with me!” Well, the boy dog didn’t like this and immediately turned around, showed his teeth, and started growling at Rowdi, which made her growl and show her teeth, and they were just about to either resolve things or scrap when I pulled Rowdi off and walked away, correcting her every time she tried to turn around. We’ve since realized that the boy dog just comes and goes as he pleases, as his owners leave their garage door cracked high enough for him to run in and out. He tends to roam and poo wherever he pleases, and the owners don’t pick up the poo. Nice neighbors. Rowdi has met him again, and the meeting went really well, and Frank fed both of them cookies. Hey, if you’re gonna let your dog roam the neighborhood and poo wherever he wants and not give a care what he does, we will ply your dog with venison jerky, and you will have no say in the matter. Hope he’s not on a special diet, losers!

Ok, so after her first not-so-good meeting with a neighborhood dog, we continued walking. We walked down another street, and the missing white bulldog came waddling toward us as fast as his gigantic girth would allow. I’m telling you, either this dog (Jack) was birthed by a blue whale, or he has never walked in his entire doggy life. So Jack came up to Rowdi (Frank had her leash now), and they greeted each other with the traditional doggy handshake. Then they sniffed faces, and then they just clashed. We stood there looking stupid for the one second it took us to realize that they were yelling and snapping and all that, and then Frank started pulling Rowdi off, and I went around to the back of Jack. I didn’t really think about it, I just knew that if dogs are fighting, you’re supposed to grab them both by the tail and pull quickly then let go before they decide to bite you, and if they don’t have tails, you grab their haunches and pull. Well, of course, Jack had no tail. And he was just going at Rowdi, biting at her chest (I guess her neck was too far off the ground for him to launch himself — we’re talking Michael Moore fat here). I was good and didn’t get angry with him, because if I had, he would have known, and that would have escalated the situation, from what I understand. So anyway, I grabbed Jack by the haunches and pulled hard to get him off of Rowdi. Then I grabbed several rolls of skin where his scruff would be if he were a dog and not a walrus. Oh, and no collar either. BAD owner! I held him close to the ground by his blubber. Meanwhile, Frank was pulling Rowdi away by her leash, and she was not happy. She was trying to whip around to watch Jack, and Frank was trying to get her to keep her back to him. She was not having it. Now, we did feel really bad that she was on a leash and he wasn’t. But we didn’t know what to do in that situation, because Rowdi off-leash is a runner. Also, there’s the whole thought that she could crush Jack’s overly large head with one bite. And at the time, we thought she was the aggressor. I don’t know why we thought this; we just assumed that since Rowdi had been cooped up in the car for a week and had gotten only short walks every day, she must have excess energy. We got both dogs to calm down, and Frank yelled down the street to Jack’s invisible owner, “WE FOUND YOUR DOG!” Then it was time for round two.

Jack was completely calm by now, so I let him go. He went right at Rowdi again. And he started trying to mount her and kept lunging at her chest. And Frank held on to Rowdi and held her back while I tried to get at Jack. Rowdi started making the most horrible noises, and it took a few seconds before we realized that her sound was a combo of yelping and growling. She was so scared! Of course, we now realize that we should have let Rowdi go so she could get away or protect herself. This fat cow was trying to dominate Rowdi, and we get now that he was the aggressive one. Anyway, I grabbed Jack’s haunches again and pulled him way back and then held him to the ground by his rolls of blubber — this time, I had his chest on the ground. Frank and Rowdi took off walking toward Jack’s house (he, not his human, obviously owns it), and Rowdi never looked back.

I made Jack sit, and when he calmed down completely, I petted him for a minute while I waited for his owner to get there. It did take a while for him to calm completely, because until Rowdi and Frank were around the next corner, he whined, watching Rowdi walk away. He gave the most pathetic whines, too. Short whines, stop to breathe, more short whines. While I crouched over him, I checked him, and he didn’t have any marks on him, so that confirmed for me that Rowdi was being attacked and just trying to get away. She would have left evidence if she’d wanted to hurt him.

His owner came out, and when he was close enough, I let Jack go so he could run to his owner. Jack ran right by him and onto the neighbor’s porch, then the other neighbor’s porch, then another, before his human finally picked him up, buckling beneath his massive body. I walked by, and the human apologized, saying he had turned his back for a second and the dog had gotten out. I wanted to respond with, “Give the tub of lard a walk now and then and maybe he won’t be so aggressive,” but I just said, “Ours does the same thing.” I didn’t have the heart to tell him that he needs to cowboy up and be the pack leader.

We’ve seen at least five off-leash dogs in our neighborhood now. Rowdi’s the only dog we’ve actually seen wearing a leash. Not something I expected from such a nice neighborhood.

There’s this stuff outside. It’s on the ground, on the rooftops, cars, fences, trees, our patio table and chairs, the street, the mountains in the distance… It’s a white substance that looks like a blanket, and it seems to be stuck there. I remember seeing something like it in Amarillo, but it’s been so long that I can’t remember. Anyone know what it is?

Ok, it’s still not put together, so I can’t show you pictures just yet, but when y’all see them you will all want to come visit the House of J. I’ll give you the brief scoop, though. It’s two stories — I’ve actually never lived in a two-story house. The closest I ever came was a townhouse apartment my mom rented, and I only lived there for two months; I’ve also lived in second-floor apartments. But never stairs in my house, rented or not. So y’all know that thing that everyone does at Christmas with the garland on the stairway banisters? Oh yeah, I’ve already thrown some up there just because I can — I still need to arrange it, put lights in it, and make it all pretty, but there is garland on a banister in our house! And I’ve actually never had a preference, one story or two, but I am loving the fact that if it’s too cold downstairs, I don’t have to turn the heat up — I just have to go upstairs.

Alright. Three bedrooms. The master isn’t any bigger than what we had before, but it’s set up better. There are windows everywhere and a big walk-in closet with shelves and everything. In the master there is a 3/4 bath with a nice double-sized walk-in shower. A LOT of cabinet space in the bathroom — a huge improvement over our Florida house — and several drawers. Oh, and on top of that, we have a linen closet floor to ceiling. The countertops and floor are tile. The second bedroom, which I think we’ll use as a reading and game room, has a little indented sitting area, a nice-sized walk-in, and a view. You open the blinds in there and are staring at the mountains. I tried to convince Frank to make that the master, but he insisted it is too small. But what a nice place to play chess or read a book. The third bedroom, the guest room, has a walk-in closet almost as big as the one in the master. Between the smaller bedrooms is a full bathroom with a floor-to-ceiling linen closet, cabinets, and drawers, and tile countertops and floor.

I have to finish this later (I haven’t even gotten to the downstairs yet), but can you already see why everyone is going to want bed and breakfast gift certificates for the House of J?

We saw Enchanted this afternoon. I loved it so much! I can see myself going and seeing it five times at the theater (as I did with Return to Me) and memorizing the entire movie. I’ll definitely watch the DVD over and over.

If you haven’t seen this movie yet, see it. Do as I say, peeps. It’s a wonderful movie. It’s clean, hilarious, romantic, dramatic, precious, etc. The cast is excellent. I can’t say enough good things about Amy Adams, and honestly, I’ve never seen the big deal about Patrick Dempsey until now. But after seeing Enchanted, I get it. He’s just precious. The music is great, the songs are lovely, and I’d see it multiple times for the scene in Central Park alone. Bravo! Bravo!

Finally! A great movie!

UPDATE: Pip?? I adore Pip! And I adore the animators that make him look like Peter Pettigrew when he imitates Nathaniel (played by the same actor who plays Pettigrew). I laughed so hard that I cried when he was trying to act out the bad situation for Prince Edward.

What did y’all think?

Frank has already started bugging me about flat panel televisions. Not exactly “bugging” me, but we had to go look through them at Wal-Mart last night, and every time he sees one, he has to look at it and tell me the price. Poor guy! He knows it’s low on our priority list, especially since [SPOILER ALERT!] the flat-screen rear projection TV survived the move. I’d prefer it myself, just because this rear projection thing is a beast that makes it impossible to get any kind of symmetry in the living room, and the new house actually has a specific place for a flat panel TV right above the fireplace — the cable connection is even on the wall above the fireplace. But even at temptingly low prices as they are now, those are far in our future.

Lemme tell you why, though I’m not sure I know, really.

We actually got to pick up the truck a day early, which helped us not go crazy on truck-packing day. The nice man at the U-Haul also gave us an extra 150 allowed miles, for which I was grateful, because I knew we would be going over our allotted mileage due to our diversion through Texas. That was Monday. We picked it up late in the afternoon and parked it in front of the house. This tipped off the neighbors that we were moving. We weren’t trying to hide it, but we’d been so busy that we just hadn’t been able to get around and tell the two neighbors we know (well, we know four, but the third had been out of town for a while and was still out of town, and the fourth is a snowbird and wasn’t yet in town) that we had decided to just go ahead and move.

So then Tuesday, the day the movers were coming, I made sure that all the boxes and bins in the house that were packed were stacked nicely in the den, and Frank broke down our bed (the other one was already broken down). We still had a long way to go to leave the house, but it just looked like we were so close. Close to insanity maybe. Close to leaving? Not so much.

Ok, the movers arrived and said that my packing and organization were the best they’d ever seen, so we would be easy. I told them to wait until they saw the storage rooms (of which I am so proud that I wish I’d taken pictures). So while they loaded the truck, I continued packing and Frank did other things like make sure our house here was all lined up, make sure everything was in order for the drive, talk to our realtor, run errands, all that. In the days leading up (and maybe even the day the movers arrived), I had also baked two trays of brownies and three loaves of bread, figuring I would bake the last loaf of bread at my mom’s house that weekend. I still hadn’t gone through any of our clothes to decide what went in suitcases and what went in spacebags. Frank packed the shoes in the gun safe (they are still sitting in the safe now!) with the shotgun and all but three of our handguns (two for me, one for Frank for the road trip). We actually almost forgot to have them load the safe onto the truck, because it was in a closet, and I couldn’t see it when I walked through the room, so of course I didn’t think of it until later.

The movers were appalled that we had only six moving blankets. Hey, I’ve never even used them before, so I didn’t know how many you needed. He said that he always tells his wife, who sets the appointments, to make sure everyone has two to three dozen blankets for this purpose. She didn’t tell me, but I suppose I should have researched it myself and asked y’all. Y’all would have known.

Anyway, we got to the storage rooms, and I immediately hit part of the storage facility’s gate with the giant truck, because I forgot to make a wide turn. Don’t worry, I was only going about five miles per hour, and I didn’t hit the actual gate, just the other end that the gate closes with, whatever that thing is. The truck was fine, and we’ll get to the gate thing later. Oh, also? I never again forgot to make a wide turn.

So we started at the storage rooms, and Frank was going to get more blankets, but they were so close to finished that we figured he wouldn’t get back from his hour-long round trip until they were done. Oh well, it’s only stuff. So Frank came to the storage facility and didn’t hear me when I mentioned that I had hit the gate. They loaded the storage room of boxes onto the truck first. Before they were even finished with those, I knew: there would not be enough room for all of our stuff. Frank and I went right to the storage room of furniture and started picking out what we wanted to keep and what we would have to leave.

The first words out of my mouth were, “We don’t need the cedar chest. The only reason I kept it was because it’s nice on the inside and could be repainted on the outside.” Frank was surprised until I told him that the X had given it to me for Christmas one year, so REALLY. I have no attachments to this thing. But I did feel bad about throwing it out, because I figured someone could use it, so we had the movers pack it on the truck so we could try to give it away. The first casualty of our move was our little black TV stand, which we had used as a stand for our electronics and a DVD holder. No biggie. Also, the two-drawer file cabinet was right out. The futon also had to go; this was the only piece of furniture that gave me a twinge, because I had sentimental attachments to it — Scott & Candace had given it to me. Of course, Scott has asked a number of times why I still have “that thing,” so I don’t think he’ll be offended. The mattress died in Amarillo anyway, because it was in the room with the swamp cooler, so it was just the frame. We were also fine with getting rid of the coffee and end tables. We need new ones as it is, and I don’t hate them, but I’m not in love with them either. The movers also put those on the truck so we could give them away. We had worries about the 31-inch TV and the 19-inch TV, too, but those got packed into the truck. The hanging punching bag made it onto the truck, but I had a feeling that would be departing us soon.

We tossed the TV stand and the file cabinet in the dumpster at the storage place. The futon, which was pretty beat up, was too big for the dumpster, however, so we had to stick that back in the storage room until Frank could come back with tools and take it apart completely.

I looked in the back of the truck before they closed the doors, and I knew that we had room for about ten more boxes. Well, roughly estimating, I figured we still had twenty boxes of unpacked things at home, PLUS the clothes. And that’s about the time I realized that we had a potential mess on our hands and were absolutely not getting out of town Wednesday morning. But we could surely make it out by afternoon. Right?

At some point during the storage run, I had to pee really badly. Perfect opportunity to check out the gate and tell the owner I had hit it. I peed first, because I knew it might take awhile (the gate thing, not the peeing), and then I told the manager that oh, by the way, I hit part of the gate when I came in. His eyes went huge, and we went outside to check it out together. It was bent out of place. Lurvely! To my great relief, he was able to bend it back into place, and the gate still closed easily, so no harm done, I apologized profusely, and he told me it was fine and not to worry about it.

After storage, we went home and continued packing. And packing. I didn’t even get to the sorting of the clothes that day. We finally gave up around 11 and went to sleep. Still thinking it was possible to get out of town by 1 Wednesday but also knowing that was most likely not going to happen. We slept on the floor, and I had a really hard time getting to sleep. Too much to do, too little cushion for my thighs. Eventually I did count sheep. I’m pretty sure one of them even kicked me in the head.

I’ve missed my blog, I’ve missed my awesome readers, I’ve missed blogging, I’ve missed other blogs, other bloggers, etc., etc. Yeah, I’m pretty sure I could never give this up.

Y’all, I have soooo much to blog about! I’m making myself work around the house, unpacking, organizing, settling in, and in a little bit I’ll have to walk the dog. But I’m allowing myself short breaks to catch up on blogging. Because yo. I haven’t been around for a couple of weeks! That hurts.

I’m going to make a list of what I want to blog about right here for y’all to see. I usually keep this private, because y’all know how terrible I am at keeping my blogging promises, but maybe if I tell y’all, I’ll feel obligated. And I need to feel obligated, because I have lots of things to tell you, and you shouldn’t miss 95% of them. Ok, here’s the list off the top of my head (I’m sure I will add to it):

• Our delay in leaving Florida.
• Did all of our stuff make it to Idaho? I’m sure you know the answer, but maybe not *how* stuff did or didn’t make it to Idaho.
• Day 1 of travel: Melbourne to… not so far from Melbourne.
• Day 2 of travel: We still didn’t make it out of Florida and started having issues with the truck. That’s also the day Rowdi surreptitiously destroyed a seatbelt.
• Day 3 of travel: We finally got out of Florida, and our reward was having to drive through Alabama, Mississippi, and Louisiana. That’s the night I had a pure meltdown!
• Day 4 of travel: Louisiana to Oklahoma. I hate the Indian Nation Turnpike with a passion.
• Day 5 of travel: Oklahoma to Kansas. That’s the day I locked the keys in the U-Haul!
• Day 6 of travel: Kansas, Colorado, and Nebraska.
• Day 7 of travel: Wyoming. I didn’t think I’d ever see a more beautiful drive.
• Until Day 8 of travel when we drove through Utah and finally arrived in Idaho.
• Our house. Y’all, I will go on and on about this house. It has very few drawbacks.
• Our view!
• Congregation we visited yesterday.
• My in-laws, who are awesome.
• Dining experience at the Cheesecake Factory (what? I can’t get to the stove!).
• Aggressive off-leash dogs in our neighborhood. And this is a nice neighborhood!
• Have I mentioned there are mountains here?

Don’t worry, don’t go away. Blogging recommences in earnest… now!

If you picked Friday in the mm poll, you win high praise! Hooray for you!

We arrived yesterday around 3 p.m. The movers are here moving our stuff in, and after that we’re gonna return the truck and then walk the dog. It’s in the thirties here, I’m guessing. I can’t find my coat or my gloves. My fingers are practically frozen, because the doors are open while the furniture comes inside. And I have no complaints.

The house is awesome. It’s 600 square feet bigger than our Florida house. The neighborhood is adorable. And from the den and the gameroom, we have a spectacular view of the mountains! The gameroom is upstairs, so you walk in there in the morning and see majestic sights everywhere! I can’t wait to tell y’all all about it and show you lots of pictures. Our lease is nine months, but I told Frank I’m perfectly fine staying here longer.

More later. After we walk the dog and go see Frank’s grama, I’ll try to give you a good long update.

BTW, we’ll be unpacking for months.