Come Out to Play?

It's really too pretty outside to sit around in my stuffy office sending out resumes...is there anyone out there that can come out & play today? Pleeeeeeeease? I'll owe you a cup of coffee...or an ice cream sundae...or something else yummy-like. Oh, and I'll be your best friend. C'mon, coffee AND a best friend? That's a heck of a deal...

Is Someone Trying to Tell Us Something?

In the last 8 months, since we bought the house:

-Our house is broken into & tools stolen
-DPS announces a sex offender lives at our address
-Our house is vandalized
-Our gas meter is REMOVED
-The City harasses us about supposed building code violations (which we are not violating)
-The dogs (esp. Dynnah) refuse to stay in the backyard, and D almost gets maced by an APD officer
-Max takes a trip to the ER with a 103-106 fever
-Clint loses his job
-Clint gets multiple expensive tickets
-Lee County screws us over
-Flea infestation '08
-Alex loses her job

Alright...what next? C'mon, then...what else you got? Because I've decided that I'm done worrying & feeling sorry for us...We've got only opportunities, friends. And you know what else has happened since we moved in? This:

-DPS printed a retraction
-We met several neighbors who welcomed us to the neighborhood
-Clint built a beautiful fence
-Max is healthy and happy and growing and wonderful and beautiful and smart...
-We got a tax return that paid our bills while Clint was out of work
-We have an amazing support group of friends, family, church family, and a small group that lend us kind words, and support, and money, and any number of things
-Trish's step-dad refurbished a lawn mower for us for free
-Clint gets a new job with major opportunities to do something he is interested in...and good at
-Clint is chosen to submit artwork for a Stations of the Cross exhibit at our church, and also possibly for printing to place in a hotel (and possibly some extra $$)
-Clint and Max are spending some very special boy time together
-I am exploring some great opportunities I wouldn't have otherwise looked at
-I am getting severance and we will get our portion of the Economic stimulus that will, once again, pay the bills

It is often easy to lose sight of, in the midst of all the drama, but we are very, very blessed.

Dreaming

I'm thinking that I could really go for a cupcake right now. Or a slice of cake. Or any number of delightful desserts that I don't keep in the house for this very reason. Anyone feel like bringing me a cupcake? Anyone?


Hello?

A Boy and His Gun

So quite unfortunately, we have fleas in our house...I'm not sure if these are from our escape-artist dogs who all-too-often have spent a night indoors, or hold-overs from the previous residents. But they are certainly ferocious and seem to find my feet rather scrumptious. Therefore, we are tearing all the area rugs we have been using as carpeting out of the house (yes, you read that right-the house is currently being 'renovated' which is a laughingly positive euphemism for 'complete wreck.') And you know what? Area rugs are much easier to dispose of if your husband has not STAPLE GUNNED THEM TO THE FLOOR.

So tired...

Back from San Francisco and have some great stuff...but I have to find the energy to plug my camera in, first. Pathetic, I know.

A Very Special Kind of Neurotic

Today, on my way home from work and picking Max up, I completely convinced myself that Clint was dead. That I would come home to his car in the driveway when he should be at work, and rush in to find him still in bed, dead. This after he did not answer his phone or return a single call or text message today. He had to be dead, right? Because if he knew he left his phone at home, he would have come home at lunch and gotten it...and then called me back. I pictured what he would look like, and the phone calls I would have to make and I made myself sick to my stomach with dread and horror. And then found that his car was, in fact, not in the driveway. Clint was nowhere to be seen. And his phone? That was lying in our bed, covered by a pile of clothes, and displaying 15 missed calls. I think only 11 of them were from me...

In my defense, if you knew your wife was this particular kind of nuts, wouldn't YOU call her from work to tell her you left your phone at home so she didn't work herself into an utter panic attack because she hadn't heard from you in the last 8 hours? I thought so.

Thinking...

That my new-found addiction to sliced pepperoni is probably not helping any weight-loss efforts...Gross, I know. But I think they put crack in these things...