Thursday, August 27, 2015

Filling All My Dreams

Absolutely no artwork up anywhere, but here are a few shots around the loft and of the new ceiling fans Pup installed.

I'll be tweaking forever from now on. It's always fun searching for stuff. I have a few ideas for the living room walls.

No more nipple lights. Anyone that has seen newer construction knows what I'm talking about. Bam! Gone!
Our bedroom. We're sleeping on a queen sized bed. It's cozy!
Loft bunk beds. 
That futon turns into a double bed. 
View from top of stairs.
Guest room. When Bella and Spud are here it's their room. 
Living Room - Pup's bachelor couch reestablished 

Monday, August 24, 2015

What Are You Waiting For?

With the excitement of buying the cabin, we knew we wanted a boat. A few family members and friends thought we could wait until next year because the season is so old, but we were hellbent to get one. Now. So we did.

A pontoon. Super cute. Super huge. Super learning curve!

Our cabin is on 3800 acres of lakes. A huge chain of lakes. We're located at the bottom of the chain in a rather marshy spot. Lots of otters, Lots of mushy ick just waiting to get stuck in your outboard. Which happened to us repeatedly.

So endlessly we're checking to see if the engine is peeing. "Is it peeing?" Do you see it peeing?"

We had Mikey with us to help us with the launching, starting, and general learnage of our huge, lovely boat (tentatively named "Flipper." Pup isn't all in on that name. I am.).

It was over 90 degrees and the dewpoints were in the 70s. Yeah, Minnesota/Wisconsin can get hella hot. People from other parts of the country find that hard to believe. But we don't. We were all sweating like whores in church. Oh wait, that's a horrible metaphor. But we was sweatin'. Like everythang. And I sweat the most. Always have. There's just something about a high dewpoint that makes me feel like my skin cannot breath. I'm just damp and sweatin' and miserable.

So we loaded up the boat with all of us, Pup, me, Lorenzo, Bella, Spud, Lorenzo's friend Rey (who was hungover as hell, poor sweet girl).

We tried to stay in what Larry (former owner) called the "driveway." The place in the marsh where you can see other boats have gone over and over. So there's a path of sorts right through all the wild rice and stuff.

But we got off course and mushed up the motor.

Finally we're out in the great expanse of lakes and Mikey's giving us updates.

"She's not peeing."

"She's only peeing a little."

So we'd stop, poke the peehole with a stick and start off again.

Flipper stops peeing entirely.

We're wondering what to do. So Mikey waves down a couple of young men on the shore.

"We have some trouble. Could you tow us to the boat launch? We'd pay for your trouble!"

The boys say sure!

We putt over to their dock. We're discussing what and where and how when a head suddenly appears from above us on the deck. A neat, athletic, head.

"What's the trouble?" He asks.

We explain.

Before you could think about all those whores sweating in church, he bounds down to the dock and leaps onto our boat. A 5'4" bundle of Guido. All muscles, colorful tanktop, athlesure pants, and white Addidas. An ass I could not take my eyes off of. Seriously! We all thought so!

He took charge. Not peeing? Simple! Suck on that thang!

"Boy!" he hollered, "suck on that for these guys."

I laughed to myself thinking, "That's never going to happen . . . "

But it did. His kid sucked on the intake (or whatever the hell it is) and cleared out the muck. Beyond the call. What the hell? How wonderful are these guys?

The athletic, hot, Guido-dad ran down the length of Flipper and made a three foot leap from our boat to the dock. A collective sigh went up from the female portion of the observants (well, maybe it was only me). I think the guys were a bit impressed as well. They would lie if asked wouldn't they?


We putted home happy and peeing like crazy.

As we entered the long driveway leading to our dock we saw people checking us out. Mikey said, "Hi! These guys are new to the lake." And the people replied, "Oh! Larry's people!"

Nice to know we're home. I rather like being "Larry's People."

Saturday, August 22, 2015


This is weekend four at Camp George.
Yes, his head is that large. And hard.

I'm trying out this name for our place. We're liking Camp George so far.

I now have about 1300 square feet of new place filled with what we need. It's a bit shocking to me that so much of what is here at the cabin was found in my house at home. Yes, I am most certainly a hoarder. I'm not ashamed. Take off those judging sunglasses! You know you'd love to be me.  ;)


And then there were the weeks of Craigslist chasing I did. That was rather fun. And exhausting. Craigslist people are crazy. Nuff said about that. And I did lots and lots of thrifting. Thrifting is cool because you do not know what's around the corner until you find it.

Like this spot in the cabin living room.
A $20 leather chair from Craigslist. I think the lovely lady I bought this from just wanted this monster out of her basement. Enter Pup with his freakishly strong self. She kept repeating over and over, "He's so strong!" I know! Freakishly! The table I found at Goodwill for $5. Yeah! I'm serious as a pimple. $5!! The leather ottoman is from a friend's estate sale and there's a much cooler lamp on the table now, but this lamp has found a new home in the cabin loft. Rotate and spin.

Speaking of lamps . . .
I know. An obsession from my past. But I could not resist when I saw this last week. He'll watch over us in the cabin loft!

And you know we need watching.

Wednesday, August 19, 2015

We Bought a Zoo

Hey! Long time no annoy!


Rectify people - rectify.


. . . we bought a cabin
The lake is at the top of the photo.

I grew up with a cabin. From around sixth grade or so my family had a cabin on a smallish lake in Wisconsin. They owned it until my youngest daughter was around 18 months or so. Just when we were starting to go back up there! You know, you get to a certain age in your 20s and all that is important to you are your friends, your boyfriend, and what parties you are either throwing or going to.

But then you get married and you want to start hanging around your parents again especially up at the cabin. Sad dad!

But, I did grow up with a cabin. I remember wearing your swimsuit all day. Waterskiing all day. Boating all day. Putting a sweatshirt over your shorts at night. Tangly, lake hair. Playing "Oh Shit" and Cribbage at the large kitchen table at night. Watching my momma drink Gimlets and laughing.

Pup and I wanted that.

Pup grew up much differently than I. He was a city boy. I was a suburb girl until halfway through high school, then my family moved to the cities. But he was city through and through. He jumped fences at golf courses and played. I knew how to dock a large, wooden boat that had a cabin cockpit.

He had a paper route. I babysat. He walked to school a few blocks. I took a school bus. He played baseball in a baseball field. I played baseball in the street. Where the cars dare not drive.

So my city boy now has a cabin.

The city boy and the suburb girl have had a few growing pains regarding the cabin.

We have friends that live near our cabin. They live on a lake all year round. Deb-oh-rah and Mikey have been invaluable to us; teaching us lake life. The part of lake life my parents took care of and I had no idea.

Last week Pup made a run to town to get a bunch of "cabin" crap. A large list of crap. He hit some roadblocks and gave Mikey a call. Mikey showed up and helped Pup troubleshoot a million lake home problems.

Mikey has become a superhero in our house let me tell you.

So I now have "lake" clothes in a closet at the cabin. I have two kitchens. I get to decorate another place in an ironic fashion.

I forget to bring things to the cabin. I forget to bring things home. I love it.

Saturday, June 13, 2015


I've been in one. Maybe for 15 years! It's not a bad mood, yet it's not sugary, sweet goodness if you get me. I know you get me.

I'm in love with living and wish that along with that I'd GET what is and what cannot be. I'm annoyed half of the day and ecstatic the other half. I see things with great clarity, yet cannot put into words clearly what I need to say.


I must be a woman.

Snarky and snarked upon. Obsessed and obsessive.

Oh to say what I mean and mean what I say - without second guessing myself! My poor husband! He's the one that hears the aftermath. I love him! Just yesterday as we were getting ready for a family party, he had offered to vacuum if I'd go with him for pedicures. Yes, that man adores getting peds! And it was wonderful. Relaxing. And now I have cute feet. Plus +

His vacuuming left something to be desired. And even though my house never looks perfect, all I saw were the flaws when he was finished. Woe is me! I am a snark-monster. Keep working on that girl! I am waiting for this revelation that comes with age, but it's not happening! Ha and ha! I am laughing here because I have such clarity after the fact. And blurt in the moment.

Blurting just may be the thing that murders me in the end. I'll blurt to the wrong person in traffic or on the phone or at the grocery store and BAM! You'll read about me in the newspapers. A random act of violence. Only me and the killer will know the truth.

What a rambling going on here! We have a few things happening as everyone does at times and we've gotten good news, waiting for good news, and longing for the good news.

Meanwhile, this happened not long ago -
My beautiful daughter married her much-loved-by-all-who-meets-him man. In Mexico. On the beach. It was perfection and maybe the best time we've had since my first daughter got married six years ago. Now I have two sons along with two daughters.

Congratulations Lorenzo and Randalian!

Monday, March 2, 2015

New Uniform

Spring uniform 2015.

In my head anyway! How LOVELY is this?

Photo from the February 2015 issue of InStyle magazine.

Friday, February 27, 2015

I Love Fashion

You wouldn't know it just by looking at me. Although if you were a fashion-person you might.

On my every day I am fond of a uniform. I work a few days with Pup at our business and, on most days, see just a few people. So my winter uniform has been leggings, a v-neck sweater in a no-color color, boots. A nice watch. A very good bag. A pair of the loveliest earrings that Pup got me for Christmas a few years ago and a thin, gold, lariat necklace. Boom. Done. Every day the same. Looks nice, is comfortable while I'm wrestling with numbers, and suits my chunky-monkey ways these days.

But I love fashion.

I have a designer's eye and somehow have a sense of things that are on the horizon to be the next thing and a sense of things that are going to be past their time. This designer's eye is colored with my personal tastes and views naturally, but there it is.

Like scarves! I love long scarves. Always have. I've worn them for a million years. Suddenly, every time I put one on with an outfit, off it goes. It feels fussy. It feels yesterday. I don't wear it. The scarves in my dressing nook (definitely not a room) hang on their Ikea organizer very sad and underutilized.

And my large, black-framed glasses. I hunted down this look well over four years ago. I still love them but am worried (because of this love) they are getting a tad stale.

At times I miss my corporate job where getting dressed every day was an event. I was seen and it was important and it was fun. Once a manager from a distant department that I casually knew asked me to shop with her and help her with mixing and matching. What fun that was!

I shine in the shop-your-closet event. Mixing and matching and discovering nuances in my and other closets is the most fun.

I worked years ago for a friend at the University of Minnesota. After a few months she asked me to look around the department and said, "Do you see the influence you're had around here?" She saw how a few ideas of mine had found more lives. I remember feeling happy about that!

As I love saying, "I may not be everything, but I sure am something!"

Spring is coming and here is what I'm looking forward to:

Tuesday, February 17, 2015

Story from the Z Files

Z means nothing. I'm just not that clever this morning! I was attempting to find a connection between X Files and Z files which could be hard because I'm too lazy to look anything up on the X Files and I never saw one episode. Wha?

Hopefully the story is more entertaining than that sentence.  :)

Yours Truly on phone with friend. We're having a little kiki. I'm hesitating saying my next sentence that is hilariously rolling around in my head. About a particular situation.

Friend says, "If you're worried about going to hell for saying anything, know that you will not be alone."

We FELL out laughing. I am so very easily amused.

Tuesday, February 10, 2015

Today Was Made for Frosting

Unexpected day with no agenda. Normally a go-to-The-Firm-day, but Pup said a power supply died and we had inexplicably bought computers that have special-order parts so I have no computer at The Firm.

I'm not mad about it.

I have a list in front of me with things that seem to never get done during the week. We'll see how I do today!

It's sleeting outside.

The sun was out yesterday. When it is out we all find happiness simply looking out windows. Spud was here for a short bit yesterday (he was here for a few hours, but slept most of it!) and he and I spent a chunk of time in his room where we lifted the blind so he could look outside and enjoy looking at everything with a bright light. He loves looking out windows! I know he doesn't really understand why we are stuck in the house for the most part.

With that in mind Bella and I took him to the Como Park Conservatory on Sunday. It's a great place to poke about and smell humid air, look at beautiful flowers, listen to water features, and just get away from all the brown and gloomy that is outside right now.

So fun going with Bella and Spud.
Those are little skulls on his t-shirt. Swoon!
That was a remember-it-forever kind of day.

Smooches my hooches.

Monday, February 2, 2015

Sunday, February 1, 2015

The End of an Era - Stolen from Kirky

My yapping sure ended abruptly! I'll have to add a couple of penance-posts because of my lack.

I'm not sure what the heck is going on with me, but I have the start of what just may be, perhaps, my fourth cold in as many months. Gah and ahhh!

But that's not the reasons for my disappearment.

Pup has sold the house that his parents owned since 1960 or so. 55 years! Pup lived in that house only as a child growing up. I'd have to sit and do the math for the many places I lived in as a child.

Pup and I nearly bought it as investment property, but in the end we sold it to a client of ours. He's a money guy and real estate is his thing. He owns many properties around the Twin Cities and either rents the properties or flips. This house he's going to flip.

He works with partners and sent a couple of them out to inspect the house and the offer was proffered, bartered, and accepted. His thing is the money - not the design of the place. His partners evaluate the space, come up with a budget for the updating, and Dan then does his math to discern if this is a win-situation or a skip-it situation.

I love Client-Dan. He and I have had a couple of meetings in my tiny office and I can tell he and his wife would be fun to hang with. Talented, aggressive, fun-loving, and smart as HELL! I get a mind-boner from smart people.

Client-Dan has never even laid eyes on the house. Isn't that crazy?

I don't know his process exactly, but since this is a client I'm thinking he will let me in over there to document a bit for Pup. I'll be curious to see what they'll be doing to modernize the space. It's a modest rambler, but has great bones. Hardwood throughout, potentially three-plus bedrooms, basement has high ceilings, and several years ago all the mechanics were updated - roof, furnace, windows, siding. It will be lovely when complete!

Pup has seven brothers and sisters so there was a good-sized crowd yesterday to empty the house. We had a HUGE dumpster in the driveway, a plan for a local charity to pick up donatable stuff, and a Uhaul to move the one brother that was still living in the house. Pup being the coordinator for all of this. My Pup is the youngest boy, but a rock with this type of stuff. And it's tax season people!

We had moved Momma Betty out of the house two years ago into a lovely apartment in a senior living complex. She kinda went kickin' and screamin' as normal, but now rather loves her new home in her same neighborhood. And even though she is the most introverted introvert I've met she has made a couple of friends and she spends a portion of each day kikiing like the senior-set sometimes likes to do.

Pup and I had toured through the house a week or so ago and had thought it would take two days to empty because 55 years! That's a lot of stuff.

We had the lion's share completed by noon! Teamwork really does make the dream work.

It was an emotional day for several of of the family. It was very emotional for Pup.

He and I took the family kitchen table. A very very old (I couldn't make out any markings on the fly, but will check again), solid, round, oak, pedestal table that has four chairs from the 80s with it. Perfect! We're buying a cabin after tax season is over and we thought it would be perfect to sit at his family table playing games like he did as a child and young adult.

I packed up and cleared out all the kitchen cupboards. As I was working I was thinking about Momma in that kitchen doing her kitcheny thing and wondering what thoughts she had as a momma for her children. What thoughts did she have for herself? What were her passions and how did she want to change the world.

We might not think it, but I believe all of us want to change the world in our way. We might not even know that's what we're thinking, but our scent is left with everything we do.

As I worked I thought about what my children would think of me in a similar scenario. Would they shake their heads at choices I had obviously made? What scent would I leave?

I'm hoping cinnamon. That's a lovely scent and has the promise of a baked good.

How you superbowling?

Wednesday, January 28, 2015

Sleeping with the Television On

That's never a good thing. I fall asleep every night with the television on. Lately while watching Hot Bench, my new obsession. These three judges are so adorable! Especially when one of the judges says, "We've reached our decision," with her Brooklyn (I think?) accent.

It's Pup's busy time of year. Now that we own our own biz and I'm involved a bit I'll be working more in a few weeks or so (I'm there at the office a few days a week during the day), but right now Pup is the talent and works longer hours. He loves what he does and frankly doesn't mind having to work long hours during the dark and cold winter. He always says he has the best job ever. All summer long with an easier schedule and time to relax and have fun.

But right now he's very busy. Meetings with clients, pre-work, doing the groundwork for future weeks of work.

So I'm a bit of a winter-widow.

Which doesn't bother me at all! Occasionally I'll head out to hang out, but mostly I'm home doing this or that. Taking a bath. Laundry.

My favorite thing to do around 8 or 8:30 is head upstairs to our loft with a cup of sleepy tea, putz around doing things up there, put on my jammies, get ready for bed, then hop in it with magazines, a book (that I might read for five minutes),  and a few episodes of Hot Bench or Bewitched (still!).

Pup gets home around 8:30 so he comes and hangs out for a few and then heads down to The Big Room to relax for a bit.

By 9 or 9:30 I'm sleepy. During the winter months I have a hard time staying awake by 9 or so. It's been dark for hours by this point and cozy is all I want to be.

What an exciting time I'm having! Heh!

What a rambling post here.

Oh yeah . . . sleeping with the television . . . not good. Pup comes to bed probably around 11 or so and turns the damn thing off for us luckily.

We do live in an interesting part of the country. As I've said, it's very very dark around this time of the year, yet in the summer months it's light outside until nearly 10:00 p.m! Those months it is very difficult to get to bed! Who wants to go to bed when it is light outside still!

This is why we are all so crazy flexible and congenial. Hehehe!

How you sleepin'?

Tuesday, January 27, 2015

Why Do We Believe Men Have No Self-Control?

Blogger Veronica Partridge 

For the past several months, I have been having a conviction weighing heavy on my heart. I tried ignoring it for as long as I could until one day a conversation came up amongst myself and a few others (both men and women). The conversation was about leggings and how when women wear them it creates a stronger attraction for a man to look at a woman’s body and may cause them to think lustful thoughts. God really changed my heart in the midst of that conversation and instead of ignoring my convictions, I figured it was time I start listening to them and take action. 

 I went home later that day and shared the convictions I was having with my husband. Was it possible my wearing leggings could cause a man, other than my husband, to think lustfully about my body? I asked my husband his thoughts on the matter when he got home. I appreciated his honesty when he told me, “yeah, when I walk into a place and there are women wearing yoga pants everywhere, it’s hard to not look. I try not to, but it’s not easy.” 

 I instantly felt conviction come over me even stronger. Not that I wasn’t feeling it earlier, or else I wouldn’t have thought twice about the conversation, but after talking to Dale, it hit me a lot harder. If it is difficult for my husband who loves, honors, and respects me to keep his eyes focused ahead, then how much more difficult could it be for a man that may not have the same self-control? Sure, if a man wants to look, they are going to look, but why entice them? Is it possible that the thin, form-fitting yoga pants or leggings could make a married (or single) man look at a woman in a way he should only look at his wife? 

 And at that moment, I made a personal vow to myself and to my husband. I will no longer wear thin, form-fitting yoga pants or leggings in public. The only time I feel (for myself) it is acceptable to wear them, is if I am in the comfort of my own home or if I am wearing a shirt long enough to cover my rear end. I also want to set the best example of how to dress for my daughter. I want her to know, her value is not in the way her body looks or how she dresses, but in the character and personality God has given her. I have been following the vow I made to myself for the past couple of weeks now and though it may be difficult to find an outfit at times, my conscience is clear and I feel I am honoring God and my husband in the way I dress.


This was making the rounds last week.

Initially I just snorted and thought to myself, "Must be a slow news day."

The more it tumbled around in my brain, the more indignant I became.

I realize this is only one blogger and not the universal thought, yet the fact that it received so much press bothered me.

The message that is screaming at me from all of this is Men Can't Be Held Accountable.

How insulting and frankly, sexist is that thinking? I mean, if a woman is running around in leggings with a shapely backside she is inciting in the heart of men lust, ungodly thoughts, and makes him lose the ability to govern his own thoughts. Because men are just that base, uncontrollable, and childlike.

Why just the backside then? Maybe we should cover our legs at all times as well? A shapely leg can get some men thinking racy thoughts. Or breasts. Just the curve of a breast through a t-shirt or sweater could change a man's day yes? Or feet. A pretty foot could just about make a man or two breathe a little heavier.

What bullshit.

Or reverse this thinking hmm? Women have thoughts as well when they see an attractive man out and about. Whether it's his backside or the curve of his back into his pants or maybe a glimpse of nice abs.

Just when you could believe we are making strides towards a new think crap like this makes the news and I realize that all of that is just illusion.

Watch your men all of you women out there. He just can't control himself and who knows what he'll do when left to his own devices!

grr and gah

Monday, January 26, 2015

Oh oh!

Nearly forgot! Sheesh.

I just cleaned out my refrigerator and used up a bunch of vegetables before they went bad. For once! Made myself some damn good veggie soup; cabbage, carrots, celery, table onions. Simmered until soft, added some organic chicken bouillon. I just had a bowl. Mmmm nummy nummy nummy as Spud and I sing every day he's here.

Vegetables really are good. It's the prep that bugs me, yet just now when I was prepping and listening to the radio (local station The Current is celebrating its 10th year - wow!) I realized just how calming and rather enjoyable prepping veggies actually is.

Numm and yumm.

No photo, of course. Apologies for the repeat (or maybe not?), but Lorenzo has been known to wonder aloud, "Why does everyone feel the compulsion to share photos of their food?"

We just do! It is rather idiotic.

Instead, here's a photo of something lovely.
Because what is better than a baby eating an orange?

Sunday, January 25, 2015

Glensheen Mansion

I haven't toured this place since the 80s, but tPretty reminded me with a post on her blog of a morning room I saw all those years ago that has stuck with me all this time.

The Glensheen Mansion is the most beautiful place. Placed on the challenging shores of Lake Superior it is, in my mind, a little bit of Minnesota's Downton Abbey.

My wasband and I honeymooned in Duluth, Minnesota in 1981 and one of the things we did was tour the Glensheen Mansion. I can only say, gorgeous.

The story of how it was built and the details is fascinating by itself, but then add a mysterious murder and stories of greed, mental illness, and death makes it all the more intriguing.

Here are some photos I found on Flickr of the mansion.

But the thing I remember clearest of the mansion? The morning room.
Do click on this photo for a larger peek at this beyond gorgeous room.
The soft green tiles, the ferns, the views of Lake Superior, the stained glass windows. I wanted to sit right down and have some coffee and read the paper. Forever. Well, maybe at least for a Sunday morning.
That sink! Again, click on this. 
omg - even better shot - CLICK!
Now excuse me; I need to check out that Flickr account with all the photos. Let's go and tour this wonderful place!

More links:
On Pinterest

Paste the other links if you care to read more.

Saturday, January 24, 2015

That's My Name, Don't Wear It Out

Pup wants a tattoo. Yeeeesss?
I'm joking of course. The best way to jinx your relationship is to tattoo your love's name on your body. Instant death. Ask Nick Cannon (Maria Carey's soon-to-be-ex-or-maybe-ex-already?). Or ask anybody that has done such a thing.

We should speak of tattoos at some point though.

But I wander off of point . . .

My name is Deborah. For real, not just for blogness.


When I was a child and young adult I was called Debi. When I was really little my momma spelled it Debby. When I got to my "creative" phase in middle school I switched up the spelling to Debi to differentiate myself from the millions of other Debbys. There were so many! And I always knew I wouldn't be Debi my whole life. I remember being 14 and just KNOWING that by the time I was 40 (40! Would I live so long??) I would be Deborah.

I always, secretively, loved my given name. I loved how it looked written out. I loved how it looked written across the top of a page. When I worked for a publishing house my name as typographer/interior book design was written on the copyright page along with everyone associated with the creation of the book. I can't lie; it was thrilling to have my name connected with dozens and dozens of publications I had typeset. Thrilling especially that first time.

When I fill out paperwork I use my given name. When I sign I use my given name. I never use Debi or worse; Deb. I've never been Deb in my life!

It's a tricky name for people. No one wants to say it. Or write it. Just a month or so ago when Pup and I signed up for our new gym I filled out the paperwork with the recruiter. Spelling my first and last names as I always do. He shortens it to "Deb."

"Wait," I say. "You spelled my name wrong."

"Oh, is this a big deal?" the young recruiter says.

"Yes, that's not my name."

He looks at me blankly.

Repeat this scenario a million times.

After I quit my biz and got my corporate job (which was another thrilling job - kinda loved that job) I, again, filled out everything with my name. DEBORAH. My sign for my office arrived with DEBBIE written on it.

Grr! I sent it back.

Just a couple of weeks ago Pup and I ran into an old neighbor of his from his little boy days. I introduced myself to her as Pup's wife.

"Hi! I'm Deborah."

"Do you go by "Deb?"

"Deborah, I go by Deborah."

Blank stare.

A blank stare I've seen so many times!

Pup says the name Deborah is puzzling to some people. They don't know how to pronounce it. It seems too formal.

I call crap!

If someone introduces themselves to me as Thomas I wouldn't take it upon myself to call him Tom. He didn't say Tom. He said Thomas!

These are the things that fill my brain. It's not the end of the world or important to anyone but me, but it does have the bug factor.

It's a lovely name! And my name is a huge factor in the names Wasband and I picked out for our two girls. Names that couldn't easily be shortened. Names that would be their names! Lovely names!

But I won't share them here! The blogness-life isn't for them.

Smooches and happy Saturday y'all!

Friday, January 23, 2015

Hot Men Friday

Right about now I'm beginning to feel like Andy Cohen (from Watch What Happens Live and Bravo TV fame) who is having a sober January as his kickstart; I am counting the days until I can stop this madness of posting every day.

It's been a rather good thing for me. But a bit lame and pointless. Although the point was for me. Forgive me dear readers.

So . . .


Some people are just pretty. There are so many people I could stare at forever although my momma always said that was rude. And then she'd say something snarky about that person anyway (smooches and hugs my sassy momma - miss you and your snarky tongue).

Not that I 'm not a snarky girl, but I can appreciate a beauty. Male and female. I love me some pretty.
I believe this is someone's Photoshop masterpiece. I found it on Tumblr.
Bitch Stole My Look

Thursday, January 22, 2015

Wednesday, January 21, 2015


This was labeled "vitamins." I hope they are!
Bouncing off from yesterday's ramblings I have questions for all of you supplement takers . . .

Does it feel as though you have a mitt full of pills on the daily to take?

I've never been good at taking pills. My daughter Bella and I were talking the other day and she reminded me how she has always had a very hard time swallowing pills. I had forgotten she had the same problem!

When I was young, I would CHEW aspirin because I just couldn't swallow. Please no jokes  :)

I still have a level of difficulty today. But some of those damn things are crazy big!


It's one of the reasons I'm not always the best about taking them.

I have them all organized in a large AM PM pill case. Yes, just like your Meemaw uses for all of her medications. Pup and I joke constantly about our geezer pill boxes. But we'd rather have supplements to take than be on lots of meds.

I think.


What I'd like to hear from you guys is what are the tricks you use to actually TAKE your supplements? Pup is a morning guy. He can swallow a HANDFUL with water no problem. Not me. So he's a right-a-way-in-the-morning supplement taker.

I have some for the morning and some for the evening.

How do you guys approach this?

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

Vitamin D Y'all!

Okay - I was believing my fuzzy-headed thinking was much better, but I just ran into the kitchen after hearing the siren call of my coffeepot (beep beep beep) signaling that coffee is ready! Only to find a carafe of hot water.


And my brilliant plan for yesterday was to blog the day's events at the end of the day.



I met with my lovely natural hormone therapy doctor yesterday to go over my latest blood work. Much improvement and several areas that are being stubborn. What I do know to be different is when I went to him last year I was having a million about 25-30 hot flashes during the day. Now I might have 1 or 2.

But that stubborn Vit D is still in the crapper and my DHEA is still low.

So a continued plan for those deficiencies and reevaluate in six months.

My doc was telling me something fascinating that might be common knowledge. Higher levels of vitamin D correlate with less multiple sclerosis disease activity and progression.

He said when he found out about the study he got "pissed" that this wasn't HUGE news. It was out there here and there with a google search (of course), but mainstream media let it lie. No attention to something that should have the biggest spotlight on it. (Here is an article about it I just found with a quick search.)

We have MS in our family on an in-law side and I asked Pup to speak to his BIL about his Vit D levels.

My doctor brought it up during a conversation he and I were having about Big Pharma.

He is a physician and is hesitant to say that doctors are in the pockets of BP, but did say that the system does not reward prevention by route of behavior changing diagnosis. Most doctors throw prescriptions at their patients rather than go with a try this or try that approach.

I kinda love this guy.

My prescriptions from him are definitely not tied with Big Pharma. The biggest clue is their cost. Without insurance my two bio-identical prescriptions cost around $30. One monthly and the other one about two to two and a half months between refills. Ya. No co-pay required.

I'm kinda all over the place with this post, but he said another amazing thing to me while we were discussing how to get my Vit D levels UP (gah!!). I mentioned getting in the sun as much as possible during the day and should I be using my tanning bed (we have one, but don't use it too much - last year doc suggested I use it a couple of minutes a day to dissuade Seasonal Affect Disorder).

He told me that as we age and our hormones get so messed up with the aging process, nutritional deficiencies, free-radical crap, etc. we are less able to effectively absorb Vit D from the sun. He told a story of a fellow doctor friend of his that lives in Arizona, golfs every day, has a bald head, wears no sunscreen or hat. I was expecting a lecture about sun screen (he actually thinks we don't need it as much as we need a good Vit D level), but he went on to finish the story by telling me that despite all of that, his doctor friend's levels were 7! A good level is 50. Mine are crappy and they're 23!

These are the things that are making us sad and fat and depressed and out of balance.

He also said Vit D is a balance with DHEA levels as well. A low level of DHEA will not allow proper Vit D absorption.

So complicated.

I wish I had taken thorough notes yesterday. I wish I played golf with my doctor! Imagine the stuff I'd learn!