That's Alright Momma

It's 78 degrees here at the Chez Emerson. And it's 5:30 in the morning.

I have spent the majority of the summer in sundresses, skirts, and tanks. Wearing as few items as legally allowed. Funny how you get used to your summer uniform. Jeans are going to feel so weird! Do I have to wear jeans ever?

And I cannot remember the last time I wore shoes. Or even heels. I'm not counting wedges, but proper heels.

I'll have to put some heels on later and pretend.

Our deck is awash daily with bright sun. I haven't sat out there for a while. I had a few people over for dinner last night and it was a little sad to me to not be outside. The deck looked sad as well. Poor deck! I love you still. I will sit on you again I promise.

Instead we sat in the big room and after dinner (I baked pork chops and sweet potatoes - yes I said baked! I am sick of grilling! Ha!) we sat there having a second glass of wine and talking talking talking. I love after dinner table-talk. It's always the best. I love it when you can barely tear yourself away from the table because the conversation is so great. You know if you move to the sofa it will change. It just always does. It stays important leaning over the table and spiking the air with fist pumps and declarations while hoisting your glass of wine. Or that could just be me.

Rock em and sock em today my lovely hooches. But first, come have dinner with me. I'll pour some Fat Bastard and fist pump with you.

Summer

Poutine - eh - damn Canadians

Minnesota State Fair

Now that summer is nearly over it's time to assess.

1. busy summer - yes
2. many less than stellar choices regarding fitness and nutrition - check
3. workout schedule abandoned - check
4. helping parents top priority - check
5. hanging out in cool little/big town - check
6. happy nearly always - check
7. still loving coffee - check
8. managing to fit in some incredibly fun events  - check
9. which included buying a camper - check

Alright! Not so bad.

While going to the fair is a questionable item in the fitness world, it can mark a beginning on the calendar. Fall is considered by many to be a beginning.

• school is starting
• the new Vogue is here (haven't cracked into it yet) - my mailman must hate me
• temps will be falling - yes - eventually
• cleaning - yes - eventually
• organizing fitness schedule

I will eat some Poutine today and a Pronto Pup or two, but I will walk miles and think about the fall plan.

What is your fitness plan for fall?

My Milkshake

Brainard International Raceway 2012

My sister, Naea and I had been talking about it for a few years. She and Rocker (her hubs) have been going up there with their beloved Beulah (motorhome) for eight years. She has said on numerous occasions, "You will not believe how much fun." I thought, How much fun can it really be?

How much fun can you stand?

She and Rocker know how to do it. I don't know how we got so lucky to be included in their fun, but we are lucky somabiches! I say it! I say it loud!

It also happened to be Rocker's birthday week so he left on Tuesday to get his boy-partying on and we picked up Naea in The Guest House on Friday. She navigated us in.

I'm really glad we had her with us.

When you arrive all you see is a sea. A sea of campers. Literally as far as the eye can see. We heard over 130,000 people were there.

130,000 people.

That is a city. A good sized city. And I have to say, that for the most part, it was a well-behaved city. We heard a few stories of idiocy, but mostly it was happy people.

"You have to see The Zoo!" Naea had been telling me for weeks. For some reason I thought The Zoo was an actual place. She just meant the EXPERIENCE. Meaning: riding around in the midst of the sea of campers. Roads and roads meandering amongst the campers. Miles of campers. I cannot say this enough times.

The thing that is most amazing to me is Rocker and Naea have a reserved spot right up against the fence at the finish line. And they got us in right next to them. We are right in there with our tiny nugget of a camper.

Sisters have a special type of power over boys. When I was dating a few years back whenever the subject of my having a sister came up, a certain look came over my date's face. You may have seen that look. Have you seen that look?

Naea had told some of her fellow campers in and around their spot that her sister was coming so when Pup, Naea, and I arrived they flocked to see the sisters. Sister power! Our milkshake brings all the boys to the yard. And all of them had great names. I didn't have to make not even one up.

There was Scrappy, Charlie, Bam Bam to name a few. Scrappy and Charlie looked exactly like the Gallagher brothers from Oasis. There was one guy that was a little drunken/smitten with me that followed me around all night calling for "Miss Debi." Naea could not stop laughing. She knew The Zoo was gearing up.

We grab cocktails and hop into the back of The Cushman, Pup and I seatbelted into the back. Rocker driving with skill and depth perception. We go to check out The Zoo. Blasting through another sea. A sea of 4-wheelers, golf carts, scooters, motorized couches, motorized tables and chairs. I couldn't get over the inventive means of transport all over the place.

The Cushman is nearly one of a kind around there and gets lots of attention. Waving and laughing on our end. And screaming from me. Rocker would stop, do a doughnut, and keep going. Pup and I grabbing our cocktails instead of the side-railing laughing and laughing.

We'd pull into wherever we could fit. Rocker drove right up to the stage where the band was playing. We all hopped out and danced around like crazy people. My brother-in-law can drop it like it's hot! His little arse can touch the ground and then he can bring it back up. Years of playing hockey as a goalie I'm told from my smiling sister. His arse must be hard as an apple from all of that!

I'm dancing with Rocker like a maniac, dropping it like it's luke-warm, because my arse isn't getting anywhere near the ground. It got halfway to the ground? Maybe? Truth be told? It is now Tuesday morning and my butt-cheeks are still hurting from trying to keep up with him.

Naea just kept laughing.

The races were good too! The best seat in the house was on Beulah's roof.

As for me? I'm going back next year, but I'm going into training before hand. I gotta keep up with The Zoo.

My 500th Post

I've been thinking for a while how I would treat this, my 500th post.

500 posts.

I have yammered and gone on and on for 500 posts. My blog isn't huge, but I'm surprised every week by the people I discover that read it. It's not always that damn interesting, but some people are reading it. For that I cry a little.

From happiness you hooches!

So, I have been thinking what I would do.

The truth? I'm not much of a planner. I'm not really good at it. I don't like too many details. If I'm given too many details, too many emails, too many changes, I shut down. I stop reading, listening, paying attention.

I'm a bottom-line kind of girl. Just get me to the bottom; get me to the meat of it. Get me?

When I know the when; when I know the how; when I know the end; that's what works for me. All the rest of it is chatter to me. I'm not saying that the details aren't important - oh yes they are! Some details I'm fond of. I won't go into details on the types of details I am fond of, but just know that some do work for me. I'm trying really really hard to not use a winking emoticon.

This yammering and going on and on has been a life changer for me. Not in ways you can see by looking at me, but in ways I see when looking at me.

So this is the way I'm treating this, my 500th post. Yammering on and on.

Smooches to all.

I Am Vicious!

Picture this is you will . . .

Pet supper time at the Chez Emerson.

For some reason feeding the pets every day is a bit of a tug-of-war between me and Pup. He's one of the youngest in his family and I can just hear what he was like as a little kid, "But I did it yesterday!" Make sure you read that with the proper portion of whiney-voice. Ha!

I'm the oldest in my family so I'm used to bossing people around. As I've mentioned millions of times. I also remember that bossing didn't always work on my younger siblings.

Okay . . . so it is pet supper-time; I'm doing the honors. We have George, the lovable 75 pound dog of the huge noggin. We have Calvin, coconut-minded cat that is on Prozac (please don't ask - vet is even in awe of this), and we have the constant houseguest cat DK - or as we call her, Deekers.

I am dawdling while getting the pet dishes ready. George gets very very excited at this time of day. Hey! Wouldn't you get excited if the only thing you got to eat every day is two cups of kibble and a third can of dog-food-smelling canned crap? Yes?

I'm dawdling away at the counter, George is in the kitchen - then the dining room - then the kitchen. Getting very wound up. Whooping and barking and prancing around. We're not exactly certain, but I believe one of his prances swiped Deekers somehow. She wasn't having it. She launched an attack on George  that sent him crying and yipping to the back door. Deekers had wrapped her 6 pound body - let me repeat that, her 6 pound body - around George's nose and head and had him in a death grip.

Then all hell broke loose. George yipping, Pup hollering, Barnabee calling on the phone, cat's tails puffed out, dog trying to get out back door. Even Calvin got huffy-puffy at George - I know he didn't know why.

Serious bedlam. Screaming, laughing, yipping, hissing. Pup grabbed Deekers and yelled at her. I was yelling at Pup. George was yelling to get out. Calvin was yelling just to feel part of it.

Pup was put out with me stating that if I didn't dawdle so much when feeding the pets George wouldn't get so excited. I, of course, couldn't stop laughing. None of them thought I was amusing. And Barnabee on the phone? They thought someone was being murdered.

George wouldn't come back in the house for the remainder of the day.

Pup says I'm vicious! These three look like they got over it.

Ruby Tuesday

I confess lots of stuff here on The Fashion Plate. I'm a blabber-mouth at times. Not all times. Some times.

My political leanings I'm kinda quiet about. Too polarizing and really, who cares what I think?

One place cares - I started volunteering (my darling Bella's idea and I hitched my arse to her committed wagon) a few weeks ago and in between driving Barnabee to the Mayo a million times this summer I've been enjoying myself oh so much doing my volunteer gig. I am now officially one of those incredibly annoying people that canvas targeted areas with phone calls. So sorry! Be glad you aren't in my calling district because I'm so persuasive. Before you know it you'll be saying, "Deborah! Of course I will do that! I will march right over there and do anything you ask of me!" I'm just that good! Ask Benjamin the coordinator. He wandered over to my phone station and said, "You're really good on the phone. I mean REALLY good." I have found my calling. After all these years. I told you I was annoying. What better way to prove it? If you saw me right now you'd see the hugest grin ever. I must love being annoying! And it's paying off. Enough said.

With all the Barnabee driving this summer I've neglected my Ruby. My Jeep. So I drove it last Saturday to my GNO outing. The girls I went with wanted me to. It was the singularly perfect day of the entire summer and the day that if you didn't drive your Ruby you were not the sort that deserved to own a Rubicon. You'd get kicked out of the Jeep club.

So I drove.

We put little, tiny, Shelley-Belly in the back. At one point I turned around and saw her little body being thrown helter-skelter, back and forth, up and down, and around against her seatbelt. She weighs less than my dog George and I was fearful she'd be blown out the back like a lost tictac.

I pulled over and she traded with Alli-Baby. Alli didn't look much happier back there! One of them said, "Have YOU ever ridden back here?" Why no I haven't! I'm usually driving!

Lesson learned. The back seat of Ruby is not fun at 75 miles per hour. So sorry my lovely peeps. You really are such whiners!   ;)

With all the above being said, I have a few photos to share. Random, have nothing to do with what I'm yammering on about, photos.

It's Tuesday in August! I am loving the weather at this moment. So awesome.

Here is one photo from our canoe trip. How lovely yes? Of course I fell out of the canoe. Yes I did. At the end. Klutzy much?

Spring Rolls with my Lorenzo. Yes, it's usually all about the food.

A rare ride in Pup's cute little car.

A little conference with one of Pup's hot clients. Why are all of his contractor clients so hot? It's hard to focus. The conference is about a little project at the Chez Emerson.

Shopping trip also with my Lorenzo. I look annoyed. I have become even more annoying than I ever thought possible. I really like the word annoying. Ha!

My favorite dusty antique shop in St. Paul. It was even worse than ever! Love it so much.

St. Croix River out of the window of The Guest House.

Beautiful artwork at the Mayo.

Hello! Is It Me You're Looking For?

Did you miss me?

I've been running around like my . . . [fill in witty observation].

My name-my-camper poll has ended. I don't like the name that got the most votes! I'm going with The Guest House although the ironic and subversive side of me wants to go with Hilary. I'm weird like that. You know I am.

So it was a week of opposites. And similars. And a lot of wth moments. But hey! I thrive on wth moments apparently. Don't we all?

And I've learned a thing or two this week.

• Endless MPR (Minnesota Public Radio) listening will make you think you're uber-smart. You aren't.
• I walk faster than I think I do.
• I can leave the house to meet a friend for cocktails with dirty hair. Amazing what a cute dress and Ray-Bans will do for your self-perception. If you believe it works; it works.
• Two and a half hour meetings can go by in the wink of an eye. The outcomes aren't always clear. Kinda like this sentence.  ;)  That is an emoticon. I use them with wild abandon. Yes - I am so 10 years ago.
• Just because you think something doesn't make it so. I am FULL of smart-thoughts. Not all agree with me despite my bossy ways.
• I really am not as bossy as I think I am. There are only two letters of difference between bossy and wussy. You pick.
• It is hard to twist your hair and write. I've tried. Repeatedly.

Speaking of hair - I suddenly, inexplicably, need a haircut. Like it looks-like-crap-needs-a-haircut haircut. How can hair look so amazing one day and then bam - look like crap suddenly. Ooooooh hair I love/hate you so.

The weekend is beginning my hooches. I am doing this and a lot of that.

One of them is canoeing with my GNO bunch. I whined yesterday that I was tired of driving, but today is promising to be lovely and I think I need to put the top down on Ruby (my Jeep) and drive like I need to. I'll take a couple of partners-in-crime with me. I can't promise we'll be good.

Quote

Anything worth doing is worth doing slowly.
~Mae West

I have been impressed with the urgency of doing. Knowing is not enough; we must apply. Being willing is not enough; we must do.
~Leonardo Da Vinci

Better slip with foot than tongue.
~Benjamin Franklin

There's very little advice in men's magazines, because men don't think there's a lot they don't know. Women do. Women want to learn. Men think, I know what I'm doing, just show me somebody naked.
~Jerry Seinfeld

Hot Men Friday

John Krasinski

If I told you everything about this week some of you would pet me and murmur, "Poor Deborah, you need a hug and a glass of Maker's Mark." Both of which I'd take. And smooches to you.

And, yes, some of you would say, "Oh for crying out loud; shad-up!" That's okay, I do go on and on. It is part of my charm. Yes it is! Extra smooches to you.

But, thankfully, I will not go on and on just now. But what I will do is enjoy a little Hot Man action.

This guy snuck into my heart without even me knowing it. I was relaxing in The Big Room one recent afternoon looking for distraction and stumbled on this movie. Something Borrowed. I hadn't even heard of it. It was meh - not bad, not awesome. But cute and distracting. He seems sweet and kind, and yes, hot. I found myself looking forward to seeing his character on the screen.

He's the guy you should have dated. The guy you want to hang out with. The guy that will make you laugh.

Have a way-more-than-awesome weekend my hooches. I am, once again, heading out to drive south to the land of help and hope.

Nicknames

Ruby - do you love me?

Do you have one?

For years and years, mostly when my wasband and I were dating, my nickname was Dizzy.

This came about because my wasband's nickname was Buzzy and the friend that named me thought Dizzy and Buzzy went together like Drunk and Disorderly (reference totally stolen).

After a while it became obvious that the name was perfect for me since I do have my moments. The same friend that named me (love you Nimmy and miss you always) would look at me after I had maybe a blurting moment, shake his head and say, "That's why she's Dizzy!" I grew to love my nickname. I swear there was a period of time in my 20s and 30s when some people didn't know my real name. I was just Diz.

I love nicknames. I name everything. Yes, I am that girl that names her car, names her house, names her children.

I drove a car I affectionately named Barbie (1978 Malibu - this was in the 90s) and my Jeep is Ruby. Love you Ruby! I mean, look! I'm begging ya'll to help me name my damn camper!

Here in the family, we do actually call daughter #2 Lorenzo. I forget sometimes that not everyone is clued into who she is. I've had people say, "I didn't know you had a son?" Ooops! Lorenzo is a girl. Very much a girl.

And Bella. My oldest daughter has the same middle name as me and we dropped it nearly immediately and added Bella instead. So much so that when we went to a family reunion and someone had done the genealogy, Bella's name was written in as Bella. We had a good laugh at that one.

When my girls were in school and had millions of friends I could not keep them straight. Especially all the boys. I named most of them with identifiers.

• Big Eye Boy
• Parrot Boy
• Mini-van Boy
• . . . I'm forgetting . . . there are more. Help me Bella!

When I was dating as a grown woman, I named every guy I dated.

• Peanut Butter Boy - melted in the sun of reality
• Rocky - kind of a swaggering dude
• Pepe le Pew - he kissed me just like Pepe and Pepe's beloved Penelope Pussycat
• Jaguar - he did love that car
• Harry - actually his real name, but I loved saying it over and over

In my blog everyone has a nickname. Well, nearly everyone. I have my own boring name. Although my Starbuck's name is Nadia. Just so I can hear something exotic when the Barista calls out my order, "Medium Americano with room for Nadia!"

Makes me swoon every time.