It’s “Hey Rene J” Today!

Home again, home again. Such a beautiful road trip and wonderful memory-making time. It is always good for friends and family to learn more about each other. I think my friend is still my friend, in spite of meeting my family and putting up with me in the car!

As said friend and I returned this evening, basking in the glow of our completion of the 5K and our successful retail therapy events, we both were taken aback and gasped as we entered our neighborhood. Two huge (albeit beautiful) Christmas displays were burning bright to greet us. Mild expletives were released simultaneously as we felt the immediate pressure to “up our game” this year. This came on the heels of our debate about whether or not to even decorate this year! It’s not even Thanksgiving and we’re already behind.

Regaining our composure we unpacked, vowed to regroup this week, and set to getting ourselves combobulated. It could happen!

Seriously….I’m about to pee my pants. We are on the eve of the Cindy Curran Memorial Run. My brother and his wife have arrived. My sister, neighbor and I are ready to run. And we are recalling last year’s winning event.

My family – not a family of runners – came to honor my sister. My sister’s husband and family – all runners – were obviously there, also. We all walked/ran and endured brutally cold temperatures and wind to finish the event. Medals were presented after.

Imagine the surprise to the over-200 guests in attendance when the winning runner in the men’s division was my husband! He accepted his prize in his Elmer Fudd hat, moon boots, and Eddie Bauer winter coat. He did not run, but walked through the winner’s arch, obviously before the runners in the division. My family was dying with laughter, and not just because of how he looked (funny enough) but because he was not even close in proximity to any resemblance of a runner. The runner-up people were in appropriate gear.

We might have been able to overlook this except my daughter also won. She was a walker. This year I am laying low and disowning my family. I didn’t even tell them I was coming.

Geez! I miss two days on my blog and of course, my sister and good friend are ready to rub it in my face. The answer is, “Road Trip.”

I am on a road trip and I had no wi-fi connection last night. I could have written, but I would have had to wake the master of the house and get the password. That didn’t seem like a wise idea. The evening before last evening….I fell asleep, exhausted and without a decent thought in my head. (Not like this incredibly riveting confession.)

Look for regaling tales. However, this morning I am on cinnamon roll duty. I cannot dilly dally as I don’t want them to burn. My fabulous BIL (bro-in-law) made them for us girls this morning. We are having coffee with my sister’s friend, Sherry, this morning. Perhaps we will take a long, long, long walk as we prepare for tomorrow’s 5K race, which is named in honor of my beautiful sister who passed away almost two years ago. We need to get in shape for the race within 24 hours!

There goes the timer and the coffee is brewed. Here is the doorbell! Adios!

Were you looking for a pretty pink envelope to go with that birthday card you purchased? Perhaps you wanted an autumn-colored envelope to mail your missive? Did you find only white envelopes in the display? I know why.

It seems that my posse of friends has admitted to “envelope switching,” an apparently common misdeed. This practice allows one to pick the color better suited for the card. One friend even confessed she exchanged the suggested envelope for a larger one! After recovering from the shock of these admissions, I was able to see the innocence in choosing one’s own color to employ with the USPS. Perhaps those who make the critical retail decisions of card-to-envelope-color are actually color-blind? Maybe they have no skill in choosing color compatibility? Maybe they just don’t care and they slap a white envelope with the card? While the general public has a right to know, I fear it may not be an issue any time soon for any team of experts.

So, as we wait for the 9NEWS reporters to uncover the truth, it was generally agreed that switching the envelope for a color which has meaning for you is acceptable. (We did not touch the tricky subject of switching envelope sizes.) The next time you receive a card delivered to your mailbox, realize that the envelope was chosen just as carefully.

Text: Do you still have a fanny pack?
Me: I hope not.
Text: You used to have a lime green one, didn’t you?
Me: Don’t know. Why?
Text: I need one.
Me: You can come over and look around.


30 minutes later my daughter shows up to plow through the ski bin and the closets searching for a fanny pack. They are in high demand now, and the uglier and older, the better. However, the caveat is that you cannot be an old fart wearing it – you have to be young and hip and “with it” to pull it off. Seriously!

She was delighted to find two in our possession. I would have hoped I eliminated them years ago. Actually, they are quite practical. The European men wear them – still. Old and young alike. I know that’s not what the appeal is though.

Who knows what else they will drag out of the past to enjoy again. I guess I’m glad I kept my purple bag. I gave it to my daughter so she wouldn’t have to wait until it was bequeathed to her with the rest of the nostalgia filling our house. Luckily, we have an extra one for our son, too.

We were supposed to have a guest blogger this evening, but time and money got in the way. He had better things to do with his time and I had no money to pay him! He will make an appearance at some point.

Speaking of appearances – have you noticed we’re skipping Thanksgiving and heading straight to Christmas? The stores are already decorated and the advertising is ramping up. And I caved. I ordered a Christmas gift online tonight. I googled Christmas cookie ideas. I ordered a super-duper deluxe cookie decorating kit for myself. Yes, I fell victim to the marketers telling me I have so little time and can save money by shopping early. How does that work? It’s like the grocery store clerks who circle the receipt total and tell me how much money I saved! I always answer, “Yes, and look how much I spent. I didn’t save anything!”

I’ll work on keeping my head in the Thanksgiving season, just as soon as I finish watching the weather to determine when I can put my Christmas lights up.

There was a lot to do before viewing the Pacific Asia Curling Championships today on the telly. Watching someone sweeping ice makes me glad I didn’t waste my time today!

What did I do? I went shopping and did not buy anything. I had to ignore letting the dog out and endure twenty minutes of whining. Then I had to ignore outdoor whining as he wanted to come right back in. I had to eat some Halloween candy since we had no trick-or-treaters this year. I was compelled to light a stinky candle because I’ve burned all of the good ones. I was forced to ignore the pile of laundry because it’s almost sundown and I’ve decided to channel my ancient Jewish heritage. (Goes back to Abraham, you know.) I had to move the book I’m occasionally plowing through so that I could put my feet up on the bed. And now, the dog wants to go out again.

I’ll relax from this strenuous day by watching a movie we dvr’d for desperate times, “The Poseidon Adventure.” Uneventful can be entertaining, too.

This year’s Christmas exchange is a specified dollar amount, but the color of the gift has to be red! Before this claim was staked, red was everywhere. Now, I can’t find it.

My family does a wacky Christmas gift exchange every year. (It is a tradition I omitted in the wedding vows.) Last year the giver could only have the gift be everything acquired “for free“ throughout the year. Thus, we had hotel amenities, ”King Soopers free Friday downloads,” Menard’s offers, rebates, Scholastic Books paraphernalia. It was pretty darn interesting. The year before the exchange was the “As Seen on TV” year. The gift had to be of that particular specification. It was fun because you would never buy most of that for yourself, but somehow getting it as a gift made it kosher. (btw…Wal-Mart and Walgreens have great sections for that exchange.) Before that, it was anything from your storage unit/basement/Goodwill.

As always, you bring a gift, you get a gift. Age is no boundary.

Nobody needs anything. We are blessed. However, we do seem to need fun and a challenge of sorts, because, we are those kind of people. Silly as it may seem, we laugh more with this way of thinking and “gift stealing” than we would if we paid thoughtful attention to our family and sought the perfect gift. Maybe we’re just lazy? It’s entirely possible. Maybe we don’t pay enough thoughtful attention to each other? Highly likely.

Thus, the parameters are limited this year. Red.

My Mom was a 4-H leader. (One of those I asked God to bless last night!) She taught crocheting and knitting. Of course I learned a valuable parenting lesson with that. I knew my children wouldn’t take piano lessons from their mom! How I wish I would have sucked it up and learned to knit or crochet back then. My hands do not want to cooperate in that endeavor anymore.

Many, many years after my first sewing debacle, I decided to whip up my own wedding dress, saving myself thousands of dollars. The bridal magazine had one I wanted for an exorbitant price, so I copied it! This would be fun! Who doesn’t love a monumental challenge?

I beaded the whole thing – it was gorgeous. Then I had to put the pieces together. Obviously, it was a “mermaid” style, with a flared lower tier. I couldn’t get that tier with the yards and yards of fabric gathered properly or even remotely close to being able to pin to the bodice. On the verge of 4-H tears at the age of 30, I drove home. My dear mother stepped in. She told me to go and take a walk. When I returned, lo and behold, she had succeeded in that Herculean effort and had gathered the skirt and pinned it to the bodice.

Remember – don’t quit the project when it seems impossible. Ask for help. And take piano lessons. (Not anything gleaned from this episode, just a really good idea.)

Yesterday provided a snow day here in the Centennial State, so I took to tasks I had put off for a few months in the role of “Seamstress.” Chatting with my Pinterest friend, “Panita,” we were brainstorming today on a related sewing adventure for her. Thus, I was reminded of how I became a seamstress. It is riveting saga.

My mother sewed everything for us growing up – and usually two of everything as she dressed my sister and I alike for many years. I wanted to be able to sew like her. When I could join 4-H, I did so and proceeded to sew my first “quick trick skirt.” It earned me a red ribbon – not a blue or purple, but not the worst – white. Then I graduated to the second year and attempted a more elaborate costume combo of pants and a shirt. I should have made another quick trick skirt.

I cried my way through that adventure. I ripped out seams which were unevenly sewn, I zigzagged raveling edges. I’m surprised the thing held together long enough to be entered in the county fair. For all of my hard work and tears I earned a red ribbon. I was so upset with that stupid ribbon because I had worked “sew” hard on my outfit. I did the only thing I could think of. I quit 4-H. However, I kept sewing! I wasn’t going to let some judges stop me from creating my way.

My seams are not always even, or pretty, but they work just fine. And God bless the 4-H leaders and judges who had to put up with the likes of me.