Monday, January 28, 2013

Reoccurring Dreams

Here's mine:

Dream starts out in a playful setting: I'm in college and having fun :)   Quickly changes to NIGHTMARE: The semester is almost over and I haven't been to any of my classes, read any of the materials, taken any tests.  Last night's dream was this scenario with the addition of it being my very last semester in college and feared the inevitable F I was about to receive.  

What's yours?

Friday, January 25, 2013

Carafe'tin Time!

I love the term Stitch and Bitch.  To me, it represents girlfriends getting together and crafting. But I would substitue Wine for Bitch in our case.  My girlfriends are pretty drama free.  We don't really have that much to bitch about other than our sore abs/ass/legs/arms at the moment due to Booty Camp.  We all are quite content with our lives, our children, our jobs, our homes, etc.  I'm not trying to paint this "pretty, stable, family picture" as one of my DNA counter parts would say, but its definitely not a "group of girls ranting and talking bad about their men/kids/pets/jobs/lives lets-use-the-stitch-excuse-to-bitch type of party.   The two words rhyme and thats pretty much it.  I'm now gonna call it "Craft and Carafe" because that's more along the lines of what happens.  And right now, the wine is flowin because of our recent trip to Walla Walla. :) 

So tonight is another edition of Stitch and Bitch Craft and Carafe.  We are going to make Valentine crafts, more specifically, yarn wreaths.  I love this idea, mainly because I'm half way there as far as materials needed.  You pick the color, I've got it.  So last night I got a head start and wrapped my foam circle in yarn.  On all the DIY blogs regarding this project I've found don't mention the part where it takes a lot of time and patience to wrap a whole wreath.  I was able to get Hottie Hubs help for a wee bit (emphasis on wee but it was the thought that counted) and then I got into a rhythm.  Tonight I'm going to add a few things to it with my trusty glue gun and felt.  Here's the start to the wreath.

Foam circle and purple yarn.
Flash from camera does not flatter this wreath

This better represents the true color.

Happy Friday! 



These are pictures I took during the crafting party, and have been a little lazy in getting them on here to show you the end results.  M
Almost done wrapping the pink string.  
This took quite some time.

Done. For the night anyway.  
Still need to put some hearts/flowers on it.

Jenny's wreath all wrapped up.

Her amazing felt flowers. 

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Two Beiber Brushes and a NKOTB pillowcase

Am I the only one who received 2 Justin Beiber singing toothbrushes for my (30th) birthday?

Pretty sure I was. Lucky for Rodney me they were different, which means different colors and 4 different two-minute songs. Lucky for Rodney me I haven't used them yet because I'm still using the one my dentist gave me.  

I'm also pretty sure I'm the only one (if not, please fess up) with the rest of this list.

-Driven off with the drive thru banking cylinder.
-Uses the windshield wiper fluid level as a gauge for changing the oil (not the best idea, I realize this)
-Gets called Brooke or Blair or Blaze or Blaine once a day (possibly more)
-Calls leggings "leggins"
-Carries the family dog around like the family toddler
-Sleeps on a NKOTB pillowcase (well sometimes Hottie Hubs does, so I guess I'm not the only one)
-Knows the Royal Ranger code and was never a Royal Ranger
-Has an arsenal of over 100 beanies/beardies/fingerless gloves
-Could eat an entire smorgasbord of breakfast items the millisecond my eyes open each morning. (except biscuits and gravy as explained in next bullet)
-HATES gravy. Especially country gravy.  Chunky, peppery, sausage-y substance??? NAST-TAY. 
-Watches "Hey Dude" on my lunch breaks. C'mon little doggie
-Falls up the stairs wearing a Snuggie (however I'm sure I'm not the only one)
-Uses the Snuggie sleeve as an eye mask at night. 
-Dropped a cell phone in a port-o-potty hole 
-Used a rest stop bathroom barefoot. Oh wait. That wasn't me. That was Britney Spears.  
-Impulse purchased a Spongebob Squarepants Sno-Cone Maker.
-Still own Moon Shoes. As seen in the super awesome picture from this post.
-Believes in a right-handed world conspiracy. 
-Thought the Knitting Factory was just as the title says.  And I did remember thinking it was weird but cool that G Love and Special Sauce was playing there. But we went, and it was amazing. Minus all the knitters I thought would be there sitting on couches enjoying the show. Boy did I look strange crocheting in the mosh pit. 
-Stretched my earholes to now regret that decision. <insert my mother's voice saying "I told you so"> They grew back, well for the most part. The left one is still a little big, but nothing the elderly women can't compete with after decades of wearing heavy dangly earrings. 

Going back to the NKOTB fetish I still got goin on....I recently ran into a long sleeve NKOTB shirt at Forever 31 21 and it got me goin on my childhood love.  So I bought some plastic NKOTB earrings off of ebay and have added a NKOTB pandora station to my mix.  So funny how I remember the words to all of the songs, not just the famous ones. 

"Listen up everybody if you wanna take a chance, Just get on the floor and do the new kids dance!" 

Monday, January 21, 2013

Booty Camp

I can't believe I've agreed to this, but to be quite honest, its the only way I can get back into shape.  I'm going to boot camp. Tomorrow. Morning. Early. Real early. With my two biffs. Thats the other reason I've agreed to go.  Because I can only really truly commit to a workout schedule if I have a friend doing it with me.  Or else the fat chubby version of me sits on my shoulder and tells me to eat another Sour Patch Kid, then another Reese's, then tells me in the morning to stay in my warm bed.  The skinny version of me on my other shoulder tells me to get my arse outta bed because my friends are counting on me.  She also tells me to drink loads of water and eat raw spinach for every meal.

I won't tell you my start weight, or show you before pics, but trust me. My pants are tight. And they're not my skinny jeans either. I'm thisclose to being the perfect candidate for wearing pajama jeans to work.  My tights are too tight. I'm muffin topping practically everything I wear.  People tell me to shut it because I look fine, but trust me, I know how to wear my clothes and how to hide the slight weight gain I've been experiencing since Halloween. And its not pretty. I'm trying to nip it in the butt bud before it gets outta hand and I have to buy new clothes.  I always want to buy new clothes, but not new sizes.  Thats where I draw the line.

So wish me luck. Last time I did this I couldn't sit down gracefully.  I had to just commit and fall to the couch/toilet/chair. I also had to dry my hair by practically setting the hair dryer on the counter because I couldn't lift my arms.  This will be good for me. This will be good for me. This will be good for me.

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

A stark reminder

Seeing all this snow in the valley reminds me of a night I will never forget. 

I'm writing this not only to tell those who have not yet heard this story, but to have it documented so I will never forget the details of this night. Also, to be able to tell my grandchildren, and to use as a lifelong reminder so it won't happen again.

It all began one snowy night in Lewiston, Idaho. Huge, beautiful snowflakes were coming down and the sky was being lit up by the white ground making the night one to remember....

Snowy nights are rare in these parts, so Hottie Hubs and I decided to make the most of it. No, we didn't make naked snow angels, but close. We decided to go skinny dipping in my parents' hot tub. They were somewhere on the Kona Coast enjoying the opposite climate and we were plant watering/showering Miller on that fateful Sunday. It was a spur of the moment decision and we didn't have our swimsuits. But we're married yo! (thank goodness, because this story would have had a drastically different ending)

You see, the hot tub sits on its own balcony about 15 feet or so up (at the time I would have sworn it was 30 feet high), with no stairs leading down. And of course, there's just the one door off of the master bedroom leading to the balcony. I grabbed a towel right before we opened the door so our feet wouldn't freeze to the ground after we got stepped out of the tub. And immediately after shutting the door behind me, I knew. I knew that the door I just shut behind me was locked. And that every other door to my parents house was locked as well. And that we were standing there naked as jay birds about to get into a very hot relaxing tub. Exit romance, enter comedy.  So as fast as two bareskinned people can think in freezing, snowing weather, my hubs dangled my bare buns over the balcony railing and dropped me into the snow. Then threw the one towel over.  I distinctly remember as I landed (on my two feet thank God) seeing deer tracks in the snow right next to where I landed. 

Where am I going at 10pm with no clothes on?  And what is Rodney doing while I'm out being naked in the streets? Both great questions with equally great answers.

Thank thee dear Lord I knew the neighbors (of course, its Lewiston for cryin out loud). So when they heard a knock and saw me standing there with only a towel on, they let me in. Coincidentally they've been in a similar predicament.  And by similar I mean they have a deck with the same dumb locking door.  I'm pretty sure their story didn't involve winter or nudity (but I didn't ask for details).  MEANWHILE......Rodney's relaxing in the hot tub, because what else was he to do?!?!?

I needed the house key. My 95 year old grandpa and my (out of town at the time) sister were the only ones in this town with one. Awesome.  I called my uncle hoping he had a key, but he didn't. But he DID ask why I needed one right this instant and why it couldn't wait until the morning to get Papa's copy. I'm pretty sure I left some private parts out of the story.

For some reason my sister wasn't answering her phone.  I think she may have just been getting back into town.  So I called my mom, told her the situation briefly, and said I needed to get to a key asap.  I will never forget her response.  "Are you naked?????" 

Was I getting punk'd?  Was this some sort of sick joke? Did someone see my naked ass dangling from the balcony and got to my mom before I had a chance to???? Would Batman and Robin get the joker?

No, she's just a mom and has crazy mom intuition. I said, "Well, as a matter of fact I am, how did you know?"  I must of had a sense of naked urgency to my voice. 

So she suggested that I either drive to my sisters house unannounced (because she figured she just wasn't answering her phone at this time of night) or go wake up Papa.  Since now I was wearing a fancy bath robe courtesy of Ms. Neighbor, I decided to try my sisters rather than waltz into an old folks home after hours.  I remember the akward drive to my sisters house with the Mr. Neighbor, just praying that she was going to be home. She opened the door laughing at my robe. What are sisters for?  I quickly told her the story, knowing I would go into more fascinating details in the morning. Off with the key and off to get that (even more now) needed soak in the hot tub!!

BUUUT when I got back to the house and out to the hot tub balcony of shame, Hottie Hubs was now a prune and was more than ready to get out and said something to the effect of "I've seen this on '1001 Ways to Die', I gotta get OUT!" 

(Can I ask why a doornob would "feel" unlocked from the inside but truly be locked from the outside? And why the doorknob needed to be locked in the first place? That's what deadbolts are for!)

 I love to think about the "what ifs" of that story.  What if I didn't know any neighbors?  What if we had no towel? What if we had no key? What if the hot tub was cold? What if I didn't land on two feet? 

Saturday, January 5, 2013

Dog Lady

I realized last week that I'm "that guy girl".  I've turned into this person rather quickly and I'm not ashamed.  I'm the canine version of the cat lady.  Not because I have a million dogs hanging out on my front porch and in my laundry shoot, but because I'm utterly and completely obsessed with my dog.

The realization came when pictures were posted of me on facebook. All of them shown here.  Can you see the common theme?

I'm holding my child dog in all of them.  Not because the photographer shouted, "Pick her up!" But because I'm obsessed with my dog.

If you've ever met my dog, you will know she's amazing.  I've had multiple people tell me that she is literally the best dog they've ever known, and I assure you they weren't just telling me this to get on Lola's my good side.

First off, I want to say I may have become obsessed because my biological clock is ticking extremely loud right now and my motherly instincts are in full swing. That and the fact that I was DEATHLY afraid of dogs from age 6-18.  My fear of dogs has come back, but in a completely different way.  Now instead of being afraid that the dog is going to bite/attack me, I'm afraid that the dog is going to attack/kill Lola.   I have nightmares about this scenario.  I have actually stopped walking Lola around my neighborhood because of this fear. (I actually did have a german shepherd sprint from her yard to across the street and tried to attack Lola. But Lola used her best juke moves and avoided her neck being eaten up. That and the fact that she jumped in my arms. See, the constant holding has come in handy for us.)   And if I walk her on the beautiful levee bypass, I'm constantly looking around for dogs to make sure they're on a leach and that their owner has a firm hold. (which surprisingly a lot of people think their dogs are too good for leashes. me included)

People with human children know their child's every noise, body language and personality better than anyone.  Dogs are no different.  I can read my dog's face and body language to a tee. I know the look she gives me when she has to pee. I know the look when she wants a biscuit.  I know her "I love you so much Mom" face.  I know that after she takes a drink of water within 30 seconds, she'll cough...twice.  I know that when she wakes up, she goes to my side of the bed and rests her head on the bed and as soon as I open my eyes, she'll start wagging her tail in delight that I'm awake.  What I didn't know, is that a dog could turn me into a mothering worry wart.  I guess I know how I'll be someday when I have a human child.

I worry that she's going to choke on rawhides.
I now worry that she needs her anal glands squeezed because she's been chasing her tail a little more than normal.  (which we found out did need to happen, gross as it is.)

See, I told you I'm THAT GUY.

But Lola has to take some responsibility in this too, because if she wasn't the way she was I wouldn't have to be such a worry wart.   If she wasn't so darn human like, I wouldn't be in this frame of mind.

As all dogs do, she has her way of communicating to us.  In the morning, she wakes us up by shaking off and flapping her ears back and forth.  If we don't wake up right after she does it the first time, she'll do it again to let us know she's ready to go out and empty the blad.
She is a major nudger. She will rest her head on your lap for a few minutes just waiting for you to acknowledge her.  She is super sweet.  She loves being right next to me. So much so, that when she lays down, she prefers to be touching me with either her head or her paw.  I swear its because she likes to feel my heartbeat.  See, told you.

I know I'm not alone, because I know plenty of dog obsessed people.  They baby talk their dogs, just as I do.  They give them birthday and Christmas gifts.  They let them lick their faces.  They let them sleep with them in their bed (we don't normally do this, but it occassionaly does happen).  They give them human food.  They leave the TV on when they leave, or in my parents' case, the Christian radio station on. Because you know Miller loves the calming voices. :)  

Speaking of Miller, he's the reason for me morphing from a cat person to a dog person.  Like I revealed earlier, I was deathly afraid of dogs when I was 6.  I was attacked by a neighbor's black lab.  He was a mean ol dog, and I was an innocent girl holding a jump rope.  I was forever changed.  That is until we rescued Miller from the free box at Albertson's.  I was 18 and home for Thanksgiving break from college.  My brother and I were going to the store to get beer I think, or so the story goes.  We were headed back to the car and I turn around and Zach is holding the cutest fur ball I've ever seen.  He barfed on me twice on the way home, and his breath smelled sooo bad.  After going through "beer" names, we decided Miller was the perfect name for this "champagne of dogs".   My mom immediately said we needed to take him back because Zach lived in a tiny apartment in Pullman that didn't allow dogs.  My dad tried to convince my mom that Miller wasn't going to get very big, but anyone that saw his giant paws knew differently.  Zach soon realized he couldn't take care of Miller as much as Miller deserved, so he went on a short "stay" with my parents.  That stay has now lasted 12 years.  You thought I was the youngest Broyles child?  Nope.  Miller has officially taken over that title.  He has a lot of "issues" including being allergic to....wait for it.....GRASS. He also has a little OCD/Anxiety, so he wears a T-shirt whenever we leave him in the house (because we can't stick him in the yard because of his allergies).  But through all the medicine, special food and special attention this guy needs, he has healed me of my debilitating fear.  I can now trust dogs again and not climb up the nearest tall person whenever I see one. (not joking)  He has also made me realize that border collies are the way to go.  They are loyal, sweet, and very smart breeds. 

Miller Boy in his T-shirt.  Soooo stinkin cute.


They really do love being around each other. 

Best buds

Hilarious. She loves to lay like this. 
But this was right after we got this bed. 

There you have it.  The first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem.  So I guess I'm not quite in recovery yet. I want to be "that girl".  And Lola certainly loves that girl. 

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

2013=Year of the Wifey

Do you remember my 2011 resolution?  It was a crazy one. I decided to do or not do a particular thing each month.  For example, January I abstained from alcohol. February - No cable TV, March - No meat. I actually stuck to it each month, which is a first in terms of New Years Resolutions for me.  I really wanted to do it in 2012, but at the same time, I needed a break from the constant focus needed to succeed. I thought about doing a video blog everyday of 2013, but thought about how extremely boring that would be for any viewer.  I also thought about journaling everyday, but then I realized thats kind of what this blog is, and I don't have to stick with the everyday thing.  So, after finally getting a chance to look around my house (instead of looking down at a ball of yarn I'm about to turn into a beard) I have figured out what 2013 has in store for me.

I'm not that into interior decorating.  Obviously for those who have entered the Harrington House.  But that doesn't mean I can't get into it.  Its just that normally my time at home after work is spent on crocheting.  And watching *Catfish the TV show (or insert any show, really).

My biff Jenny is super into interior decorating, as obvious to those who have entered the Purington House. Or those even driving by.  So, when she had a party for her 3 year old a couple weeks ago, Hottie Hubs noticed how awesome her house looked/felt.  And he let it be known to Jenny that I needed help.  Well duh, I already knew this.  Didn't hurt my feelings at all when she told me what he said to her in private, because I know this about myself.  And I'm ready to take this project on.

I think of it like I think of my wardrobe.  Back in the day, I didn't have a "wardrobe".  I had clothes that fit.  And kept me warm.  That was about the extent of my thinking for what clothes meant to me.  Now, I have aquired quite the closet, complete with accessories.  Now it takes me longer to get ready, but I get compliments on how I look, and that makes me feel good!  It took practice and time, but now I like getting dressed for work and choosing the best earrings for the day.

I'm going to take 2013 on as a interior decorating year.  And I will showcase the Befores and Afters in all their glory right here, in my little blognest.

Pretty much every room needs work. When we moved in, we did a little painting, and remodeled the kitchen (which needed it asap), put carpet in the basement and called er a day.  It's kind of embarrasing really, to think that I'm 30 and still haven't put my "womanly touch" (a term I've heard thrown in my house around a few times) on my house.  I love that Pinterest is a thing now, because I've already stolen  many ideas for what I'm going to do! I plan on DIY-ing most of it because, well, I can DIM.

Here's my list:

(in no particular order in which work will be completed)

  • Living room:  I would like to paint the fireplace, make the mantle bigger, change out the carpet, add more pictures
  • Hallway:  Paint and add pictures
  • Bathroom 1: Floors, paint, new sink, possibly new tub, possibly paint tub
  • Bathroom 2: Add pictures as its been remodeled already
  • Master Bedroom: Pictures, new curtains
  • Rodney's Man Room: Curtains
  • Blake's Craft room: Paint, organize, pictures
  • Basement storage room: Paint floor, organize
  • Basement bathroom: add shower, mild remodel
  • Laundry room: Add pictures, shelves possibly, paint floor
  • Outside Backyard: Possibly add deck??? 
Pretty much gonna make this house a home after 8 years. Bout ding dang time Blake.

*Have YOU SEEN this show?!?! Wowie. Its a gem. Just when I was needing something new on my Roku to watch, here came Catfish the TV show. I promise you won't want that hour of your life back. Its that good.