Wednesday, November 29, 2006

Snow days

We had about an inch or two of snow the day before yesterday. So of course, they cancelled school, this being Washington State, the side of the mountains not used to anything more than slushy rain and being without snow removal or ice melting capacities. Now, I expected this. Then I woke up this morning. Clear skies. No school. It is cold out, you see, so the stuff on the roads turned to ice. Yes everyone still went to work, but no schools, and apparently, the trash removal people got the day off, because our trash has yet to be picked up. I figure, okay, two days off, cool, tomorrow she will be in school. Then I went to the grocery store.

There was no milk. No whole milk. No 2 percent milk. No fat free milk. No lactose intolerant people milk. Why, not even a soy milk.

So I went home and checked the weather report.

Now, my good friend over at More Gravy will totally understand why, upon noticing the one thing, I checked the other. And sure enough, tonight's forecast calls for snow showers.

Not a lot of snow showers mind you. Not the New-England-Blizzard-store-up-the-soup-and-get-the-sleds-out snow showers, or the Colorado-is-buried-again-roads-are-closed-til-spring snow showers, no, Just a night of snowfall. And yet, all the milk is gone. Which of course, means that Drama will have no school tomorrow.

This brings me to my gripe. My entire justification for being okay about moving to Colorado is the snow. The lack of seasons here (and the lack of nice people, I know they are here somewhere, you can't have an entire state of not nice neighbors and people, but for the life of me I haven't found them). And now it snowed.

See people, this is what I mean about Washington, it messes with you.

So all i have to do really, in situations like this, is reiterate what M. one of my friends back in Virginia said to me, quite a few times: Well, if it's so great out there, why does it have one of the highest suicide rates in America?

Which, apparently, statistically, isn't true, but they are a moodier lot, so I can see why people would think that.

Wednesday, November 22, 2006


We don't know what u-hoos are, but we know that Bear took Turbo's u-hooos, pronouced ooo like in oooze without the ze.

In other news, I'm watching Sci-Fi's ghost hunters. Now, I do believe in ghosts, however, I seriously doubt that Sci-Fi's ghost hunters have ever actually filmed a ghost on tv, heard one, or convinced me with their crazy creepy music and green-light film, and silly conversations with ghosts, and sudden 'OMIGOSH DID YOU HEAR THAT AAAHHH' that they have.

It cracks me up.

What I would like to hear?

A ghost suddenly come on and say "Leave me alone you pestering buffoons with your silly loud gadgets..."

I mean, how do we even know that ghosties register on like, electrical richter scales or whatever the hell they use?

anyhow, it's entertaining and funny so there is that.

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

No Dallas Here

I love my husband. I do.

I will not, however, pretend to be a Cowboy's fan. I can respect the new QB. I can respect the comeback they've been making. However, I will not wear a Cowboys jersey. (Unless he buys me one and I run out of shirts because I haven't done the laundry.)

I love the Patriots. I enjoy the way some of the other teams play. But Parcells annoys me. The Cowboys annoy me. Not gonna happen.

Garage sale!

We are having our first ever garage sale in, ha ha ha, December.

I don't really know where to post 'garage sale' signs, but I think I can post one to the tree where I've seen other ones.

I also don't expect too many people to show, seeing as it's like, you know, the number one shopping day in America.

I don't actually want a garage sale. I'd rather just donate the books and craiglist the kids crap, but hey, what do I know. I'll probably hold the sale on Dec. 9, now that I think of it :).

Sunday, November 19, 2006

A more somber note

Life is transient. We often forget this is just a short journey. If birth is the begininng, and death is the end, what then? What do we find at the end of roads in life? Do they merge into other roads? Is there a place we end up at, like a child, 'are we there yet?' and then after death, do we get up and say 'am I there yet?'

Like so many other bloggers, I've been following this blog. He lost his beloved young wife of ten years, and mother to two children, after she was admitted to the hospital with what they thought was a bad case of the flu, but turned into a severe infection.

It's a reminder to listen to those who preach that jobs, cars, homes, clothes, toys, things, credit ratings can be bought, replaced, fixed, recovered, but people, and their lives, are precious, and oftentimes, dwelling on jobs, cars, homes, clothes, toys, we forget the people that do matter most in our lives.

Most importantly, it's a man sharing the most profound grief, and a lot of pain, with a world of strangers, a journal that consistently pays tribute to his wife while dealing with the day-to-day, one-thing-at-a-time, world that won't stop turning, won't wait, for him. As he said, tomorrow still comes. Today is Sunday, tomorrow will be Monday, then it will be Tuesday, and it goes on.

So my thoughts are with him, and though they may not be much, maybe thoughts do count for something.

Procrastionation, again.

I'm procrastinating on my homework. It's management accounting, and while I did well the first half of the class, stress with the whole 'employment challenged' thing with my husband caused me to totally blow off the second half, so the final and the essay are going to be um, very challenging. At least the class is almost over!

I'm super looking forward to Colorado, but the truth is, until we finish the floors and stairs and get rid of the junk, I'm not really thinking about it. I envision us being there in March.

But, our house is in turmoil right now, so it's hard to be all like 'yeah we're selling the house and leaving.' I'm going to alleviate that next week by packing some of the boys toys up and moving more stuff into the garage where McRed will be doing dump trips and putting all the 'sell/get rid of/packed stuff.

The good news is, where I live, seems to be one of the cities that have lower inventory and higher demand, because it's slowly turning posh. There is only one other home for sale in our neighborhood.

I will feel better once the house is on the market, Dec. 1.

Friday, November 17, 2006


If you've seen my one roll of packing tape, please tell me where it is.

Thursday, November 16, 2006

Seriously, kid, we are moving

I went through her room and cleaned it (three big hefty black trash bags later) and as she wandered up the stairs and into her room after school she asks, "Did you throw anything away?" Now, she came home and saw two hefty trash bags in the entry with some of her things protruding. There was a big open black trash bag in her room which I hastily shut. I looked her straight in the eye and said "No, not at all."
I think she chose to believe it, because challenging me would only result in a lengthy discussion about why I had to clean her room, and what the three trash bags included...

It's not yet real to my tween that we are indeedy moving. I mean, it's there, looming on the horizon, but kids live in the present. This is why it's hard for her to accept that she and the boys are switching rooms. Not because we are giving away her room, but because as soon as the house goes up for sale, it's not her room. It's a show room. Half her things will be packed away. We are switching rooms because her room is bigger and the boys beds and bureau will fit without looking weird. She threw a fit and pointed out how she didn't want to move. Not really an option. I'm not even sure how she got the bigger room. I mean really.

So McRed is doing floors and I'm still packing and purging. Ugh. I need to do some serious packing this weekend. I'm surrounded by books and books and aaahhh.

I can't believe I'm saying this, but I can't wait til February. I want to skip the entire holiday season this year. It's just in the way....

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Pack -n- Purge Week

Hubby and I could start our own relocation business.
We got some maybe good news. His new company is trying to get him a corporate move rate... sweet.

This is "Move to Colorado" Stage One.

This week is pack -n- purge. We packed-n-purged the hall closet. Do you know how many shoes you will never wear again lurk there, along with the one-half of a pair of gloves, too-small winter hats and the Thomas the Tank water shoe your train-obsessed son has been looking for for three days and has now worn consecutively for four? (Blame his brother who stole the first pair and taunted him with it).

I purged the Master Bedroom closet (look, lets face it, I'm never going to be a size 8 in the next three years, see, I'm not saying never ever, I'm saying never for a while) and by then my size 8s will not be in style anymore. I'm also never going to wear that blue and white striped throwback to the 80's shirt. Gone. Gone. Gone.

We've purged our books.

We've purged toys.

We're purging Drama's room one day while she's in school. (Yes, good parents with compassion involve their tween in the process, but we're evil bad parents who don't want to deal with the emotional drama involved in throwing away a torn, half-the-pages-missing book and several headless barbie bodies along with creative artwork involving old clothing tags and cardboard...I occasionally think the original packrat has been reincarnated in my daughter) We purged hubby's GASP Dungeons and Dragons Memorabilia OH HORRORS yes. We are going to try to sell and then toss what we don't. Anyone want some D&D boxes sets cheap? How about some first, second and third edition D&D books? Will ship.... GASP HOW COULD YOU WOMAN? Yep. It's that time, time to let the past, which easily weighs 300 pounds and would rack up our moving bill, go.

We're also (Hubby) purging three computers. Yes, we have a total of eight computers in this house. Two laptops for mom and dad, one desk pc for me, two for Hubby (Seriously, I know. Do you think I bought all this electronic crap? I mean, 8? And he needs two on his desk and a laptop? You so don't have to tell me. And all this AFTER he told me he was done building computers.) and one for Drama. We were going to do two for the boys, but have decided they can wait on their own personal computers and share with sissy for a while. NewEgg will be getting a shipment from us soon.

I'm trying to get our books down to two boxes... AHHH HA HA ha ha ha

After this week, it's home improvement time. Now, while I"m doing most of the pack -n- purge, have no fear, for home improvement is all about the Hubby. Go McRed, Go. Do that floor. Get that carpet. Muahahah.

Friday, November 10, 2006

The News

After pretending to like the Seattle area for the past couple of years, I can now come out. I can come out, because, we're leaving. Packin' it up. Haulin' out. Hitchin' the Wagons back up. We're moving to Colorado.

So I am free now to say I don't like it. It's not that there's anything bad about it. I can see why lots and lots and lots of people do like it. I just don't. I like the rain. What I didn't realize is, get this, I miss, the COLD. I need four seasons. I can't do with just three. spring and fall being one, a long rainy winter that meshes with rainy springs and rainy falls, and a few weeks of blistering heat in the summer. I miss snow. I miss crisper falls. I want more foliage. I want to see my breath more than one month out of the year. No, this doesn't mean you should ship me off to Wisconsin, though I've been there and it's really pretty and where we discovered our love of log cabin homes, and I've already been to North Dakota, and I liked North Dakota, so that should tell you something. And I'm sorry, I am too lazy to 'just drive an hour to the snow' I want it to land on my porch.

I'm a cozy, cuddly, sweaters and long tees kinda gal. I want slippers. I love L.L. Bean clothing. It never really gets cold here. I can't justify shearling slippers and thermals. Seattle is great, unless you're the type who likes to be cold and miserable, which I am. It's not Seattle, it's me. Seriously. I've lived in places where I've clicked, and places where I haven't. I haven't clicked here. I clicked with Virginia, though honestly it could do with a bit more snow. I clicked with England. I clicked with North Dakota even. Okay I may not have clicked with North Dakota, but we had a blast while it lasted. Like, you know, one of those things that happened and you really enjoyed it but you knew it couldn't last... and yes, I left a friend up there, and she thinks North Dakota is a bastard, so you know I'm right...

Anyhow, I was sure we'd get on, Seattle and me. Shoot, on paper we do. Rain. Love rain. Gardens. Love gardens. Ports. Love ports. Coffee. Runs through my veins. So you see, it seemed right. I'm still not entirely sure what went wrong. It just wasn't meant to be. It's just one of those things. No matter how badly you wanted it to work, it just never could. And that's what happened. So I would recommend Seattle, to others, you know, becuase we can still be friends. It's not like Massachusetts, you know. Some relationships just can never be worked out.

Now there are things I will miss about this area. Good things. Like the fact that I live in the Starbucks Nexus. Never have I ever been in want of a cup of coffee. The amazing community programs the town I live in has. The really nice teachers at my kid's school. The curb appeal of most homes, because of the state law which requires all Northwesterners to be garden fanatics. Things like that.

But there are things my husband and I have realized about ourselves, when we sat down when all the shittola hit the fannola and the crappolla started. We hate his commute. We, it turns out, actually like each other, so his hour long commute in the morning and evening makes us miserable. He comes home, eats, watches the Daily Show and that's it for the night folks. The kids don't see him as much and there's no way he can ever make Drama's gymnastics or any of the games the boys would eventually play in. The inaffordability of housing makes living close to his work not possible. The other thing we learned, he likes to be cold and miserable too. He misses snow, and can't wait to snowblow his first driveway. He enjoyed snowblowing our driveway in North Dakota, but I think it was the novelty really. Of course, when we do have a new driveway to snowblow, we can do a 'how many snowstorms til he's sick of it' kinda poll. So it's off to cozy snow land for us, land of Blizzards and Broncos. Now, I'm not like, a big fan of blizzards, I don't think, oooh a blizzard, I want to go there, I'm just saying, I like weather.

So here's what I'm looking forward to. White Christmases. I grew up with them, and I think when you, as a child, have White Christmases, the lack of them makes you just a little sad. Seeing my breath on the air. Crisp, cold air hitting my face. Warm fires to cuddle by. A legitimate reason to wear bulky sweaters, effectively camoflauging the winter pounds. The joy of watching my children the eve of every snowfall, giddily hoping for school cancellations. The exuberance when the cold ice and snow starts to melt and while it's still cold, you can smell spring in the air, on that first warm wind in March, followed by the shocking snowstorm April 2nd (though that may just be a New England thing). Summers that last just long enough to be missed, and springs that burst from cold, hard ground into beautiful early blooms.


Anyone wanna buy a house in the Seattle area?


I do not expect people from warmer climates to understand this desire to be cold and miserable, or the longing for white Christmases. Just like I can't understand the desire to live somewhere with sweltering humidity, like Georgia, where my little brother lives, and will probably never leave. I also don't expect people who live in Seattle to understand why we couldn't just be.

Thursday, November 09, 2006

Big News

We have big news out here.

And we're not telling anyone yet.

Well that's not true, we told a few people, relatives and all that.

But there is news.

Dummm duh dum dum