Good Friends Are Hard To Find

About twenty years ago, I started working as an elementary school library media specialist. I had worked for years as a public librarian, but this school environment was a whole new ball of wax. I was like a lost ball in the high weeds. And carrying the ball analogy even further, I needed someone to teach me how to play. Not only how to play, but how to play well. Contrary to some antiquated beliefs, librarians today do a whole lot more than just stamp books - we actually have to teach kids how to use a library. The Google Machine aside, at some times you just need to use the library and it's pretty helpful if you know how to do that.

And so Marion came into my life. Marion the Librarian (no, really!) had been teaching for years and had a full life yet she made time to help out a struggling new librarian who was required to have supervision her first year of internship. She kindly offered advice, dried tears when things went wrong, celebrated when things went well, stood up for me to a difficult administrator, spent hours and hours and hours with me patiently helping in every way and constantly, constantly told me I was a shining star who was going to do great.

The first time we went out to dinner together, she insisted on picking up the check. I was a young teacher in a low-paying job who had two young kids at home and a husband who was working as hard as I was to make ends meet. Her picking up the check meant that I could relax and enjoy a meal out. It meant I could just enjoy myself. It meant everything.

She did not have to do as much as she did. She was only required to spend a few hours with me. She gave willingly of much more time than was required and unfailingly had faith in me. She was sweet, kind, encouraging and became a very, very good friend.

She retired years before me but we stayed in touch and she never failed to brag to others how well her "shining star" had done.

When I finally retired, I joined the "retired librarians" group that meets for lunch monthly and we were once again having meals out together.

The other day, the group had lunch and it just happened to fall on my birthday.

When the bills come, Marion insisted on paying for my birthday meal.

Still there for me.

Still bragging about how well I have done, only now it's about my writing career.

Still buying me meals.

Still being the good friend she has been for the past two decades.

If only everyone could have a friend like this.

Home Improvement Project for the Home Improvement Project-Impaired. This Would Be ME.

I have never liked my dining room chairs. Actually, that's not accurate - I LOVE the beautiful cherry chairs that match the dining room furniture we inherited from my mother-in-law. I just never liked the material with which the chairs were covered. It was floral, it was faded, it was old and it didn't match the rug in the dining room.

So. I had one of my HOW HARD CAN IT BE moments. These moments rarely turn out well because the answer to HOW HARD CAN IT BE is usually PRETTY DAMN HARD. But I was on a mission. I could recover those chairs myself! I could pick out material and order it and cover them all by myself! HOW HARD COULD IT BE. My first stumbling block came at the upholstery store where I learned just how expensive upholstery material can be. Then I realized what I really wanted was just some simple navy fabric and maybe I could buy a few yards of that. So I had to find a fabric store, which I wasn't even sure existed anymore but guess what? They totally do!

I found the perfect, very inexpensive navy fabric and had the fabric store cut me a big piece. I had the unusual foresight to take of the chair seat and bring it with me to the store so they could tell me just how much I needed. The rather snippy sales person refused to cut small pieces for me and just sniffed and stared disdainfully when I told her it is physically impossible for me to cut straight. So I bought some tailor's chalk and figured I can do this. Don't forget HOW HARD CAN IT BE.

She did sigh and bring herself to tell me how long I should cut the pieces so I measured carefully, drew a line with my chalk and cut the pieces. The original material had been tacked on with little nails but I thought a staple gun would work better and easier and I was correct. Even though it did technically take me 1/2 hour to figure out how to get the staples INTO the staple gun.

I wasn't sure how to make the material stay in place so I got out some strapping tape and taped it on while I stapled, but that wasn't really necessary. Once you start stapling, it pretty much stays in place. So, here's how to do it. And you know what? HOW HARD CAN IT BE this time was actually PRETTY DAMN EASY.

Here's the chair with the original flowered pad. Needs work!

The chair bottoms are just held on with screws and pop right off.

There were lots of staple gun choices - I got one that was fairly small and easy to manage. I could actually staple with one hand, which was handy since I could hold the material with the other hand.

You can still see the tape I thought I would need - I didn't even use it on the next chair. I cut more material off the next time too and this helped the material to lie even smoother.

I had a little issue when I got ready to put the first chair back together and realized I had covered over the screw holes with material! So, um. Don't do that.

Voila! Much more navy in real life than it looks in the picture, so I was pretty pleased with myself.

Here's a finished chair. Love the way it matches the navy in the rug.

And here's the two chairs together so you can compare. Much better, huh?

HOW HARD CAN IT BE. Seriously. NOT. THAT. HARD.

The Veritable Cutting Edge of Fashion

When I first started back into writing this blog, I had one commenter who said they couldn't wait until I started writing about fashion again. If my daughter saw that comment, she was probably rolling in the floor laughing, or ROFL for those who are in the know on the mobile acronyms which I am not.

I had quite enough acronyms when I was in education to last me a lifetime so I'll just be writing everything out in proper grammar with proper capitalization and proper punctuation. And now I'll just take my cane and go touch up my blue hair rinse, thankyouverymuch.

Oh. And when I just had a teeny-tiny brain impasse (don't you hate those) and COULD NOT think of the word for punctuation, I went to The Google Machine and typed in "using the proper..." and it came up with punctuation as a choice.

The Google Machine is certainly helpful for us old folks. Although you might be taking your life in your hands when you ask for help, because it also came up with:

using properties of parallel lines
using properties in exponents
using propertyplaceholderconfiguer

and I have no idea what any of those even MEAN. The Google Machine is a grand humbler.

Anyway. About the fashion. This is not a fashion blog, although I couldn't tell you exactly what sort of blog it is, unless it's a stream-of-consciousness-daily-life-humor-whatever-the-hell-pops-out-of-my-brain-at-any-given-moment blog and I'm not sure there's a specific category for that.

But I do love fashion. Or at least, I love clothes and I'm not sure that's precisely the same thing. I always have loved clothes.

If it wasn't so much trouble, I would go dig out my junior high school yearbook where I was voted The Neatest Dresser and show you how nicely every pair of knee socks matched every sweater which coordinated perfectly with my plaid skirts.

Oh, and don't forget the penny loafers. With a shiny new penny in each one. THE CUTTING EDGE OF FASHION, don't you know.

I would show you a picture of my jeans so you could appreciate they style but (brace yourself) we DIDN'T WEAR JEANS back then. If a girl had worn jeans to school...well. My word, (get the blue hair rinse) that was just not done.

I don't think they even sold jeans in the juniors department back then. It wasn't until I was in high school that I wore jeans to school for the first time. They were bell bottoms with big white buttons on the front, like sailors wore.

And now I have to apologize to The Google Machine because WHERE ELSE could you find a photo of the jeans you wore in high school?

Picture them with even bigger white buttons and there you have it.

It's amusing to think about what my principal would have done if I had showed up wearing the skinny jeans and flats I am wearing now. Probably spanked me and sent me home to change into a dress. I am SO not kidding. We won't even get into a discussion about my sorority in college where we not only could NOT wear jeans to dinner, we had to wear a dress. True story.

And because of the magic that is Facebook and the 1971 Freehold High School Senior Class group, I can show you what I looked like wearing those jeans.

Thank God my teeth are straight now. But I would KILL for that smooth, unlined, high school face.


So this long introduction and segue into 70's fashion (Imagine having a conversation with me in person. It's much like this.) was to tell you about this great web site with darling clothes called Mod Cloth. And, just to be perfectly clear, they are not giving me any free clothes so I will write about them. Although I would not be averse to that. I am not cheap, but I can be bought. Preferably with cute new clothes.

I discovered them a while back when I bought a perfectly DARLING new bathing suit. It's kind of a forties-style that fits like a dream and is so flattering. It comes in a bunch of colors and, although I already have a red and a polka-dot, I am sorely tempted by the yellow. MUST. HAVE. CONTROL.

If you click on any of the pictures in this post, it will take you to the right place to order if you want.

I am heading to the Caribbean in the spring (insert requisite SQUEE here), so when I saw this dress, I had to order it.

I had a whole scenario worked out in my head for this dress which involved hair twisted up on top of my head in some loose but completely fabulous style, strappy black sandals and a suntan while holding a Tequila Sunrise in one hand and gazing into the sunset. What, you don't make up stories about your clothes? Um. Me either. I LOVE this dress - the fit, the material - but it runs a little small, so keep that in mind if you order.

I was going to show you some cute tops from this site but then I realized I haven't actually bought any tops from them (YET), so instead I'll tell you that the day after Christmas, my daughter and I were at Old Navy, where I might possibly have bought about 4,921 summer tops which were so fabulous, I just couldn't help myself. And who else did NOT know that Old Navy and Gap were the same company? This is news to me.

This little silky top was calling my name from the rack and it is so flattering and comfortable, I was forced to buy it. How cute will that be with white shorts while I am strolling on the beach with my hair tossed by the ocean breeze and possibly some wild horses grazing in the distance. Yes. I might JUST possibly get carried away with my clothes daydreams. The site describes it as Cotton but I just went to check mine and it's a very silky, silky Cotton, not a stiff Cotton.

Same thing with this one - it's soft and silky. I got it in cream, which will go with everything.

Another thing I didn't realize (I really need to shop more. Ha! HaHaHaHaHa!) is that Old Navy has DARLING shoes. I knew they had flip-flops but cute flats? No idea. I might possibly have bought two pair of taupe flats that might LOOK alike but are completely different. COMPLETELY.

These are described as "Pom-Pom Flats" which could you die? I love that description.

These are Embellished Ballet Flats which, as you can see, even though they are also taupe flats are COMPLETELY DIFFERENT in every way and I had to buy both. Somehow, my husband never gets this concept and might think I only needed one pair. As if.

I didn't link the shoes to the web site because, unfortunately, these shoes are not available in every size, but they have lovely new spring colors here and here.

Now I have to admit to a little embarrassment because I just spent a great deal of time on the Old Navy site looking for one of the fabulous little tops I bought and was getting really annoyed with Old Navy because dammit where were those tops I had bought before I realized that I had actually bought that particular top at Gordman's. Um. Oops. Too much shopping? NO. SUCH. THING.

I just went to the Gordman's site to get you the info and realized, to my shock and amazement, that they do not have online ordering. Gordman's, get with the 21ST CENTURY. SERIOUSLY. So I had to get one of my tops, take a picture with my iPhone, email it to myself, wait for the email, save the picture and put it on here instead of just copying and pasting. It's like I'm working in the STONE AGE here.

YOU'RE WELCOME.

The brand is "Spense", it was $17.99 (regularly $48!) and comes in several colors. It's silky and lovely. You need to to go Gordman's right now and buy some. In a sidenote, I actually tried to find "Spense" online to link to the tops and The Google Machine found that SPENSE means "Study of Personnel Needs in Special Education". See what I mean about the education acronyms?

So, there you have it. Dresses, tops, shoes. What more could you need?

Except maybe a pair of bell bottom jeans with big white buttons which are actually back in style again. I should totally have saved that pair. Only they might JUST possibly not fit anymore.

Possibly.

Before and After

When I was writing about hot chocolate the other day, it reminded me of the best hot chocolate I have ever had IN MY LIFE. It was when we visited the Eiffel Tower. We were cold, we were damp, we were tired. And we wanted a hot drink. So we ordered hot chocolate. Like everything else in Paris (cheese; tiny, tart oranges; strawberry tarts; fresh croissants) it was delicious. Beyond compare.



And when I think about that experience, I realize my life has shifted. Before hot chocolate on the Eiffel Tower. And after.



Before, I had never been to Paris. Now I have. I had never been to Europe, never cruised on the Rhine, the Mosel and The Seine. Now I have. Never tasted sparkling wine on a river cruise ship bedecked with Christmas lights as we cruised along with the sun setting red and gold and purple in the sky. Now I have. Never had a meal in a castle, walked streets hundreds of years old, bought a scarf in Germany, saw a windmill in the middle of a green, green field. Now I have.



My life is different now. I have had hot chocolate on the Eiffel Tower.



And this is why I travel.



That before and after.



Because without the before? You can't really appreciate the after.

Undecorating Is Not NEARLY As Much Fun As Decorating

So, I finally got all the Christmas decorations taken down. And it only took me one entire day out of my life. Geez. The tree, the ornaments, the lights, the candles, the poinsettias, the things that sit around and have no purpose but to look nice, the Christmas tablecloth, the...anyway. All down.



I started taking down the tree and the frakkin' lights were completely tangled around one of the branches so I kept jerking and pulling and finally I just took the whole branch off the tree. It's fake, needless to say. I set that branch aside and proceeded to take off the 3,981 ornaments I had on the tree, along with the 8,741 lights. At least, it certainly seemed like that many.



Then I had to take the tree apart and put it in the box and put the box back in the storage closet, along with the other 5,981 boxes of Christmas decorations and the empty present boxes that, of course, I will forget I have next year so I will get a bunch more at the stores and put this into an endless loop and you have my day.



Then in goes all the luggage into the packed storage closet last because, of course, we will be traveling before next Christmas and will need to get them out and then I was DONE.



Everything is all neat and organized and I am just the MOST ORGANIZED PERSON ALIVE.


Until I come back upstairs and see that one branch I pulled off the Christmas tree still lying on the floor.

Back to Real Life and Pants Without Elastic in the Waist

I just had a cup of hot chocolate from my new Keurig coffee maker and let me right here and now give a shout-out to my sister-in-law who insisted that my husband would LOVE this coffee maker when we were out Christmas shopping.

I was hesitant since we already had a perfectly good coffee maker but she praised the Keurig so highly and I needed ideas for presents since he had never technically given me a Christmas list that I bought it. His idea of a Christmas list is on Christmas Eve when he says something like "Oh, by the way, I need some sweatshirts. Did you buy me some sweatshirts for Christmas"?

He used to do something similar when we went on trips where the night before he would mention that OH YEAH he needed some new underwear. I'm wise to him now. I pack his suitcase days in advance so he can't spring any underwear surprises on me. And now that I have written the phrase "underwear surprises" I keep envisioning a variety of situations where that phrase would be accurate which might or might not include someone dancing with underwear on their head. And now I have to make it clear that he has never, ever, ever danced with underwear on his head. I just have a vivid imagination.

So. Hot Chocolate. And the Keurig coffee maker. It is at this point that the clouds should part, you should hear an angelic choir singing and a single ray of bright golden sunlight should beam down to bathe my Keurig coffee maker in a glow. Because? I frakkin' love that thing.

I am not a coffee drinker. That stuff is naaaaasty. No matter how much caramel or chocolate or whipped topping and cinnamon sprinkles you put on it, it's STILL COFFEE. Coffee drinkers do not get this. They are all "Taste it! It's so good! You will LOOOOVE it". Uh, yeah. NO. I will not love it. I hate coffee.

Hot chocolate, on the other hand, is TO DIE FOR. Good hot chocolate with whipping topping on it. I knew that the Keurig was capable of making other drinks in addition to coffee. You buy these little K-cups that fit into the machine, it runs hot water through them and you can make hot chocolate, hot tea, even hot apple cider. I didn't really think it would be good. But I was willing to give it a try.

On Christmas day, we set up the Keurig and I proceeded to make hot chocolate for the entire family to go along with the festive platter of homemade Christmas cookies and candy I had made. This was about the time the ray of sunlight began to bathe the Keurig in a golden glow which has not dissipated yet. I learned to put a little milk in the cup and heat it first in the microwave, then add the hot chocolate. I learned that whipped topping is absolutely necessary for the perfect cup.

It was so good and delicious and wonderful and filling that I actually just had hot chocolate for breakfast one day. And then I was all "I never had any breakfast! This is great! Think of all the Weight Watcher points I am saving"! Because even though I realize you are supposed to eat a healthy breakfast, those Christmas cookies and candies have settled right in, realized they have a good home in my stomach and thigh fat and are planning on a very, very long visit. So less points = smaller thighs. This is the kind of math equation I can live with.

So, this morning after I had my cup of delicious hot chocolate, as I was licking the whipped topping off my lips, I decided it was about time to start tracking with Weight Watcher again. Vacation was over and it was time to take down the Christmas tree and get serious about wearing some real pants instead of flannel sleeping pants with an elastic waist.

I got out the Dark Chocolate k-cups box and the whipped topping container and opened the Weight Watcher site. And then I had the most crushing disappointment of the Christmas season right next to trying on my new, annual Christmas pajamas and finding they didn't fit. (No, they were too BIG.) My fabulous, delicious and weight-conscious cup of hot chocolate? That I was drinking to cut back on the points? Was 4 frakkin' points.

How ANNOYING. This is quite a setback. I might actually have to stop drinking hot chocolate every single morning. Or possibly make it without the whipped topping. Or the milk. Or wait! I just checked the canned whipped topping and it has 0 points! OK, fat-free milk...canned whipped topping. I can do this.

Or maybe I can just exercise a little more. Hmmm...50 minutes of walking is about 4 points.

See you later!

You Want WHAT At The Grocery?

Now, to fully appreciate this post, you have to understand that my husband loves his iPhone.

Like, LOVES. IT.

It is his favorite thing, next to the TV remote that allows him to skip in 30-second increments past the commercials. Which sounds really good except when I might actually want to SEE a commercial which is rare but does happen. Don't even get me started on how much I love the guy kissing the giraffe commercial.

WHAT? You haven't seen it? That's OK because with the magic that is The Google Machine, I can show it to you.



You KNOW that is hilarious. But. I hardly ever get to see it because of the 30-second skip.

Anyway. The iPhone.

Instead of just making a grocery list using pen and paper like most NORMAL people, he insists on emailing his grocery list to me. Which means I have to get out MY iPhone (of course I have one, my whole frakkin' family has one) and read my email at the grocery store so I can find out what he wants me to buy. This used to be a real pain in the ass but I have gotten used to it now.

So when I was at the grocery the other day, I got out my iPhone and checked his grocery list. Usually he just has a few things on it like ice cream and orange juice but this list looked exceptionally long. I started reading through it and was surprised he wanted so many things, including every kind of battery made and then I saw it.

Bok Choy.

And I knew something was wrong. I'm not saying he doesn't eat vegetables but the likelihood of him putting Bok Choy on his grocery list is right up there with...well. Him making a pen and paper grocery list for me. In other words. Pretty remote.

I read further down and finally had to call him. "Have you looked at the grocery list you sent me"?

Come to find out, he had accidentally sent me the entire list of groceries available on the grocery list making app.

This does not happen when you use pen and paper. When you use pen and paper you only get a list of what you actually want at the grocery. Which, while theoretically might include Bok Choy? Probably does not.

But I don't think it will discourage his iPhone use one iota. Not one teeny iota.

He just might have to pay more attention when he is making his grocery list instead of busily skipping through commercials.

And just let me watch that precious giraffe.

Oh, go on and watch it again.

You know you want to.

True Love

I was just watching some of those Christmas jewelry store commercials on TV. You know, the ones where the guy is all romantic and presents his girl with some beautiful bauble in some beautifully perfect setting with perfect lighting and she's all moved and emotional.

Yeah.

That will never happen to me.

But.

He came home today and broke the ice off the front porch with his workboots and went and got the mail and gave it to me so I wouldn't go outside and fall and break my tookus.

And that's pretty damn cool too.

I Totally Think He Could Fly A Helicopter If He Just Had A Little Time to Familiarize Himself with the Controls.

So, with all this Arctic-like weather we have been having, Tom decided to stay home and work the other day. I find this very pleasant, him working at the dining room table with blueprints spread everywhere as I tap away on my computer keys in the adjoining living room. It's quite cozy.

He was making a phone call at some point, though, that made me remove my nimble fingers from the keys and just listen. It was something like this. "You have to program the gizmo and hook it to the doohicky and then run it through the flux capacitor or it just won't work".

Um. Yeah. I have no idea what he was talking about. But the point is, that he did. He knows all kinds of stuff about how things work and how to put things together. We were watching TV the other night and the characters were concerned because their walkie-talkie was not working. The guy said he could make the GPS in the walkie work and he asked for a piece of gum. Tom said casually "He's going to use the gum wrapper to make a connection". And the guy took the gum wrapper and made a connection so the GPS would work. Just like frakkin' MacGyver.

Seriously? Who knows stuff like that? My husband, that's who. He could figure out how to make anything work, he could probably build a log cabin and he knows all about guns.

So here's the thing. He is absolutely the perfect person to have around when the Zombie Apocalypse comes.

And I? I can write a story about having hot chocolate at the Eiffel Tower or teach some kids how to use the library - hardly important jobs when the zombies come.

I thought seriously about this the other night and we discussed it and he agreed that when they ask him to help deal with the Zombie Apocalypse?

His one condition is that I come along.

And that right there?

Is precisely one of the reasons why we stay married.

Just Say No To Candy Cane Hersey Kisses

First, let me say that the whole point of this post was the Candy Cane Hershey Kisses so I used the Google Machine and this is what it told me.

Showing results for candy cane hershey kisses. Search instead for candy cane hersey kisses

Seriously? It wants me to search for hersey kisses instead. The name of the company is HERSHEY, Google. Get with it.

And also? Who knew that Hersey made so many different holiday kisses? Mint truffle? Cherry cordial creme? GOOD LORD.

So, in case you haven't guessed, I haven't been to Yoga class in about six weeks. I do have a pretty good excuse, as I have been gallivanting all over Europe. Although I have been back for a couple of weeks. And could probably have squeezed in a class or two in between my numerous radio interviews.

Oh, yes. I am totally a radio personality now. Although I am getting mixed responses: one host kept me on for 45 minutes and the other axed me after about 5. So, basically the first host is the one with the good taste. Of course.

So, gallivanting. I have also not been to my Weight Watcher class in about six weeks as well. Same excuse, although now I can add to that the fact that we changed debit cards and the Weight Watcher online site does not like my new card and tells me I will have to re-enroll. And, apparently, while I was gallivanting (I LOVE that word), Weight Watcher changed their entire program so I will have to relearn how many points all my favorite items contain. Like M & M Blizzards.

Um. I mean apples. Yeah. Apples.

So, while all this unhealthy living is going on and my butt spreads wider and wider because of the lack of exercise and the lack of Weight Watcher accountability, I just found Candy Cane Hershey Kisses at Target the other day.

I idly noticed them while I was in line and I thought (seriously) those would look really pretty in my candy dish for Christmas! All striped and candy-cane like and all. So I bought them.

You know the expression about the road to hell, right?

I put those kisses in my candy dish. So pretty! Just perfect.

Then I decided I might just try one.

And this was my downfall.

One led to two then ten and then the entire bag was gone.

Then I made the mistake of putting on Facebook how good those little suckers were and Tom is all "Oh, Candy Cane Hershey Kisses? Can I have some?".

Uh.

No.

Because I ate them all.

So, I went to Yoga class today and Weight Watchers and I'm all serious about getting healthy and weight loss and stuff.

Oh, who am I kidding.

I went to Kroger and bought two bags of Candy Cane Hershey Kisses.

Because I'm afraid when he eats one, he'll want to share my bag.

No way sucker.

Eat your own bag.