July Fourth

I'm really excited about this 4th of July weekend....

1. I'm a deeply patriotic person and July 4th is one of my favorite holidays.  It celebrates the birth of our nation, at it's core our very independence and all that represents and the freedom so many have sacrificed for so that I may enjoy.  And face it, when else is it acceptable to let small children play with Chinese explosives?    Let's hope everyone emerges with all fingers and body parts intact again this year.  And since aerial fireworks are banned just about everywhere in our area, maybe our teenagers won't be shooting airial shells AT each other??  And have them explode under someone's car??  Long story...

2. This weekend marks the beginning of a week-long vacation for me.  I think this is the first time David and I have both taken a whole week off at the same time in over 10 years.  Way overdue!  And in a total departure from the manically overplanned "vacation" time which is so typical for me, we have absolutely no firm plans for the week other than to enjoy some beach and fishing time together.  And Dillon is holding out for Chuck-E-Cheese one day... I will probably wind up giving in on that one?

3.  But most of all I'm looking forward to some great family time!

Our beautiful niece Courtny is coming in from Alaska tomorrow and we haven't seen her in way too long.  Courtny was raised in Matagorda and then on a very adventurous note decided to go to college in Anchorage, Alaska.   We teased her because of course on the Texas coast you wear flip-flops just about all year round and we weren't even sure she owned a pair of socks when she made this decision?  After two years in Alaska now, she's become quite acclimated and it's always fun to see her facebook posts about the weather there or some stray moose in her way when trying to get to class.  There aren't many moose native to Matagorda ya know?

Courtny of course wasn't the first of our family to head to the far reaches of "north Texas", David's sister Kelly and husband Kevin moved to Idaho close to 20 years ago.  Their  beautiful daughter Morgan was born in Idaho, but we know underneath that super snowboarding, volleyball aceing, state champ bowler exterior, she's really a Texas beach girl at heart.  They are also due in this weekend and we LOVE when they get to come down and visit and soak up that great Texas sunshine with us.  We also like to make fun of the way they say "crick" for creek and they make fun of the way I say "warsh" for wash, but that could be a whole blog in itself...

Especially since our family is starting to spread out with many of the cousins off to college, careers, and families of their own, it's always nice when a whole bunch of us can just get together and visit!   It's something I'll admit I took for granted in my younger years but really cherish more and more every year now.  (I've also discovered I now cry at weddings.  Yes, I am offiicially on the crazy old lady track.)  It's so much fun to see everyone and the great personalities they've grown into.  And of course "family" is a term we use kinda loosely too because it includes just about any good friend or relation of any of our clan along with some very dear and colorful Matagorda locals.  With this whole bunch along with any child, dog, lizard, or stray friends they happen to bring along too, there's always a party going on!

4.  Also, In case you haven't noticed, I like to eat!  Any Petrosky family holiday get-together means some of the best cooking anywhere, bar none.  The guys will barbeque at least one day, we always fry fish at least once, and we'll see where it goes from there.  Some of my facebook friends remember "fried spiders" from last year?  Yep, they were DELICIOUS!  If you could get past the pokey-crunchy legs that is.  LOL  Okay, okay, they weren't really spiders they were specially prepared shrimp but you gotta live life off the beaten track occasionally.

So if I'm offline for a while, no biggie... I probably haven't blown my fingers off (or let's hope not!).  Can someone really facebook and blog with their nose or tongue in that case?  Hmmm... if there's a will, there's a way? 

Here's hoping your Fourth of July is a total BLAST!!   And for those lucky folks in the Matagorda area the next few days, stop by for a drink and say howdy.  You'll likely be part of  "the family" before you leave!   =)

Treasures

You can pick your spouse.  You can pick your friends.  You can even pick your nose.  (Ooops, sorry - I'll save that for another day.  hahaha)   You cannot however pick your coworkers.  And you cannot pick your coworkers noses.  Sorry... its just Monday.  Forgive me.

Anyway, where I was going with this was...    We wind up spending an extraordinary amount of our waking and productive hours each day surrounded by people we didn't choose.  Thank God he has a sense of humor and knows what we need in life.  I've been blessed many times over at different jobs when he sends me such a unique group of people I would never have gotten to know otherwise. 

Folks who know David and I well know that especially the past few years we've become very much creatures of habit and BORING.  Our idea of an exciting dinner is having Machs instead of McDonalds.  I mean, really??  I guess God knew I needed a little excitement because my current group of coworkers are truly fun.  They are from all over the Houston area and know lots of cool places that of course I've never been to.  For each person's birthday at work, they get to choose the place we go to lunch and I have never failed to really enjoy myself.  Today we had a birthday lunch at Barnaby's Cafe.  It was a funky little wood frame house converted into a restraurant in an interesting little Montrose neighborhood.  We were driving along...  house... house... house... whip and chain shop... house... house..  NO, I'm not kidding!  Anyway, the little restaurant had seating for about 150 and parking for about 5.  Good thing our table was near the window so I could dash outside quickly if any tow trucks approached? 

The restaurant did a neat little trick of sticking some old trivial pursuit question cards in the sugar/sweet-n-low container on the table which we had way too much fun with answering questions while waiting for our food (yes, I'm a trivial pursuit junkie from the 80's - yay!).  Of course stick me in an environment like that and I can entertain myself for hours just people-watching.  Let me just say... apparently the feathers in the hair trend is not just for ladies anymore?  heehee   I'll not even start in on the piercings and tatoos.   And the old funky nature of the building itself was interesting.  I've known places to have a slight tilt to the floors before, but their dining room was off the charts.  I wonder if they grease that thing up before the drunks come in to get a laugh or what?  We agreed the place had "character" and the food was good and inexpensive too.

I realize I've talked about a couple restaurants already and believe me I don't intend this blog to become a foodie chat but it just happens to be the most interesting thing that's happened to me so far today.  Okay, yes, I know the day is not yet over and I still may have ammunition explode in the dryer or something.  But the moral of today's story is... appreciate those different people God puts in your life, people you probably would have never chosen for yourself, because they are a treasure!  And even if you happen to be in a crappy place in life at the moment, just count it as fertilizer to bloom where you're planted.   =)

$4 Miracle

It's a miracle.  The End.

Haha.  Shortest blog ever, right?  Are you kidding?  You know me better than that....

I'll never profess to be the master homemaker, fancy chef, and most certainly never the cleaning guru.  However when I do run across something I think is really awesome I feel compelled to mention it. 

Living life in the country is not for whimps.  Example for the day:  well water.  You hearty fellow country ladies know my pain... we are always fighting those lime and rust stains from well water.  I've been without a go-to homerun product for deep cleaning that stuff since my previous one got discontinued years ago.  Why is it that when you find something you really like, the store will surely stop carrying it.  I make a special stop in Sugarland to buy my favorite salad dressing because Wharton HEB no longer carries it (despite me filling out those special request cards TWICE).  Ugh!  Anyway, meet my new miracle friend:

This stuff has probably been around for years and I just haven't tried it, but I am totally loving it now.  It's less than $4 on the bottom shelf at HEB by the bathroom cleaners (but I had to buy my own spray bottle).   It works!  I've tried it on porcelain, fiberglass, plastic, and this morning did my dishwasher with it.  I've tried overpriced special dishwasher cleaners before and they barely made a difference.  On an odd impulse this morning I tried the Sanivac and Oh. My. Goodness!  I should have taken before and after pictures.  The inside of my dishwasher went from just a shade lighter brown than my dining room table to WHITE and clean with no scrubbing - just sprayed liberally, waited about 20 minutes, and then ran a cycle empty.  

The fumes are pretty stiff though, again not for whimps, but well worth losing a lung over.  Just kidding.  It's got some kinda acid in it, ventilate well and don't let the kiddos play with it.  You know the drill.

Happy Cleaning Day...     

Password Overload

I had to dial a common phone number from my land line the other day and couldn't remember the number.  I mean I drew a total blank.  If you're like me its almost embarrassing that I can't remember phone numbers anymore.  Since they are are programmed in my cell phone, which is what I use most of the time, who "dials" phone numbers anymore?  I had to look up the number on my cell phone to dial it.  I felt utterly, totally, completely foolish.

I used to have a great memory for phone numbers back in the day when we all had to remember numbers the old fashioned way.  In fact some numbers still stick.  I can flawlessly remember the phone number to my high school job even today.  Maybe that means I called in too often??  Hmmm.   But ask me what my own cell phone number is and I'm not kidding... I've had  the same number for 15 years and I may or may not remember it quickly off the top of my head.

I think it's quite possible that our previously great phone number memory is now devoted to other things like PASSWORDS.  Yuck!  Nod your head if you have more than 20 passwords.   See?  I knew I wasn't the only one.  I have passwords for my home PC, passwords for my work PC's, then 6 or 7 separate passwords to log onto systems within my work PC, passwords for banking by ATM, banking by phone, banking online, passwords for phones, passwords for voicemail, passwords for shopping and and of course accessing just about any system we encounter in daily life.  I swear sometimes I think my passwords even have passwords! 

I have this horrible haunting fear that one day I will be in a busy line at the store and draw a complete blank when I go to enter my debit card password number.  There I'll be... standing like an idiot drooling on the keyboard with a blank look... everyone behind me is slowly forming into an angry mob....  just how big a dipwad is this woman?  Come on...  Come on...   Then punch random numbers with a little prayer and hit that enter button like you're pulling the handle on a slot machine... come on baby, puuuleeezz  let this work!

Those techie password expert people tell you three main rules for passwords... 
1. Choose some odd random pattern of both small and capitol letters and numbers.  You ever get one of those computer-generated passwords??  Yeah, like I can remember THAT? 
2. Don't use the same password for multiple accounts.  Again, yeah right!  I try to use the same basic set of passwords so therefore I only have to remember some variation of about three or four passwords instead of 300 different ones.  Even then, its doubtful I will get it right on the first try.
3.  (And I really love this one...)  Never write your passwords down.  HA!  Most people I know have a cheat sheet just like I do for passwords for all their various accounts.  You seriously want to screw with my brain?  Steal my password cheat sheet.  My world would cease to turn.  Aaaahh!

Because you know that's one of those "other duties as assigned" Momma job duties, right?  You not only have to remember your own passwords, you have to be the holy keeper of the passwords of the home.  That means your husband can ask you for the password he used on Amazon.com three years ago and you WILL know it.  Your daughter will call at least three times per semester asking what her password is to various college website components and even if you've never even seen that website, you of course WILL know it.  It's just part of those Momma duties.  You know, the Momma duties like being the last one to bed and the first one awake no matter your exhaustion level, like knowing instinctively when each child is wearing their last pair of clean jeans, like doing that world record sprint carrying your child to the bathroom between the first retch and your child spewing like a shaken soda, or being able to produce a Nobel level science project with humblest of supplies mere hours before its due.   

We Mommas gotta keep up with the times!  What time is it?  Let me see if I can remember the password to unlock my phone and I'll tell you...  hold on....  I'm drawing a blank here!   LOL

"On Call"

This is my pager.  I was a little surprised to have to carry a pager for this job.  Who carries pagers anymore??  Especially big clumsy messaging pagers, but I guess ya gotta do what ya gotta do.

I remember back in the day when it was really cool and sophisticated to have a pager.  David and I first got pagers when I was pregnant with Dollie in 1991.  He worked in construction back then and I never knew where he would be working from day to day and he was really hard to get ahold of.  The pager gave me peace of mind I could reach him if the "big moment" came unexpectedly.  Only on the construction site it was so noisy he couldn't hear or feel the pager if it went off in his pocket or on his belt, so he used to wear it clipped to the back of his cap.  Even then he couldn't hear it sometimes.  If I was bored occasionally I would page him just to see if he would hear it.   So then of course he had to stop what he was doing, climb down from wherever he was on the job, and go call me back from the bag phone in his truck.  (Nah, we haven't driven each other a bit crazy over 25 years!  ahaha)   Oh those were the days!

But seriously, now 20 years later I'm still carrying one of these dinosaurs.  My employees and everyone else I deal with regularly have my phone numbers and just call me.  However on the "on call" lists at the hospital they have our pager numbers listed so I can't ignore it.  The funniest part is that apparently the hospital is not the only group that has this pager number on a list.  Get this....  some "entertainment / escort service" apparently has this number for one of their working girls because I get the STRANGEST messages!   Just about the only time my pager ever goes off, its telling me where the party is.  Oh my!   It gives being "on call" a whole other meaning!!!   I finally turned it off the week the NCAA Final Four tournament was in Houston -- the stupid thing went off constantly.   Apparently everyone wasn't in town just to watch basketball??

This pager sends and receives text messages as well as numbers and I've texted back numerous times to tell them its a wrong number and to delete it from their list with no success.  Maybe I ought to start having some fun with them?  I could text back something about being from the vice squad?  Or maybe pose as Wayne Dolcefino's producer?  Or some kind of STD warning service?? 

One of our family members used to live in Rosenberg, Texas (the northern-most city in Mexico) and their house phone number was just one digit different than a local hispanic taxi cab company.  After getting calls at all hours of the day and night requesting taxi cabs only to have the callers either argue or not speak English when they tried to tell them they had the wrong  number, they learned to say "Okay, we'll be there in 10 minutes" in Spanish.  Bahahahaaha!!!

On the other hand, maybe I should be looking into a second job?  I am trying to put a kid through college after all.  Though this wasn't exactly the "call of duty" I was thinking of ???

Surprises

 

What do the following items have in common?  A large pocket knife, Lego pieces, a bottle cap, .357 bullets,  truck keys, 2 inch sheetrock screws, AA batteries, Captain America, a flashlight (separate from the batteries), post-it note, string, $12.37, and GI Joe’s motorcycle.   ???

You give up?   They’ve all recently come out of my washer or dryer.   Which meant they had to somehow sneak INTO my washer or dryer.  Like, stealthily sneak in hiding in someone’s pocket or dirty clothes.  I live in a house with three guys and as much as they would like me to believe otherwise and that these things just somehow sprouted feet and dove into the washer of their own volition, my guys don’t seem to know how to clean out their own pockets. 

It’s long been an unwritten rule around our house that Mom does NOT clean out your pockets.  If you’re old enough to put something into the pocket then by George you are certainly old enough to remove it from the pocket before putting it in the dirty clothes hamper.  And so it is written.  End of story.  After all what do I look like?  Your mother?  Your maid?  … oh wait, I am kinda the mother but I refuse to be the maid.  Well, unless you count cooking, cleaning, doing your laundry… oh nevermind.  I don’t do pockets.

I should make a clarification here, if something obviously falls out of the pocket, makes a loud metallic thunking noise, or otherwise is of sufficient weight to be noticed as I’m sorting or dumping it into the washer it might just be saved.  That’s depending on my mood, and how observant I am at the moment.  Let’s face it chances are not in their favor.

I mentioned this in a facebook post once and got some really great comments about what other Moms have found in their washers over the years.  The most interesting had to be my friend who found dead worms in her son’s pocket after having gone through the washer and drier.   Niiiice!   As twisted as that is, it makes you kinda glad you didn’t find them ALIVE, huh? 

DJ managed to have his first two cell phones washed but after having to replace them at his own expense, hasn’t made that same mistake in many years.  The most tragic washing accident was probably once when David had his construction business and accidentally left a check in his pocket for several thousand dollars.  Ooops!   Since it was in about 300 pieces in my dryer lint trap, the bank would have had some serious trouble cashing it.  Good thing the guy was a good sport and reissued it. 

I’m old, and boring, and I don’t get a lot of surprises in my life anymore.  Maybe this is just God’s way of letting me live on the wild side??  Every time I finish a load of clothes I get to see what little surprises are waiting for me in the bottom of the washer.  Or in the case of money, kinda like they’re leaving me a tip?  Yeah, 23 cents!  A few more days with a haul like this and I can afford a dollar coke from McDonalds!  Of course if one of those bullets goes off in the dryer one day, it’s probably going to totally ruin my love of surprises??

 

VBS

Yesterday started one of the most favorite and long-awaited weeks of the year for Dillon… Vacation Bible School at our Church!   It’s almost like another major holiday or event on our calendar every year, and sure enough is usually a highlight of June for many kids every year.   It’s cool seeing all the different churches advertising their VBS (usually during June), seeing the different themes and activities, and just knowing they are reaching out to the kids.  Some churches have VBS during the day (like our Church) and some in the evenings. 

I still remember attending VBS when I was Dillon’s age and younger.  Back then the Church we attended held an evening VBS and it was like the same Church building I saw every week was magically transformed – lots of extra color, and posters, and activities, and… SNO CONES!    I remember my VBS teacher back then (Mrs. Cartwright.  Can you believe I still remember her name?  And her family were ranchers and her youngest of three sons was named Joe.  I’m really serious!  Quit humming the Bonanza theme…)  Anyway, the teachers would print the words to songs on big poster boards and it was a special treat to get to stand at the front and hold the poster board during the song.  I still remember the name of the song when I got to hold the poster.  Isn’t it silly the things that stick in your mind after 35 years?    For a person who can’t remember to take out the trash on Fridays, I consider that golden!  Haha

Some friends talk about making the “VBS round” during the summer, going to VBS as each church in town held theirs during the summer months.   We didn’t live in town and never got to do that, but loved going to VBS with my Great Aunt Mildred every summer  (She never had kids of her own, but was always like a Grandma to me).  She was already in her 70’s back when I was a kid but was the most fun “grown up” I knew.  She would have my brother and I plus 2-3 other kids come stay with her the week Iago Federated Church (where she worshipped) had VBS.  We would attend VBS during the mornings and have a great time playing together the rest of the time.  She would have weenie roasts, take us swimming, play games with us, and all kinds of fun stuff.  A couple of summers she even arranged for us to go have pony rides at a friend’s house.  She made Vacation Bible School week a real VACATION for us kids every year.  I just love her for that!

Back then I never imaged I would move to the Iago area one day.  We always enjoyed their VBS so much and I still remember some of the ladies from those days.  One other thing I remember was that at snack time they let you file past the kitchen refrigerator and get a whole glass bottle of soda all to yourself!  I always got a strawberry soda and thought that was epic coolness!!   I still think of that every time I’m in the IFC kitchen (like for showers and such) and it always makes me smile.

Hats off and great thanks to all the very special people who volunteer to coordinate and teach VBS every year, who serve great snacks and drinks which kids may remember forever, and most of all to those who take the time to bring their kids, grandkids, and lots of extra kids with them to VBS.  May God bless you and may those kids remember it fondly 35 years from now and more! 

Burns and Berries

Two quick notes for today:

1.  I'm not sure how often I intend to post on this blog, but for now I'm pretty much trying to post a little something every day except Sunday.  Sunday is a day of rest.  Though I seldom get to "rest", I will rest from blogging that day.  So if you checked for a new blog yesterday... sorry Charlie.  =)

2. When I started mentioning forest fires in my blog last week, little did I know that a few days later there would actually be raging forest fires in the very area I was speaking of (Montgomery County) and other east Texas communities.  Thankfully the digital age and bazillion TV channels in our modern age do a much better job covering these so the surprise factor is lessened, however it's still a really nerve-wracking time for folks living in those areas and my heart goes out to the residents and those fighting the fires.  I also apologize if I was flippant about forest fires.   Believe me, they aren't a bit funny.

Maybe this is a good time to remember there is a good side to almost every bad side.  Like though I really, really, really, REALLY hate snakes I know that they serve a purpose in nature by eating rats and rodents and therefore keeping nature in balance.   Even though bats seriously give me the creeps (again, too many B horror movies in childhood?) I know they serve a purpose because they eat mosquitos and therefore are part of God's master plan to keep nature in balance.  Just please don't let one fly close to me or actually get stuck in my hair.  I.  Would.  Die.   As in outdance Michael Jackson followed shortly by cardiac arrest right there on the spot.  Eeeek!   So forest fires, though scary and difficult especially when close to inhabited areas, burn out the underbrush and help keep the forest in balance.  But like snakes and bats are easier to handle in a distant and abstract way?

By the way, that thick pine forest underbrush often contains lots of dewberry vines which thrive in the sandy shady areas and reminds me of a quick funny story...   During my 4th-7th grade years I attended a small private school on the outskirts of Conroe where our PE Coach believed in cross-country running.  He made us regularly run a long course which looped around and ended in a clearing behind the school.   Believe it or not, I was pretty athletic as a kid but never really liked jogging of any sort.  Lucky for me Coach Collins didn't either.  He would see us off in a big pack as we left the school and then go drink coffee or whatever for the 30-45 minutes until we all trickled back again.   Ha!  His mistake.  We soon found a trail that led through the woods and came out in the clearing behind the school and cut out about 80% of the cross-country route.  So we would cut through, goof around for a while so as not to give away our secret, and then do our best to show up sweaty and exhausted looking 45 minutes later. 

Only those darn dewberry vines wound up giving us away!  In the spring time the sides of that trail were absolutely THICK with loaded berry vines and we would munch away on them while killing time until one day some genius classmates of mine started collecting them in their folded up shirts.  Those berries stained their shirts so bad, it looked like they had been shot in the stomach!  We were so totally busted!!  And by the time Coach finished killer workouts for the next two weeks which would have brought a Navy seal to tears, we wished we'd never heard of dewberries and would rather have just been shot to put us out of our misery! 

Again, in God's perfect balance of nature I guess there's a hard-nosed Coach to offset every group of evil little kids trying to get around the rules??  Or there should be at least.    =)

You Just Can't Take Her Anywhere...

 

Over the past few weeks a team of fellow managers and I have been making road trips to visit our Regional Care Centers in the Houston suburbs to have meetings and deal with some issues to improve workflow of importing their electronic patient documents which we process at our central location.  This usually means a long car trip, meetings, and a girls lunch outing.  When we went to The Woodlands last week of course the biggest debate of the trip was where to have lunch.  If you’re not from around here, let me explain that The Woodlands is a very nice upscale master-planned city nestled in the pine forests north of Houston.  Oh Smoky Bear, where are you??  Aaaahh!!  (Sorry, momentary relapse.)   The options for lunch were endless and we all decided we wanted to try something new.  Something different.  Something TRENDY.    Hahahaha… okay, many of you see where this is headed now?

So one of my coworkers had heard about this certain place from a friend-of-a-friend’s brother-in-law’s cousin’s friend’s daughter… or something like that, and googled it for directions.  It’s description was “gourmet backyard cuisine”.  Cool, so off we go.  The restaurant was located in Woodlands’ Town Center, the Disney-ish Main Street Americana-like district built to look like a classic small town downtown full of cool little shops and boutiques.  (Don’t you just love how they’re all trying to copy the small-town feel?)   So after finally finding a parking spot, parallel parking between two cars that each cost more than my house, and only running up onto the sidewalk once (Yay Monica!), we had arrived!

We wanted trendy and trendy we got.  The inside was decorated in the industrial chic modern style… lots of stuff made out of pipe, flat steel and aluminum, and even the salt and pepper shakers and little vase on the table were welded 1 inch aluminum square tubing.  I think we’ve got some of that in the barn; maybe I’ll have DJ whip me up some so I can feel trendy?  Of course mixed with this was lots of curvy lines and “natural” stuff – bare tree branches, bamboo, and big clumpy grasses as section dividers… you know the drill.  Kinda like shop class meets wild kingdom??

The very aloof and snobby staff wore all black and most of them had that modern shaggy hair that practically covered their whole face look.  Cousin It, would you please show us to a table??   So the four of us were finally seated at our little booth, and seated we were.  Like, when we sat down the table came up to about our armpits.  That combined with Cousin It the hostess, and the whole overwhelming trendy silliness just gave us the biggest case of the giggles.  I was seriously looking around for TV cameras; it was like we were in a funny SNL skit or something.  Okay girls let’s hold this together, okay?  Okay?! We were really trying, we were.  The menu, all one page of it, consisted of a piece of paper listing overpriced choices glued on an imitation leather covered board.  Hmmm… should I have the $20 cheeseburger or the $14 bowl of soup?  Our waiter’s name was Clem.  Black clothes, lots of hair, I guess he probably had eyes in there somewhere, and a nice smile.  Since every employee we encountered seemed to have really unusual artistic names we decided that if you applied for a job there and your name was Joe or Bubba, they either screened you out immediately or made you change your name to something more exotic sounding?   Maybe Clem was really a Bubba in disguise?  Hmmm… or not.  Clem took our drink order and my boss asked for a glass of iced tea.   So Clem starts going down the ‘Tea List’… kind of like a wine list…  there is a Madagascar black tea delicately infused with papaya and saffron, etc. etc.  Too many choices for me; I ordered water.  So Clem started going down the ‘Water List’, Pelligrino, Perrier, etc. etc.  I managed to hold it together with a straight face long enough to say “Could I just have a glass of your finest House water today?”  Then I asked for lemon.  He paused and I seriously thought he was about to start in on the ‘Lemon List’.   Lord, help me.  So anyway I wound up ordering the barbeque pork tenderloin and shortly before our plates arrived, Clem brought me out what I guess was their version of a steak knife.  It looked homemade from solid aluminum, again like something that was made in shop class or perhaps a prison shank?  This thing was huge.  I’m talking Bowie knife baby!  I think it was larger than DJ’s biggest hunting knife which is just shy of machete size.  (Well not really, but its pretty big)  Our whole table cracked up laughing.  Of course by this time we were having some fun with Clem and I had to ask him “The pig is dead, right?  Am I supposed to kill it with this thing?” 

So anyway, the food was actually good, I got out of there for less than 20 bucks, and we had fun.  Best of all we had a refreshing day out of the office and solved some issues which should improve patient care.   I guess a little variety does us good sometimes, even if just for the entertainment value alone?

Classic Thank Yous

 

I got a really nice, beautifully worded "Thank You" note in the mail the other day and it got me to thinking...   In a world where texts and emails have largely replaced paper notes and letters, I'm so glad some people still take the time to write a Thank You note.  Admit it, when going through your stack of never-ending mostly junkmail mail you receive each day (see Wednesday's blog - LOL) doesn't it just make your heart skip a beat when you see a little hand addressed colorful envelope?  It means a personal communication, most likely an invitation or a thank you, and is always the first thing I open.   For many families in our area, May and June are to Thank You notes what December is to Christmas cards.  'Tis the season!   Weddings, showers, graduations, and most of all FAIR time. 

 

In our area lots of kids grades 3-12 raise projects to show at our County Fair the first week in May.  Along with all the somewhat intangible rewards and life lessons that come from these projects comes the opportunity to make the big sale at the Fair where the project is auctioned.  Our Fair also has a "group buying" structure where a person can put large or small amounts of money on many different lots in the sale instead of just being a single buyer for one project and therefore each kid's project may have many buyers. DJ had 39 buyers this year for his pig and so wrote 39 separate Thank You cards.  If for instance a buyer contributed toward purchase of 100 different kid's project that buyer will get 100 different Thank You cards, each one unique and carrying a special message of gratitude from a hard working young person.  I'm so very thankful our Fair takes the subject of thanking buyers very seriously and encourages the kids to write Thank You notes for that is a well learned lesson in itself.  Score another point for country small-town values!  =)

 

One of our "keep in touch with frontline staff" kind of projects for us Managers at work is that once a quarter we choose at least three random employees and visit with them personally about what things they feel are going well, where we need to improve, etc. etc.   Part of this interaction also encourages them to recognize someone else they work with and say "Thank You".  We provide two really nice Thank You cards per employee for them to write a personal note which is then sent to the employee they wish to recognize.  I just did this last week with my staff and have to say the results once again impressed me.  What a great prompt to say something nice to someone you deal with every day and the notes are sincerely appreciated.  Its a great encourager and morale booster. 

 

In fact, I'm a big fan of sending Thank You cards for nice deeds and not just nice gifts but realize I don't do it as often as I should.   When I think about all the super teachers, coaches, family friends, and everyone who does so many nice things for my family and I all the time, I realize how many opportunities I miss to say Thank You.  I'm going to try to do better at this. 

 

And by the way, Thank YOU for reading my blog and for the kind comments to encourage me.  Oh shoot, there I go... not handwritten, not in a colorful little envelope....  my bad, but nonetheless sincere.  =)

Forrest Fires and Curtis Mathis

**Note:  I thought I was going to be slick and master this blogger page, so yesterday I set up this morning's blog to post automatically at 8:00am this morning.  Well, the short version is... the below Forest Fire blog is not the one that was supposed to post today; it was originally intended to be tomorrow's rambling.  However, since I'm such a major goober and the blog meant for today appears to be lost somewhere out in cyberspace because of course it didn't post as scheduled this morning, we're moving on to tomorrow's stuff.  Of course the blog meant for today may pop up at any time and suprise us both??   Did I mention I'm really glad it's Friday??               Sincerely, Your not-so-savvy blogger friend

Forest Fires and Curtis Mathis

My heart goes out to those in Texas, Arizona, and other places devastated by wildfires this year.  Any kind of natural disaster reminds us how little control we actually have over nature and no matter what dramas are popping up in our everyday lives, at least we aren't dealing with what those poor folks are handling at the moment.  When it comes to scary disasters, for some reason I fear wildfires and particularly forest fires more than hurricanes and floods.   When I see the video of the forest fires in Arizona for example with the raging firestorms and trees flaming like wicked torches, it just makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.   I guess this, like many adult fears, is rooted in the twisted imaginations of childhood?   Until about age 12 I lived in the middle of a pine forest near Conroe.  I guess it comes with the territory, but the forest service had a big presence in the schools back then and every year we would have presentations about fire safety and the whole Smoky Bear traveling roadshow thing.  What really got me though were the movies they would show us of horrible out of control raging forest fires filmed up close from inside the fire.  It literally gave me nightmares!!   I mean seriously, showing that to 5 year olds who LIVE in the forest… it scared the poo out of us!!  No way Mr. Smokey… you’ll never catch me with a campfire!   In fact, my mother would walk around the yard smoking and I would stealthily follow along behind her to make sure she didn’t catch anything on fire.  Yes, very twisted I know.  I see that now.  I was a total weirdo child.

When in a forest like ours you could only see the little patch of sky right above you.  It was nothing like the wide open fields and pretty grass around Boling where you can sit on your back porch and watch a thundershower approach and say okay, now it’s at so-and-so’s house it should be here in about 4 minutes.  When something was on fire you could see and smell the smoke but had no idea where, how big, or how close the fire was to you.   A neighbor burning trash or pine needles would make me break out in a cold sweat as I imaged being a charred little ember as the whole place went up like a bottle rocket.  Oh Smokey Bear, come save me!   Ahhhhh!!   Okay, I guess it’s kinda funny now but believe me it wasn’t at the time.

Living in a pine forest did have its advantages.   We lived on an acre of land in the country in a deeply forested area.  The number one advantage was probably having very little grass to mow because almost no vegetation survived in the little clearing where our house was.  Though come to think of it our yard probably looked like total crap, mostly sand and pine needles with the few plants and weeds which were hearty enough to survive.  But hey, what did I care because at least I didn’t have to mow grass that often – Yay!   Instead of fields to play in we had “trails”.  Trails to the creek, trails that shortcut to the neighbors house, trails to favorite spots to meet your friends.   Also keep in mind this was the 70’s – where once we had passed the age of banana seats and chrome fender bikes, all cool bikes were 10-speeds with the curvy handlebars and  super skinny tires.  Super skinny 10-speed tires on sandy forest trails with lots of tree roots… now there’s an adventure (read accident) waiting to happen!  Playing in our trails was also kind of like being in one of those rat mazes where you can only see out the top.  After getting lost a time or two and wandering around, hoping to get home before dark (so you wouldn’t get the whipping of your life), most of us kids also developed a pretty good sense of direction out of sheer necessity too.  

Anyway, aside from a deathly fear of forest fires the other major disadvantage had to be TV reception.  Most adults my age have fun telling their kids and grandkids we only had three TV channels growing up.  Well out in the sticks, we had ONE channel.  And that was only if we were lucky, and you fidgeted with the outer dial juuuust right, and wiggled the rabbit ears with foil on them juuuuust right, then maybe perhaps a signal would dip down into our little hole in the pines enough to get more picture than snow on the screen.   Once my Dad had this brilliant idea… we had a friend who painted towers for a living and had climbing gear.  Dad got him to climb up into one of the tallest pine trees right behind our house and mount our TV antenna up in the treetop.   Genius!!  We actually got crystal clear color TV reception for all THREE channels!  My parents went out and bought a huge console Curtis Mathis color TV in a cabinet big enough to bury about 3 people in.  The TV was in the middle, the top lifted up on the left side to reveal a record player and on the right side was an 8-Track tape player.  State of the art hi-fi electronics baby!  We thought we were in heaven…. well, for about 6 months that is...  until the first big lightning storm came our way.  Yep, our antenna and TV got FRIED!  Total toast.  It’s probably a wonder it didn’t set our whole house on fire AND start a forest fire.   Anyway, then we were back to setting our small black and white TV on TOP of the fancy fried Curtis Mathis and watching our one fuzzy channel.  You children of the 70’s, raise your hand if you’ve ever had a TV sitting on top of another TV…   yep, I knew I wasn’t the only one.    The record player and 8-Track worked great though.  Go figure?

Now of course TV is digital, fits in your pocket on your cell phone, and has a bazillion channels.  Very handy for watching movies too.  What?  Did you say watching forest fire movies??   Ahhhhhhhh!!!!

Reruns Already??

Before I started my blog (a whole whopping 3 days ago), I used to write “Notes” in facebook when the wordiness bug struck me.  Someone suggested I repost those notes on this blog and I may do that here and there when the urge arises.  No, I assure you I’m not out of blog ideas yet .  In fact I still have a plethora of fun stuff to share that you probably never wanted to know about me.   Feel free to hit that little “x” at the top right of your page at any time….  LOL

Anyway, I was inspired to post this previous note by reading a cute post from a friend last night who wound up handling a cattle stampede in her pajamas.  For anyone who’s ever raised livestock or horses, even recreationally like we have, you can identify with this.  If you have by some chance escaped this pleasure while raising livestock, honey let me assure you that your day is coming! 

So if you remember this from last year on my facebook, maybe it will be like a good pot of stew… even better the second time around.  Or perhaps like leftover chili, a little while in to it and you’ll realize it wasn’t a good idea?   Haha    It’s a little wordy, but enjoy…

There’s like… a cow in my backyard? Could you… um… come get it?

by Ramona Petrosky on Thursday, June 17, 2010

I’ve finally figured out the key to my financial success while job hunting. Are you ready for this? I’m gonna sell tickets to our family dinners! Or at least rent out my children as stand up comics? I swear, those of you who’ve sat around a table with my kiddos when they hit their silly story moods will understand perfectly.

Tonight we were regaled with tales of today’s tractor adventures by DJ and lifeguard Dollie kicking 5 bad kids out of the pool simultaneously (she’s such a tough cookie!) all while watching Dudley near summersault into the full bathtub with Dillon during his frantic bursts of energy. Hey, just another night in paradise. Though I have to say Dollie had the winning ‘laugh till you just about wet your pants story’ tonight. I will attempt to re-tell it, though probably won’t come close since we’re missing all her expressions and hand gestures, but here goes…

Last Saturday night we had a knock on the door about 1:30am. Dollie, whose bedroom is in the front of the house, heard it. We occasionally get weirdos or drunks wandering up wanting to use the phone or something, yes… even out in the country near little ole Boling. The last time this happened she actually called me on her cell phone to tell me someone was knocking at the door. My bedroom is in the back of the house and with David’s high power fan he insists on sleeping under only about one click below an airplane propeller running, unless they’re driving a bulldozer through the door I’m probably not gonna hear it. Well, Dollie ignored the knocking as no cars drove up and it didn’t really sound like an “emergency knock”. My kids have such highly attuned perception skills? Anyway, she really didn’t feel like getting dressed to answer the door.

Then a few minutes later the phone starts ringing. Phone ringing in our house is like the starting bell in a scavenger hunt because the problem with cordless phones is there is no cord to keep them tethered where they’re supposed to be. Invariably they all wind up buried somewhere under the chaos of DJ’s room. So no one got to the phone before the answering machine picked up. We’re not really all about bounding out of bed setting a scavenger speed record at 1:30am either, just for the record.

So then we get this fabulous message on the answering machine… <read this to yourself in a kinda clueless nasally tone to get the full effect>… “Um… this is (next door neighbor girl)… there’s like… a cow… in our backyard? I don’t know if it’s yours but… ummm… can you come get it???”

Now the great advantage of no longer having a barn full of expensive breeding heifers that you REALLY don’t want wandering around the neighborhood or out on the busy highway is that we’re no longer supposed to get calls like this, right? I mean, the ONLY bovine creature we have at the moment is Dillon’s now about 600 lb. used-to-be bucket calf, Mystery, whom we have to practically search for in the high pasture grass as he munches pleasantly through his summer days. So Dollie’s really thinking “this can’t possibly be OUR cow”. But regardless, being the ever so responsible person she’s somehow grown to be (on a good day) and knowing she would feel bad no matter whose cow it was if it wandered onto the road at 1:30am and caused an accident, and knowing she was probably the most skilled cattle wrangler on hand at the moment, she slithers out of bed and gets dressed to go investigate.

By this time David and I of course are both up also but neither one overly anxious to trudge outside. Dollie has now put on crocs and shorts with her nightshirt, though honestly I’ve seen skimpy underwear with more coverage than these particular old soffee shorts from like the 7th grade provide. I managed to scrounge up a working brinkman flashlight and a rope halter. Everyone keeps a spare cattle rope halter on their coat rack, right? Yeah, I thought so. And she trudges off into the dark…

She wasn’t sure what she was going to encounter but as she walked over into the neighbor’s side yard whose blocky little white face appears? Mystery! Whew – at least that was better than some neighbor’s wild cow or buffalo (actually happened to me once, but perhaps that’s a story for another day?). So she walks up to Mystery, who was never particularly easy to catch even in a small pen, and figures she needs both hands. So she puts the flashlight between her thighs, stretches out the rope halter, and starts waddling toward to calf. Mystery thinks “Hey, I know you!” and starts pouncing around like its play time. O yeah, he’s feeling really frisky now! Dollie is hunched over, waddling after him, flashlight between her knees, “Come over here ya bleep bleep bleep “ <sorry – gotta keep this ‘G’ rated>. Anyway, she finally gets close enough to start patting/scratching his butt. He always was a sucker for the butt-scratch. In his momentary bliss he lets down his guard and she pounces, flashlight dropped, rope and arms around the neck, just as he decides to take off running. So now she’s steer-doggin’ him, in the dark, at 1:30am, in her crocs and short-shorts, cussing all the while. Yeee dawgy!!! Somehow in all this she manages to get the rope halter onto the beast and then opts for the dead-weight deterrent by digging in her feet and trying to slow him down. Only did I mention she’s in crocs? With no traction on the damp carpet grass? With a very feisty calf? Who is more than 5 times her weight? Yeah, that didn’t work so great. She wound up sitting on her butt in the wet grass, in the too short-shorts, getting drug behind the calf like a redneck water-skier. Can you say ultimate wedgie? Niiice!!!! Eventually she gains control, wrassles the calf into submission, and starts leading him around the front of the house to put him in a secure pen until his escape route is fixed.

Now guess who shows up? Yep, Dad finally has his shoes on and has made it outside. He steps off the porch… “You got this?” Dollie: “Oh yeah, I GOT this.” Dad: “Ok”. Dad goes back in the house and back to bed.

Honestly, I was in the midst of a migraine Saturday night and the parts I remembered of this episode were after she and David didn’t come back within a few minutes and I was considering where I might find the nearest roping rope to try somehow to assist (unfortunately didn’t have one hanging on the coat rack), David walked back in the house saying “It was just Mystery. Dollie got him back in with no problem.”

As Paul Harvey would say… and then there’s “the rest of the story” which I learned tonight! Who says there’s nothing fun to do at our house on a Saturday night?

Junk Mail Mountain

Do you hear the trees screaming?  I mean, seriously how many forrests are wiped clear each year in the name of junk mail?  Ugh!  I hate junk mail and therefore since 80% or more of all mail we receive is in fact junk mail, I hate going through the mail.  Since I have yet to find a fairy godmother who will clean my house and eliminate all unpleasant chores, this means it stacks up around my house until the guilt monkey jumps on my back and won't let up... like today... and I finally go through the stack. 

 

This is a chore that for some reason I put off longer than any other.  I would rather scrub toilets or even do the dreaded laundry before sorting the mail.  Yes, I realize it would be easier to toss the junk mail as I get it but who am I to take the easy route?  Noooo, I have to be difficult and let it build up until it covers my entire bar.  With a sudden shock or lab accident, it could easily morph into the Junkmail Monster that ate Cleveland!  (okay, yes, I know I watched toooo many B horror movies growing up).  Plus the evil mail marketers have gotten smart and disguised worthless junk mail to look like important mail... it comes in nondescript bill-looking envelopes, those printy foldy things that look like the old W2 forms, and all kinds of stuff that I just can't bear to toss until I at least open them to make sure they're not really something important.  Then I open them and think... "Ugh!  Got me!  It's just worthless crap!"  No I don't want to sell my timeshare - mainly because I've never owned a timeshare.  No I don't want 3 million more credit cards that I'm supposedly preapproved for.  No I don't want ANYTHING you have to offer me through the mail.  Does anyone really buy anything from junk mail offers??  Does anyone really read any of this crap??  If I want something I will go looking for it myself, thank you. 

 

I've heard that mass mailings are actually on the decline probably because most people feel the same way, or more likely because its all been replaced by spam email blasts which cost nothing to print.  Why don't they invent a junk mail filter for your mailbox like the spam filters for email??  That's something I might buy, unless of course it's an offer made through junk mail?  Hahaha    This pile pictured represents about 9 inches of assorted personal and professional type junk mail I got but never read over the past month.  Buried amid this was approximately 1 inch of actual useful or necessary bills. 

 

Poor Dodie and fellow mail carriers - imagine deliverying this much junk mail to every home on their route every month.  I know some people get creative and stuff the blank papers back into the pre-paid envelopes just to mess with the mail marketers.  For me the the spirit is willing but flesh is weak; I just don't have the energy for that.  And plus some poor mail carrier on the other end would be hating me too.  Maybe I should come up with a system to stop all this worthless junk mail?  I could mass mail my offer to people...  :-)

How’d They Do That?

I know it’s terribly cliché, but I am constantly amazed over the years at how my kids grow.  I mean, you start out with this precious little tiny miracle of a newborn baby that used to be in your tummy and then they grow, and grow, and grow until it seems like two blinks later they’re shaving and staring down at you and calling you “shorty”. 

Of course as you look back through pictures and all it’s cool to see how they’ve grown and changed but sometimes I swear I can see them growing right before my eyes.  Take my little one for example.  Dillon is seven years old now and hitting those “didn’t I just buy those jeans last month?” spurts way too often it seems.  Just two months ago at Easter time we were heading down to the beach for the day and since I hadn’t bought new swim trunks for the summer yet, grabbed his trunks which actually still fit him big at the end of last summer.   Once he had them on I noticed they were a little small and made that mental note to hit up Academy sometime soon for a new pair, but they definitely did the trick for that day.  Last week I grabbed that same pair of trunks for swim day at daycare because the colors in them actually matched his mandatory field trip daycare shirt and low and behold he couldn’t get them up past mid-thigh!  He wiggled… and danced…  and squirmed…  but no way, it just wasn’t happening.   We finally gave up and wore the red/black/gray newer trunks with his lime green/royal blue daycare shirt.  I do try to avoid having my kids leave the house looking like a crayon box when possible, but hey… he could have cared less and I’m long past sweating the small stuff. 

This incident did remind me however to go through his dresser drawers and purge the remnants of last years clothes and assorted too small items yet again.   Like many little boys his age, my seven year old has few inhibitions and will boldly walk around the house butt naked on occasion or in only his underwear quite frequently.  In fact, I recall once he came strolling through the house mid-day butt naked and eating an ice-cream sandwich.  I watched him stroll by and thought “Hmmm….  Mommy, perhaps this has gone too far?”   Anyway, back to the subject of cleaning out drawers…. Because he’s also been known to put on anything in his drawer whether it actually fits or not including socks and clothes  from his teenage siblings that made it into his drawer by mistake.  Once when he was wearing about size 6 boys briefs, he came strolling through the house wearing what look looked like low cut bikini bottoms complete with a superhero character on the butt.  What???  Turns out he had squeezed himself into a 3T size brief which had somehow remained in his drawer undetected.   It didn’t help that he was walking a little funny too, and DJ (my 17 year old comedian) was right on cue with some interesting commentary. 

It’s been fun watching each child grow up over the years.  Poor Dollie, my favorite (and only) daughter who is now almost 20 years old, was destined to be petite and hasn’t really grown any since about age 16.  We have a wall in the house were we measure each child’s height as they grow and Dollie has had the same line for about 3-4 years.  While the boys' lines leap up the wall by inches every year, her line just keeps getting a little thicker every year and we add another age number to it.  Needless to say, she has grown quite an attitude about 'measuring time'.  The bright side of that however, is that she’s still wearing some of the same clothes from high school.  In fact I think she may even have a favorite t-shirt or two from Junior High she could still wear if she wanted.  This is proof positive that the mother’s chore of size purging does have an end point.  Yay! 

Though we’ve certainly had challenges with Dollie outgrowing things over the years too.   The most memorable was at the State Fair of Texas when she was in about 7^th grade.  We are blessed to live in a rural area and my kids LOVE showing livestock.  I had bought her a brand new pair of boots for our County Fair in April which she only wore a few times.  During the summer months, she wore virtually nothing but flipflops and then time rolled around to get ready for State Fair in September.  I asked her several times to go try on those boots and make sure they still fit.  She assured me she did and they fit.  Well, in Dallas as she came back from putting her show clothes on and we’re putting the final touches on her lamb as she was about to walk into the ring, I notice big ole tears running down her face.  At this age she was still a little nervous about shows sometimes but I had never seen her cry.  I did what I could to cheer her up and off she went into the ring.  THEN I noticed the way she was walking!  Turns out those boots were a full size or two too small at that point and she had crammed her feet into them rather than admit she hadn’t actually tried them on beforehand like she told me she did.  Aaaargh!  Hard headed children!!  Can’t imagine where she gets it from though?   By the time she had walked and stood, walked and stood, and done the show thing for a good 45 minutes in the ring she was walking like some ancient Chinese woman.  Ha!  That was probably the only time in her life she wasn’t hoping to make it into the champion drive??  

I do keep some a select few favorite clothes from each of my kids through the years.  A few baby items, a special dress Grandma made, DJ’s favorite little ‘cowboy’ suede vest from when he was 6, Dillon’s little football jersey from 3 years ago.  It’s fun to pull those items out sometimes, to hold that physical reminder of just how much my babies really have grown, and to picture their little faces when wearing those clothes.  They are like a priceless little time capsule to days gone by.  Only I draw the line at size 3T superhero underwear.  Sorry, but while they definitely carry a stunning memory they just didn’t make it into the box! 

=)

To Be Or Not To Be A Blogger?

To Be Or Not To Be A Blogger?

That is the question. 

I’ve long been a fan of several great blogs and those friends who know me well have asked why I don’t write a blog myself.  Huh?  I Dunno??   I… uh… I gotta go.  (Sorry, reverted to my teenager’s number one answer. It’s just a wicked habit.   Haha )   I guess I’ve just preferred snappy quick comments on facebook and personal visits with friends and something about the obligation of keeping up a blog once I start it kinda scared me off.   Or maybe friends tell me to blog because they’re tired of hearing me talk in person and on facebook?  Kind of like at work when someone is dragging on and on about something stupid and to shut them up you say “That’s very interesting.  Why don’t you write that up and email it to me?”  Maybe they’re just blowing me off nicely?  Hmmm…  definitely a consideration? 

Well, never someone to be easily shut up, I guess I’m plowing on….  So I’ve finally decided to take the plunge (or be it cannonball?) into blogging.  Here goes nothin’ folks!   I can’t hope to compete with some of my friends who have truly mastered the art of blogging, nor can I promise stunning photos, or photos of hot cowboys and calf nuts (for you PW fans), or helpful tips, or consistency, or just about anything useful come to think of it.  But if you’ve got time to kill and need a confidence booster, i.e.  “well, at least I’m not as screwed up as that chic…” feel free to stop on by my ramblings.  Perhaps something will occasionally strike a chord or bring a smile?  And after all, it gives me something to do when I really should be working or doing laundry.

A note about photos:  I will occasionally include photos but my posts will be mostly good ole fashioned wordiness.  Snapping pictures no more makes a person a photographer than putting down some sentences makes one a writer.  I claim to be neither.  To further complicate matters however, my dog ate my camera.  Haha!  No, I’m actually serious.  Well not in the eat and digest sense, but more of the gnawed and slobbered on and cracked my LCD screen and broke certain features sense.  He is a big loveable 90 lb. chocolate lab and it’s just kinda what he does.  He meant no harm, I guess my camera just looked tasty and interesting at the moment when one of my kiddos left it momentarily unattended in the backyard.  Oh well.  It still takes photos but since I can’t really see what the pictures are looking like, it makes things a little more interesting.  And since I am a creature of habit and cannot find this model camera (which I dearly loved and was used to) in stores anymore, AND I am a terribly broke cheapskate and refuse to buy a new one any time in the near future, AND I am frighteningly indecisive when it comes to this purchase, AND I'm totally NOT techie camera savvy and might I mention again that I am too much of a cheapskate to purchase the models recommended by my techie camera savvy friends,  I guess it will just have to do.  Something about having champagne taste on a beer budget?  It’s the story of my life. 

Okay, anyway….  If you’re reading this I guess you’re along for the crazy ride with me.  Sit down, shut up, and hold on!!  Oh my bad… slipping into copying my teenagers again!  Hahaha  Definitely don’t shut up, I’d get a kick out of reading your comments. 

So in the immortal words of Clark Griswald as he’s about to sled down the hill in Christmas Vacation… “Later Dudes!”