Trick or Treat

The trick’s on us with Halloween candy. First, we didn’t expect it to be so pricey. I wouldn’t mind paying over $5 a bag for candy, if maybe there were more than 3 pieces of candy inside. Husband didn’t believe me, until he saw the prices with his own thrifty eyes. (“Five bucks?? For a dinky bag of candy? That’s robbery!”) Second, we (and by “we,” I mean “I”) decided that it would be better to buy candy that wasn’t our absolute favorite. Otherwise, we (again, meaning “I”) would eat all the candy before Halloween. One type of candy we selected was a humble bag of Starburst gummies. I made the mistake of sampling one, and all I can say is that one bag is almost entirely gone. And it’s not looking good for the second bag either. Do you think the kids will notice when we pass out empty wrappers on Halloween?

Identity Change

I spent the majority of my childhood living up North, but I’ve lived most of my adult life in the South.

Since then, I’ve been quickly won over by sweet tea (which is entirely different than unsweetened tea that you sweeten at the table yourself).

I’ve happily gotten rid of my huge winter parkas, thermals, and other bulky gear.

And once I realized that the young Southern man that was offering to help me with my groceries wasn’t going to rob me, I’ve grown to love the kind hospitality.

Yesterday I realized that I’ve become an official, card-carrying member (or more accurately, a magazine-carrying member) of the South, when I saw this in my mailbox:

My Northern side can rationalize that I subscribed because I saw a deal on Amazon for a year’s subscription for just $5 (that’s sadly no longer available). Or maybe I’m just becoming a Southerner, y’all.

Christmas in October

Did I oversleep and miss the last two weeks of October? And all of November? Today I saw Christmas décor already stocked on a store’s shelves. (Secretly, this sight made me just a little bit giddy inside. It’s only a matter of time before I break out my Charlie Brown Christmas CD.) I guess the good news is that if you’re stuck for a Halloween costume, you can just pick up a Christmas hat and call yourself Santa Claus.

Dorothy was right

There’s no place like home. After being gone off and on for the past few weeks, I’m done with all my work trips, and I’m home for a while. I figured I had been gone for too long when the hotel staff that saw me every morning at breakfast for two weeks gave me goodbye hugs on my last day there. And now I’ve grown to appreciate the little things about being back: being able to cook real meals, sleeping in my own bed, curling up on our comfy couch, etc. Of course, there’s one big thing I appreciate most about being home. (I’ll give you a hint: he’s 6 feet tall.)

Redneck Car Repair

I have to hand it to Husband. He’s pretty knowledgeable in the car repair category.

Though, he wouldn’t have to know much at all to surpass my limited understanding. The most I can say about car repair involves caveman-like sentences, like “Car broken!”

So, I wasn’t surprised when he said fixed the problem he had with his car window, which had been stuck briefly in the “down” position.

What did surprise me, however, is that the car looked like it was fixed by someone named Bubba or Billy Bob.

Notice how the car door "guts" - for lack of a better word – are clearly visible. If you look closely, you’ll see some scrap wood that is helping to prop up the window, plus some green tape that’s holding up a dangling door handle.

Note that the tape used is not duct tape, which may exempt us from redneck status, but only by a technicality.

I’ll just make sure that Husband doesn’t start parking the car on the front lawn, or I might as well give up and put on my bathrobe and curlers.

Weekend Slumber

My weekend was good. And when I say weekend, I mean the few hours that I was awake. Husband and I both had a long week at work. I got a burst of energy Friday afternoon, and I planned in my mind all the things we could do: watch a movie (I eventually want to see Love Happens), cook a few meals, go for walks, etc. But, I totally underestimated how tired we both were. On Saturday morning, I did some grocery shopping while Husband took a late morning nap. We ate a brief lunch together, and afterwards I ended up falling asleep on the couch for 2 hours. That night, Husband was excited because one of his favorite movies – The Matrix – was on TV, and he couldn’t wait for me to finally see it. And the only review I now can give of the movie was that the first five minutes of it seemed interesting. Just when Husband leaned over to tell me, “this is when it starts getting good,” I was already sound asleep. Next weekend, however, is looking better thanks to Christopher Columbus. With the extra day off, I just might be awake long enough to do something.

Becoming Grandma

I think I’m becoming my grandma. Before I left on my last trip, I was looking around the house for a bag tag so I could find my black laptop bag in the sea of similar black bags. I couldn’t find my luggage tags, so I decided to put a ribbon on the handle. And before I could fully congratulate myself on such an inventive idea, I asked myself, “Since when did I become my grandmother?” While most people have an “I’m-becoming-my-parents” moment, I skipped that generation and went right on imitating my grandparents. I told my grandma on the phone about my ribbon on the bag, and she laughed. “But it works, right?” she said. The next thing you know, I’ll be watching Dancing with the Stars, drinking hot tea, shopping at the clearance rack, and mailing recipes cut out of magazines. On second thought, I think the transformation is complete. Can I interest anyone in a hard candy?