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?

The Airport Workout

My business trip went really well. The only downside, as I lamented to a co-worker on the last day, was that I wish I could have exercised more during the trip. And then the words “be careful what you wish for,” became all too true for me. My first flight was delayed by about 45 minutes, which gave me less than 20 minutes to try to make my connecting flight, which happened to be at the completely opposite side of the large airport. I was grateful to a co-worker, a former military soldier, who said in a loud voice when we landed, “Can everyone please step aside? This young lady’s flight leaves in 15 minutes.” I gave him a look of sincere gratitude, when everyone moved aside so I could make my way to the front. I sprinted through the airport, lugging my bag with my work laptop and my overstuffed purse. It just so happens that I wore my dress shoes (dumb idea) and a new pair of pants without a belt. So I was simultaneously running, trying to hold up my pants with one hand, and praying to God that I didn’t trip or drop my laptop. I weaved through a sea of people, ran up two flights of stairs, took a bus, and then finally caught the tram. I was down to 5 minutes before the plane left, and I remember thinking that maybe, just maybe, I would make it. And then the tram broke down. A couple of maintenance personnel ran over to us, as the seconds quickly ticked down to take-off time. They finally were able to manually open the doors, and I ran to the gate. I arrived at the gate, sweaty, with my heart pounding. Through panting, I asked if my flight was still there. It just left, she told me. My workout then changed from running through the airport to strolling around the airport, as I had 10 (yes, ten!) hours to kill before the next flight. Let’s just say that I’m no longer going to complain about not being able to work out on a trip.

Business Trip

I’m getting ready to go on a business trip. While usually it's Husband who’s jetting (no pun intended) off somewhere, this time I’m the one who’s leaving. I think the trip will be fun. But, of course, I’ll miss Husband. And I’ll also miss this perfect weather that’s decided to hang around here. In honor of the nice weather, we grilled up some bratwurst this afternoon, which was a great idea. The bad idea, however, was completely forgetting we had put them on the grill. All of a sudden, I heard Husband say, “Oh crap!” and I saw him rush out to the grill to rescue our charred lunch. On the up side, I think we invented a new meat category to follow well-done: Burned to the Point of Almost Being Unrecognizable. You know what, though? They still tasted delicious. Have a great week!

Homemade Ice Cream

When Husband and I got married, the ice cream maker and sundae set (complete with tall ice cream glasses and various jars of toppings) that some friends gave us instantly became one of my favorite gifts. I thought it was such a creative and fun gift idea. Well, we’ve been married for over two years now, and we finally used the ice cream maker today to make our first batch of homemade ice cream. The verdict? In short, I think there’s a reason why people get their ice cream from the freezer section of the grocery store. We used a package of chocolate ice cream mix and a quart of whole milk. [Surprisingly, I’ve learned that they no longer label milk as “whole milk.” Instead, it’s tagged as “Vitamin D” milk (and according to the label, “an excellent source of calcium!”) At least, I was left to assume it was whole milk, since the “skim” and “2%” varieties were clearly labeled as such.] The machine turned the inner frozen bowl and churned the ingredients, creating about as much noise as a jet taking off. After about 15 noisy minutes, our ice cream was ready. Or so we figured when it was dripping down the sides of the machine. It wasn’t too bad. A little more icy than creamy, but decent. I still can’t help but think that for less than $3 we could just buy it – in any flavor we want! – at the store without any of the mess and fuss…and noise. But then again, we wouldn’t be able to fondly say, “Hey, remember that afternoon we reached in the freezer and grabbed that carton of ice cream?”

Business Pajamas

I started my new job this week, and so far, so good! The more I learn about the job, the luckier I feel to have gotten it. Everyone I’ve met so far has been great, and they’ve been a big help. I’m also fortunate that I can do some of my work from home. My parents were the first to recognize one of the biggest advantages of this. They sent me an e-mail today saying, “Tootie, enjoy working in your pajamas!” I think the only thing better than getting paid to work in pajamas would be getting paid to eat ice cream. A girl can dream, right? And yes, mom, I’m writing this while wearing (clean) pajamas.