Bombed

My son bug-bombed his apartment this week and decided was advised to launder all his clothes and linens after the bombing.  Which means now MY house has exploded.

First of all...I had no idea what a clothes horse he is.  How can anyone own so many clothes?  I think his plan is to have enough clothes that he only needs to do laundry at the beginning of each season.  We have piles in the guest room, piles in the office, piles in the laundry room a load in the washer and one in the dryer.

Secondly...this is how different my son and I are:

Since he's at work today, and I'm at home, I thought I'd lend a hand.

Here is his completed work...

Here is mine...

And if he sees this, he will claim, "It's the artist in me."

And I will admit, I'm a little OCD.

Confession--I didn't even know he came to my house and slept here last night.  A little scary.

Inquiring Minds blah, blah, blah

Here's the scoop.

Neal and I got hitched in Oklahoma City on December 30, 1976.  True. Story.

To wit:

The two in white are us.  Really.

I know, right?  Neal has hair, and I have chubby cheeks.  But that's us!

The rings don't look familiar, because mine was stolen from All American Fitness in downtown Tulsa just ten short years after the wedding.  Neal's was stolen when someone broke into our house in 2002.  I'm not even kidding.

This was when my veil caught on fire.  Seriously.

Congratulations all around.

Or....

...these two may have been plotting the disappearance of the Marriage Certificate.  Father knows best.

Fast forward to the year 2000.  Neal's parents decided to give all the kids copies of their legal documents...birth certificates, marriage certificate, etc.  That got me thinking.  I didn't remember ever SEEING our marriage certificate.  So the search began.  Since we had just recently moved from Tulsa to Baton Rouge, you would think I would've ran across it while packing.  I literally, okay not literally, but I tore the house apart looking for it.  The only thing left to do was call the Oklahoma County Court Clerk and get another copy, right?  Not so fast.  Oklahoma County had no record of the marriage.  Say what?

Must be Tulsa County.  After all, Neal was living in Tulsa when we got married and that's where we might have gotten our blood tests.  Nope.  Tulsa County didn't have it either.

As I recall, Neal was on a business trip when all this went down, so when he got home, I gently told him I had some bad news.  "There is no record of our marriage."  And he replied that he also had some bad news.  "You need to pack your bags."  Hardy har har. That was so funny I forgot to laugh. 

Being the resourceful person I am, I wasted no time calling my attorney to see if this might be a problem somewhere down the road.  He suggested I get a signed and notarized affidavit from the minister that performed the ceremony.  Just to be on the safe side.  Which I wasted no time doing.

Now, 14 years later, for some reason I start panicking about it again.  (I look for things to worry about.)  So I wrote a letter to the Oklahoma County Court Clerk asking for a search for this document.  

Which I received in the mail Saturday.

The end.

Score!

Last night was exceptional.  Delicious Spaghetti Dinner with great dinner companions.  Kids Praise Chorus concert was over-the-top with talent and adorableness.  Dessert Auction brought in much needed funds for our Junior Campers' registration fees.

And I scored an Italian Cream Cake baked by Angela Taylor.  Yummmmm!

For a measly 50 bucks, I also scored pumpkin cookies on this beautiful serving tray...

 FRONT

...that will one day be worth millions.

 

BACK

 

Money well spent.



A day in the life...

10:45 a.m.
-pulled the pin out of the weights on the cable crossover, releasing a lat bar similar to this:

which came crashing down on the back of my head.   There was much weeping and gnashing of teeth.  Should have listened to Lisa.  It is absolutely not safe to exercise.

12:05 p.m.
-arrived at the insurance office to go over some forms -- sign on door said "Out to Lunch until 1:00"

12:25 p.m.
-arrived at Jeremy's office to pick up his check for him -- doors locked -- not a creature was stirring

1:30 p.m.
- returned home after grocery shopping -- forgot to pick up anniversary card for the in-laws 60th.  Doh!

4:25 p.m.
- pulled a flimsy foil pan of homemade cinnamon rolls out of the oven, only to have flimsy foil pan buckle under the weight and dump half the rolls on the kitchen floor

4:40 p.m.
- started icing for cinnamon rolls and discovered that a mouse had beaten me to the powdered sugar

4:47 p.m.
- drove to the rural convenience store to pay an astronomical sum for a bag of powdered sugar

5:15 p.m.
- almost new Oneida wisk sprung a wire

6:30 p.m.

- ate other half pan of cinnamon rolls

Bird Watching

There may be nothing sweeter in life than a lazy, sunny Friday morning when it's my day off and I have no appointments scheduled.

So I've been watching my bluebirds who must be convinced that, indeed, winter is finally over.

You may recall that every Spring, they have built their nest in the rusted pipe next to our cellar.  Which is like an oven in the summer, and their eggs literally cook.  So last summer, the kids and I rebuilt a birdhouse just for them.  And Neal covered the pipe with wire mesh.

Practicality trumps beauty at our house.

So here's my beautiful bluebird.  Looking all sweet and innocent.

When in fact, I think he's stealing from someone else's nest and "re-purposing" the booty.

I've seen at least three different birds trying to use this birdhouse.

Oh...I don't think that's gonna fit, big guy.

Jacob & Lauren have their assignment.  At least 2 more birdhouses on their to-do lists.

Disney World is not for Sissies - Part 2

I have to confess, in the middle of all the fun and games, smiles and laughter, there were also times of tears.

I "teared up" the first night at Fantasmic.  Okay...I cried.  I don't know why.  Maybe being taken back through so many Disney memories.  Maybe the incredible display of imagination.  Maybe I was exhausted.  Anyway...two days later, Jeremy admitted that it made him "tear up" too.  Just sayin'.

I teared up on the "It's a Small World" ride.  Mostly at the end when we were all singing along.

I teared up when the Fairy-Godmother-in-Training couldn't style Lauren's hair because she had an eczema patch on her scalp.  Something about products and policy and doctor's notes.  I understood.  But she didn't.  Oh that sweet, disappointed face!  Have mercy!

I teared up when Jacob spilled coke in his lap and he was embarrassed that people might think it was another kind of accident.

I teared up when I saw this note that Lauren left in the room.

I teared up when each of my grandchildren, at separate times, said "Thank you, Nana, for bringing us to Disney World."

I teared up during the fireworks finale when the explosion was shaped like a star and everyone was singing, "When You Wish Upon A Star."

And tears were shed on the last trek to the shuttle after the final night parade and fireworks.  When every muscle, joint, and vertebrae ached from the miles walked, hours sat on hard, cold concrete to save the best place, and from jerks and sudden drops of ridicululously fun and scary rides.  

Oh, mark my words.  Disney World is not for Sissies.  Or maybe it is.

Disney World is not for Sissies

Disney World is a team sport.

For the full Disney experience, it's imperative that you arrive when the parks open...or before...since Magic Kingdom has an awesome welcome show at 7:45 a.m.

And stay until the electric parade and fireworks at the end of the night.

Forget a regular meal schedule.  No time for breakfast until you've arrived at the park and made a mad dash for the Jedi Training Camp to get your future Jedi signed up.  Lunch at Mama Melrose's was at 3:40 p.m.........

...aka nap time.

Dinner reservations at Cinderella's Castle were for 8:40 p.m....

 ...aka bed time.

Twilight Zone's Tower of Terror looks fun from a distance.

But requires some major pep talks on the approach.

You may have to battle the dark side...

find yourself in Mater's mouth...

and escape Donald's choke hold.

Disney resorts offer free shuttle service to hop the parks.  Rarely is there much of a wait time, but when there is, take full advantage.

By the end of the day, there is not one body part that doesn't hurt.  Three days + three parks = six tired but happy teammates.