I have a friend....

I have a friend that pops into my real life world occasionally and just his mere presence makes my day. Seeing him walking towards me takes whatever weight is on my shoulders right off and I feel a little lighter, a little freer than I did in the moments before he arrived.

My friend understands me. He doesn't judge, or push, or try to make things better because he knows that isn't up to him. My friend just is.

I see my friend everyday on the interwebz and on TV, and in e-mail and on various social media sites.

My friend was and still is a mentor before he became my friend. Our friendship occurred by chance, time and opportunity. His friendship has enriched my life, especially in the last 7 month. He has guided me through this quagmire often with no more than a hug or a few words.

My friend reaches many people in many ways each day. He speaks to groups and schoolchildren and when the Alabama air becomes tumultuous he is the first many look to for reassurance and guidance. He is a legend in our state and someone who so many look up to, myself included.

He is my friend. I am proud to be able to call him that.

Thank you my friend. Once again, you have given me the strength to pick myself up and get going toward whatever God has planned for me today.

And I just might see you on Sunday.



This past weekend I spent a little over 48 hours in the Orlando / Altamonte Springs area of Florida. I was there to meet blogger friends old and new for Adam's annual Halloween party, Avitaween !!

I had met many of them before including Britt, Hilly, Dave2, Becky, Heather, Karl, Shannon, Brad and Turnbaby, Jill, and a few more.

I made new friends too !! People whose blogs I have read for ages and who I finally got to meet !! I was all SQUEEEE about that !! Dawg, Poppy (who I will hide my corned beef hash from because she is all awesome and stuff!! ), Maria, Faiqa and her amazing husband, Rachel, Ren, Robin,Sheila,Linda (and Fraughter), LeSombre, Nicole, Wendy, Marty and his lovely wife Rita, Shash, Karen, Sassy, Angie, Angel, Finn and other people whose blogs I can't recall right now but will be reading soon!

My only regret of the weekend is not getting to spend enough time with these people...they are all made of awesome sauce and when you out them all together it is totally awesome dressing® !

Next year I'm staying a week, if they don't boot me out of Florida ! Everyone was terrific and I was a bit looser than I was at ConFab, probably because I "knew" most of the attendees already. And I'm sure I'm forgetting someone, and I know there were several people I didn't get to meet because things were just so busy. I had a great time, and instead of boring you with all of the minute details I'll just tell you (and show you ) the most interesting parts of the trip !

Southwest graciously allowed me to roam around the country using a leftover credit that Greg and I had( oh he went too ! of course! - see him in his costume below!) It was a good flight and as we climbed into the air all I could think was that I was getting a little bit closer to heaven. That made me tear up a bit but then it made me smile.

After I met up with Sheila, Linda & Fraughter and Ren and his wife at the ORL airport where we promptly introduced Linda & F to the goodness that is Chick-Fil-A. We then spent an hour at freaking Budget where they tried to give me a two-seater car, whereas I promptly went all Planes, Trains and Automobiles on them and took myself right next door to Enterprise. They got us there.

The rest of the weekend was spent hanging out at the Hilton who makes an amazing Long Island Iced Tea ( or 10 or 12!), hitting Universal City Walk where both Sheila and Fraughter got knocked up in the back of Nicole's van in order to provide better parking for KimKind , general debauchery around Florida and of course, THE PARTY.

It was AMAZING ! The decorations were spot-on, with signature themed Invaded drinks, and Adam even had vacation photos of us with aliens invading them - it was perfect!

(And yes I did KARAOKE!! I was talked into it by Becky and the lovely Mrs. Avitable, and I had a blast - especially since there is no video or photographic evidence of it - I hope!!)

Unlike some people...*ahem*

So, enjoy the pics, there are more at Flickr and I'll leave you with my bullet list of things said/done and overheard at
AvitaWeen ......

* "Yall it's stuck to my buttcheek."
* "I don't think it's supposed to be that big after you pump it."
* "Just put it in my box."
* "Shake it and see if more will come out."
* "You're getting it in my eye!!"
* "Is it supposed to be that green?"
* "Higher or you won't be able to get it in!!"
* "I had to get two before they ran out and I go into withdrawals."
* "I'm not eating anything that looks like dog puke."
* "It's all floppy and might fall off if I go too fast."


Yes I know.....

* I need to post about Avitaween

* I need to post my room remodel / fall pics

* I need to update my blogroll

* I need to move this buggy to WordPress

* I need to be answering my comments !!

I'll try to get to all of that and more later this week !

Keep checking in !!

Thanks !



(Avitaween post will come later, today I am celebrating the woman who graced the world with my presence - my MOMMY!! Yall should celebrate too ! )

Happy Birthday Mom !!! _ _ years of life on this earth and you are still kicking it's butt !

I love you and thank you for being an amazing mother, wife, mentor and friend !!



I haven't been in a writing mode the last few days. Well, I have, but they are gut wrenching and pukealicious ( on my end ) so I said the hell with it and am just taking a bit of a break.

I've been off work all week because of a remodel, and have been keeping myself kind of busy...spending time with my dad, and dealing with mortgage companies, bill collectors, lawyers and all of the other components that make up the Dreaded Bureaucracy of Death.

But very soon, I will be heading to Avitaween. There I will be seeing some of the most awesome people ever.

And then I will blog about it !!

To quote my friend Britt, "I’m going to enjoy the next few days with people I hardly ever see. I’m going to set aside the suck, knowing it will be right where I left it when I’m ready to dive back in, and just not think about that right now."



I'm gonna GET ME SOME !


Blogging, Integrity and Truth...

The last few days there has been an Internet controversy regarding a series of tweets and a blog post by a very popular mommy blogger. I read this person's blog, follow her on Twitter and called her my "Internet friend."

If you've missed it, you can google catch up here. And here, here, and here. It's been quite the crap storm and puts every type of blogger in an unwelcome position.

I personally have my own opinion on the whole thing, but I'm not going to vilify anyone or spew vitriol out about the situation. My opinion, as well as whether or not I share it, is mine to do with what I want. I hope the person who started this BS gets what she needs to help her and that somehow this whole mess can become a positive in some minute way, because right now it's just a big old negative in blogville.

There are lots of other bloggers that have posted amazing responses to this whole thing on their blogs. Please take a minute and check them out.

I will say that even though I don't have ads on my blog, I don't get paid and I never get chosen to review things I pour as much of my heart and soul into this blog as many way more popular (and sponsored) bloggers do.

I've had this blog for almost two years, but didn't really start posting regularly until Gregory died. It's been my outlet, my pressure vent, and a portal into a virtual world where I have met so many amazing people. many of whom I will call my lifelong friends.

Everything I post here is the truth. The emotions are mine, the feelings are mine, as are the words.

Most days I just sit down in front of the keyboard and the words flow out. Others, I may have an idea for a post and write it a day ahead of time. And some days I just do memes or post a picture or a quote that has touched me that day.

But in the end, it's the truth. I may get over-emotional and weepy and be dramatic, but it never morphs into a lie. As bloggers, we have all stepped back and forth over invisible lines that separate fact and fiction. It's the nature of writing.

But this is my truth.

And to lie about anything involving that would dishonor the person whose name is forever written in stone and on my heart.


You can find me in da club.....

Sometimes while I'm driving around I'll see signs that say "Celebrate Recovery!" and "Divorce Support Groups" and countless other signs for organizations that meet in churches, community centers and in towns all around.

Until recently I never gave these signs much thought. Then I started realizing that I didn't see any "Club W" signs sticking out of the ground, wavering on their thin metal legs like wheat in a breezy field. I see no signs for the club I have been reluctantly indoctrinated into.

Sure, there are grief support systems everywhere. But unlike most clubs, it's not so easy for us to have an uplifting sign or banner telling the world about our group.

If so, it would have to be a big sign.

At the very least, it would have to have images of our club members doing the following:

* wailing
* sitting and staring blankly
* laughing uncontrollably
* racked with silent sobs
* expressing guilt over the earlier laughter
* anger
* denial
* laying in bed all day

And countless other images from the roller-coaster of emotions us club members are treated to.

I tried to go to a grief support group. It didn't quite fit at the time. I'm going to try again in a few months, after I make it through the holidays. I'm afraid I'll be taking my mother at some point by then.

I fit in pretty well in the blog-o-sphere though. I've even found other members of the club and now call them my friends and fellow members. I want to thank them, as well of all of you that read and leave comments here. You've helped me make it these last almost 7 months and even though it's been hell, I am a stronger person because of your help in making me take steps forward.


Good advice.

“Every day you may make progress. Every step may be fruitful. Yet there will stretch out before you an ever-lengthening, ever-ascending, ever-improving path. You know you will never get to the end of the journey. But this, so far from discouraging, only adds to the joy and glory of the climb.”

Winston Churchill


Double Jeopardy

A year ago today on Oct 16, 2008 is when I found out my dad had cancer. It was the same day my company's new laptops came out. It's weird how I associate these two. It also sucks because every time I see one I literally see the words DADDY HAS CANCER flashing across the screen.

His journey with cancer started off as a misdiagnosis of ACID REFLUX ! Way to go Doc. Last summer he had trouble swallowing and would often get what we call the "vurps" and wasn't feeling too great. The doctor told him to keep taking his Prilosec. Yea. Good call. He then went in for a stress test and numbers were elevated or something so they said HEART ATTACK ...and sent him in an ambulance to the local hospital (which doubles as a building full of no useful info whatsoever). Wherein this building they did no MRI / Cat Scan , nothing but an EKG, and OH MY !! No signs of cardiac arrest.

Gregory and I finally talked him into going to see a different doctor, and that's when they found the esophageal cancer. Stage 3. Invasive. 8 to 18 months with chemo. Today marks a year since I heard those words from my mother, standing in a parking lot where they had come by work to tell me what they didn't want to tell me over the phone. One year since my father's eyes hid behind the same brand of sunglasses that we have both had on while we held each other silently, each one of us fighting off the tears harder than the other. So alike, he and I. I am my father's daughter. One year and my daddy is still alive. Alive, but not well.

I can see where the cancer has taken it's toll. He has lost and gained weight, he has lost hair. He tires easily. I usually find him in his recliner, either reading or sleeping. A week or so ago I went down to do the fall hedge trimming and other assorted chores that Gregory and I would always help him do. Except this year I did it all myself. My mom helped by doing some raking, but she's almost 68 years old and can only do so much herself before tiring. She told me after about 30 minutes of work that my dad was inside crying because he couldn't help his daughter. I don't think I could have pierced my heart with the gas hedge trimmer I was wielding and made it hurt more than knowing that my daddy was crying. I managed to cover up my sobs with the whine of the trimmer and soaked up the tears on my gloves.

Mom, there's some things I don't need to know.

When I found out my dad had cancer, I was stunned. I left work early and went straight home to Gregory , who I told face to face and then we held each other and cried for just a minute until he said "Pops is strong, he will beat this and we have to be strong for him." He was devastated. He loved my dad and felt closer to him than he did his own, who was abusive to him in so many ways. He once told my dad that he never had a father, and asked him to be the one he never had. Sure, they didn't always get along, I mean really?? What daddy get's on with his #1 girl's man 100% of the time? But oh how G loved my daddy, and I was so happy that finally the two men in my life were on the same page.

I did some grieving of my own, but I try to put on a brave happy face when I am around my dad. I go to his doctor's appointments, but sometimes he wants me to leave the room when the doctor comes in to talk to us. I understand, he just wants to protect his baby.

So I kept moving through life, working, taking care of my husband and stepson, helping my parents with things that needed doing, and talking to my mom and dad 2-3 times a day and googling and web-md'ing what I could find about esophageal cancer.

And then my Gregory died.

And the little part of my life that the cancer grief had wedged itself into exploded. Then imploded.

I am grieving the death of my husband. My husband was a recovering / non-recovering alcoholic. The contents of a bottle of vodka were too strong for him to resist. A little fall , a black eye , him walking around laughing and goofing with me as usual? That turned into a slow bleed that killed him after he was fine for several days. The doctors call it "talk and die" syndrome. His liver was so messed up his blood wouldn't clot. Type 2 diabetes didn't help. So he died. And part of me went with him and I will never, ever be the same.

I am grieving the impending death of my father. There is no cure. There is no hope. The man smoked for 50 years. He got cancer. The cigarettes that he loved are coming back in the form of cancerous cells that are killing him. And I am scared to death to lose my daddy.

But I think I'm scared for me too. I'm scared that I have poured so much of myself into grieving for Gregory that I haven't given myself the time or space to deal with the fact that my daddy is going to die.

And then it's just me and my mom. And what is she gonna do? That's gonna leave me as the strong one. The one who handles things. The one.

I don't want to be the one.

I want to be Kim.

I want my husband.

I want my daddy.

I want my life back.

I haven't done anything wrong.

I thought cruel and unusual punishment was against our constitution.

I thought double jeopardy wasn't allowed.

I want my pardon.

I want my happy ending.



And unfortunately, I'm not talking about my favorite daquiri flavor....

We have had SO MUCH RAIN here in central Alabama the last few months we are beginning to have mudslides and sinkholes. A total anomoly around here.

Yesterday, my parents woke up, looked out their front window and this is what they saw.

That is our neighbor's boathouse. And his boat.

Apparently, there was so much rain the hill gave way and triggered a mudslide, and the mud basically pushed the boathouse off of it's pilings.

The yellow house next to the bobbing boathouse is my parents.

It made the Alabama Weather blog which totally made my day since I am a total weather goob....and one of our local TV stations came down and filmed a segment , took pics from their porch and even asked mom if she'd comment on camera. She declined as she said she wasn't "at her best." My mother, on a bad day, could go into Saks and look better than half the people there. I think she just missed her 15 minutes of fame. *grin*

Here's the clip.......

Naturally, they are all freaked out that their house will be next.....which is a genuine concern, even though they did spend a literal boatload of money several years ago having the hill covered in concrete.

But just in case, I suggested they keep a flotation device by the bed.


I got me a pretty monkey...

Yes, the title of this post was something someone actually said to me....

Once upon a time, before my husband died and my story became a bad Lifetime movie, I had a life.

I had friends. Lifelong friends. Regular haunts, restaurants, bars, places to go and things to do. Traditions. Annual events. Fun. Hey let's load up and go here and here and here just because we can !!! And because OMG how much fun did we have last time !!

I lived in Poplarville, Mississippi for over 20 years. After growing up in Singapore, it was like coming back to Mayberry. But it was a good thing. A good town. And even better people. No matter what, it will always be home. And that is where my heart is.

We went here every year. . As usual, we stopped and got a few gallons of daiquiri or two on the way to go along with our ice chest on wheels . (Perfectly acceptable in Louisiana to BYOB to the fair ! In a state where we have a law saying it's ok to shoot a carjacker?? That's tame.)

Besides the rides, the Washington Parish fair (no counties here, we're special yall) had all of the cheesy carnival games guaranteed to make you blow your dollars while still having a blast. My fave?? Betting a quarter on a colored dot and hoping that the ball rolled into it's corresponding hole. A cajun version of roulette, if you will. The ball used to be a mouse that would be released from a box and run into a hole of his choosing, but with PETA and mouse labor unions all that came to a squeaking halt.

One miraculous night I laid down a few of my quarters and lo and behold, the ball fell into my hole.

Wait, let me rephrase that.

It wasn't just any hole, it was the golden hole !!

Oh shit.


OK, erase those visuals from your mind.

I put a quarter on a SPARKLY GOLDEN SPOT ON A WHEEL ( not my hole, get it? ), and the ball sniffed out my golden sparkly hole (dammit) and fell right in !!


And I may very well have jumped up and down a bit (just to make sure it was securely in the hole, yanno).

Because as any good fair-going woman knows, when the ball lands in the golden hole, you get a prize!

And not just any prize mind you, ohhhh noooooo, you get the top prize ! The prize that sticks out amongst all of the other fair prizes ! The prize that shows itself proudly with the biggest tent pole at the fair ! No low hanging prize for you missy ! You get the well-hung, top prize!

Uhrrr, wait.

Oh the hell with it.

You get the biggest, hairiest, most squeezable prize in all of fair-land - the STUFFED ANIMAL !!!

YAY !!

And then you get to cart said prize through the fairgrounds, all the while deflecting the jealous stares of lil' children whose prize gathering skills are still in progress, the evil glow of the women's eyes who implore you to take your skills away from the prizes of their husbands, and the longing in said husbands eyes who think, ohhhhh she knows how to handle the balls that lead to the golden spot.....

....and while you walk proudly through the crowds with the prize that only your golden hole could procure, a voice calls out from the masses....a voice weathered by the years of Pall Malls and late nights of singing along with the American Legion band...a voice destined to remind you of your worst nightmares dreams of glory at the fair...

... the voice pierces your ears and it says.....

"Hey little lady.....YOU SURE GOT A PRETTY MONKEY!!!"....

...and after the inevitable moment of HORROR, and the grasping of your pretty monkey while trying to hold your friend's mouth shut so her peals of laughter won't crack glass within 10 miles, you gather up the inner strength and intestinal fortitude to say these words....

"Well yes, yes I do ...... Thanks !!!"

**This post approved by PRETTY MONKEY.**


Maybe tomorrow......

"If you propose to speak, always ask yourself, is it true, is it necessary, is it kind? - Buddha

I don't have much to say today.

Not much seems necessary or kind in my head today.

And the truth? The truth hits me like a ton of bricks every time I gather the courage to face it.

Whoever said it first was right.

The truth hurts.

And it seems that nothing can take the pain away for long.

Maybe tomorrow....


Just a little snip....

I love a veterinarian's office with a sense of humor. Wonder which one of the ladies was having marital problems that day??

(Taken in Helena, Alabama.)



Remember the Seinfeld episode with Judge Reinhold as a "close talker" ?

Apparently this trend is alive and well in central Alabama. In the last few days I have encountered no less than 5 close talkers. And I don't get it...don't they know about personal space and boundaries? Don't they know my aversion to complete strangers recycling my oxygen as their own?

Apparently not.

I experienced this type of person many times in my law enforcement career, but I found a subtle but firm grip of my hand on the butt of my Sig-Sauer .45 instantly remedied the situation.

Now, apparently I have the appearance of someone who is either blind, hard of hearing or has an affinity for smelling your breath. I mean I know I'm smoking hot and all

**crickets **

...but really?? Back up bub.

And it's not just older people, or someone who can't hear....oh noooo, it crosses all age lines and apparently does not discriminate.

Yesterday, I actually had a close talker that gave me such a case of the heebies I had to leave the area several times. I'm sure he's a very nice fellow, but he looked just like Buffalo Bill from Silence of The Lambs, down to the blond stringy hair and dual hoop earrings. He also kept touching my arm and asked me several what I thought were TMI questions like how long had I worked there, where I was from, where I lived and could he "oh please have a business card". He also began and finished each sentence with my name. It was like being in a creepy-deepy echo chamber. Or a pit in the basement. **uuurggghh** It's bad enough I have Dr. Lecter coming by to see me, now this guy. And anyone who has seen the movie knows that Bill likes the big girls.

Today it happened a few more times. I'm getting so good at walking backwards I could probably learn to moonwalk.

Now, I can't be a total hypocrite and I will say that hey, if you're my type I am about the close talking and you can just lean in and love all over me if you want. Unless you have funky teeth or smell like an ashtray, then you can just go on with your bad self. Sorry, I love the pretty pearlies and can't stand the smoky smell unless it involves firewood, burning leaves or the scent of a filet wafting out of the grill. And bacon. Mmmmmmm bacon.

So basically, unless you look like this ,


or this,

Please give me my space and I'll give you the same courtesy.

Wonder if I could find a snappy pink holster for my Sig?


Random Awkwardness.....

I experience episodes of random awkwardness on a near-daily basis.

The people that bring the climate of R-A upon me aren't being malicious or intentionally hurtful, they are just doing what people do in the course of everyday conversation. Even so, sometimes I just wish people would zip it.

R-A usually pops up in a random conversation between me and people I deal with at work, or at a store, restaurant or some place where I am buying something or getting a service.

Thursday, I went to the dentist. After getting my pearlie's shined I was at the receptionist's desk making my next appointment when one of the tech's walked up. She smiled her usual cheery smile and asked me her usual cheery question "How's married life?" Ouch and hellloooo Random Awkwardness !! The ladies in the office just kind of looked up wide-eyed, as they had already heard about Gregory's death from the myriad of my family members that use the same dentist. I took a deep breath and told her what had happened, and embarrassed, she mumbled I'm sorry and left out of there like her ass was on fire. I wasn't mad, and she had no need to be embarassed because she didn't know and was just being nice. But it sure made everyone feel the wrath of R-A.

The same day I stopped at a restaurant that I had been avoiding because it was one of our regular haunts, but I was missing it and thought that maybe it was time to go back. I figured the turnover rate had been pretty high before so there was no way the same people we knew would be there. Wrong. Immediately upon sitting down I was asked " Hey, where's your husband?"
I managed to quell the urge to jump up and flee long enough to push out, "Oh, he's out of town." (Not a total lie.) Then I ordered myself a nice stiff drink. Cheers baby.

I also have to stop the sick bitch that lives inside me who carries around a little teeny urn full of his ashes in my purse and resist the urge to whip them out and boom " He's right here !! At least part of him anyway, and judging from the size of this container it's probably his big toe or something." I have unfortunately bestowed that act on several unsuspecting fellow bloggers, I mean there are pictures and everything. I'd like to go ahead and apologize for that now. I blame the drugs.


See the difference?? With some people, R-A requires the truth be delivered as bluntly and harshly as the drop of a guillotine blade. With others, you can dance around it as you would a pile of horse droppings in the middle of the fairgrounds.

I've experienced a bit of R-A in the past, but it was oh so different. When I was getting a divorce from my first husband, people would ask where he was or how he was or whatever and I would instantly stifle my breaking grin and blurt out - "We're getting divorced !!" while trying to hide the glee in my voice and attempting to keep from doing a little happy soft-shoe right there in front of them.

This time, obviously it's not even the same. I can't just say "Oh he died unexpectedly and it tore out my heart and changed me forever and it was all I could do not to follow him into the crematorium and everyday it's a struggle to get out of bed and act like a normal person and breathe and not drink myself into a stupor every night because that's the only way I can really sleep and I type a lot of run-on sentences in my blog posts but really I don't care anymore because my best friend is dead and frankly I just don't give a shit about proper punctuation but I'm really good at faking it and pretending that your question doesn't feel like a knife going into my heart. "

I damn sure wish I could answer it that way sometimes though. But it probably wouldn't earn me alot of friends. Probably get me to the secret floor in the hospital basement pretty quick-like, actually.

But I can't. So I don't.

Oh sure, with people I will have to see again, and some people who aren't close but I feel comfortable with, when they say something I grit my teeth, turn off my emotions and put on my brave face and tell them in a carefully rehearsed and memorized statement what happened. Then I wait for the inevitable condolences and other things that follow. And then I thank them and walk away.

The guy at Auto Zone who tells me my husband can probably put the wiper blades I just purchased on my Jeep?

The lady at Target who comments on how beautiful my rings and jewelry are and that I'm a lucky girl and my husband must have good taste?

And the lady at Publix in the deli that always tells me to tell that crazy chatty husband of mine hi?

And all the other carriers of R-A ?

To them, I say "ha-ha" or "will do" or "Thanks" while making low gurgling noises and extracting myself from their space as quickly as possible without pulling my hair out and running away screaming.

I seem to be getting better at telling people what happened though. I try to think of what G would always say - "it is what it is."

Maybe one day I'll actually be able to tell everyone the truth.

My husband's dead and he's never coming back.

He'll never sit with me at some empty restaurant in the middle of a weekday and talk about stuff that only matters to us while we plan our next adventure or even our next nap.

He'll never again tell me he's got me something shiny because I'm his sunshine.

He'll never change the wiper blades on my jeep or quiz the deli lady about whether their prosciutto is as good as what we could get in Philly.

He'll never tell me he loves me again or ask me not to go to work that day so I could hang out with him.

But every day, he somehow gives me the strength I need to make it through the next second, the next minute, and the next hour that string together to form the long days without him.

He gives me the will to fight through the random awkwardness, to be proud to be his wife, and to know that one day , in some way either decreed by a higher power or otherwise, I will find myself seeing his smile and folding myself into his strong embrace again.

Keep bringing it babes, 'cause I won't let the R-A keep me down.



...what really, really sucks about being a widow??

Besides the whole husband being dead and all ?

It's the little things.

It's having a great blog post written about the amazing Sunday you spent at your parent's house doing the yardwork that your husband used to do, and being able to do it all by yourself and you figured out all of the lawn tools and the hedges you trimmed look oh so even, and being so proud and feeling all accomplished and "super widow-y" like, even though you got a hang nail on your pinky toe because like an igmo, you wore no socks with your yard shoes.

It's having a fab evening that included Waffle House, champagne, good friends and favorite fall TV shows. It's thinking "Hey !! Maybe I will get through this after all!" It's anticipating a great "Me" Monday of a mani/pedi, a new fall hairdo', and a late lunch and movie before Monday Night Football.


It's ripping out aforementioned pinky toe hangnail by scraping the laundry basket whilst walking through the bathroom, bleeding all over the beige bedroom carpet like a stuck pig, and breaking down into a wailing, snot flinging mess on the cool bathroom tile because you can't find the neosporin, nor any band-aids, and the dog is trying to lick up the peroxide you spilled on the floor while hopping across the tile on your one good foot.

Then after you manage to regain just a bit of composure you only find coach's tape to wrap your pinky toe in, and you do a craptacular job of that because hell everyone knows it takes TWO PEOPLE to properly wrap a pinky toe and I'll be damned if my person didn't up and DIE ON ME so my toe looks and feels like deviled crap.

And it was 5 minutes after midnight, which meant MONDAY.

Hey Monday??

See that pinky toe there?? Sit and spin would ya?


Shared paths.....

"I will not fail you, my love. I will continue on the path we shared and I know you will be there to help me, as you always were. And when we meet again at the journey’s end, and we laugh together once more, I will have a thousand things to tell you."


Friday funny......

Thanks to my friend Robin at Alabama Slacker Mama for this, it was too funny not to share !!!



It's OCTOBER already? Wow.

I can't believe how quickly it's made it here. This has been a hell of a year.

October is one of my favorite months, the weather starts to change, fall festivals are happening, football is abundant, and of course, Halloween !!!

I hope for a good month, because the next few with holidays and what would have been our anniversary and G's birthday coming up, I am thinking I'll be spending alot of time with Dr. Lecter. So I'm making a few changes, doing a few new things and I'm gonna rock-tober and try and make it a good one.

Today I am headed to the dentist to have my pearlies shined, then I'm going to buy some fall flowers and pumpkins and start my fall decorating ! This is guaranteed to make my day a happy one.

This is last year's mantle....

I'm gonna try and color it up some this year !!!

And alas , unlike last year, I don't think I'll be subjecting anyone to the horror of pet costumes.....

I'm sure the shame of that night still lingers in his little brain.

Well, happy fall y'all !

I'll post pics of decor here as it goes up !!