Someone Kick Me Again, QUICK!

Oh My God. You ever had one of those moments when it feels like someone kicked you in the head and finally cleared out the cobwebs! Well I had a comment on my post about the job offer, and it was like DUH. In case you didn't see it, a friend posted a comment that basically said I was considering the job because THEY wanted ME, not because I wanted THEM.
Well I sat back with my mouth hanging open and it was like everything started clicking into place. Yes, I've been involved with some men who were real JERKS. Why? Because THEY wanted ME. Did I want them? Hell no.
I've taken jobs because THEY wanted ME, but I didn't really want THEM. Then afterward I felt so taken advantage of and miserable and couldn't understand it.
It's not just that I don't know what I want to do. It's that what I want to do has never been my foremost consideration. In fact, most of the time it's not high on my list. It's what does my husband think I should do. What do my kids think I should do? What do my friends think? And although I value all these opinions tremendously, somehow along the way I forgot to ask myself, or figure out my own answer.
Well I found out more about that job today. Excellent work environment, really LOUSY pay. So lousy in fact that the director I spoke to about it apologized for the amount and said she doubted they would get anyone really qualified to accept it because of the low wages. That's why she was happy I had at least expressed interest.
I sat down and figured it out. I could write for AC like I have been, and do a little Ebaying now and then and make more FROM home than I could make driving all the way over there, forty-five miles each way, with gas at $3 a gallon, not to mention the wear and tear on my car.
I wish I could find someone who needed a typist or data entry operator from home. I type fastttttt.
So the job is a NO.

Twenty Ways to Know a True Alabamian

20 Ways to Know if You're a True Alabamian...

1. You can properly pronounce Conecuh, Cahaba, Opelika, Sylacauga, Oneonta, and Eufaula.

2. You think people who complain about the heat in their states are sissies.

3. A tornado warning siren is your signal to go out in the yard & look for a funnel cloud.

4. You know that the true value of a parking space is not determined by the distance to the door, but by the availability of shade.

5. Stores don't have bags or shopping carts, they have sacks and buggies.

6. You've seen people wear bib overalls at funerals.

7. You think everyone from a bigger city has an accent.

8. You measure distance in minutes.

9. You go to the lake because you think it is like going to the ocean.

10. You listen to the weather forecast before picking out an outfit.

11.You know cowpies are not made of beef.

12. Someone you know has used a football schedule, Nascar schedule, or hunting season dates to plan their wedding date.

13. You have known someone who has a belt buckle bigger than your fist.

14. You aren't surprised to find movie rental, ammunition, beer, and bait all in the same store.

15. A Mercedes Benz isn't a status symbol, but a Chevy Silverado Extended Bed Crew Cab is.

16. You know everything goes better with Ranch Dressing.

17. You learned how to shoot a gun before you learned how to multiply.

18. You actually get these jokes and are "fixin' " to send them to your friends.

19. You have used your heater and air-conditioner in the same day!

20.You are 100% Alabamian if you have ever had this conversation:

"Ya wanna coke?"
"Yeah."
"Whut kind?"
"Dr Pepper."

In case you're wondering, here are the pronunciations:
Conecuh (Kon'-e-ka)
Cahaba (Ka-hob'-ah)
Opelika (Ope'-ah-like'-ah)
Sylacauga (seal'-ah-caw'-gah)
Oneonta (Awn'-e-awn'-ah)
Eufaula (You-fawl'-ah)

Got tagged by Miss Cathy

I AM: An open-minded person who easily seems to be able to see both sides of any situation. Which also makes me very indecisive. I’m also generous. If you come to my house and admire something, you will more than likely leave carrying it. I am extremely introverted (99% according to the counselor). I am also a procrastinator and a quitter. Which means I take forever to start something and tend to drop out in the middle of it. I’m creative. I’m like a kid in that if you give me a box of crayons or a tray of waterpaints, I’m happy. I’m a realist. I am spiritual. I am understanding and a good listener, when you can get my attention out of my head long enough. I have a long memory, especially of negative things. I want to say I’m a writer, but I’m actually the person who punches the keyboard while something/someone “out there” tells me what to say.

I WANT: My children to be happy and healthy. I want to die not wishing I had done or finished something I didn’t get to do. I want to travel and see the world. I want to get rid of every material thing we can live without and take the basics and go. Unemcumbered and free.

I WISH: I had a big loving biological family who could love me and accept me just as I am. People I could count on. I wish I had an RV. I wish I’d win the lottery. I wish I could stay forty-nine forever, but it’s too late for that now.

I HATE: People who think they know everything and have all the answers. I hate parts of myself. I hate being fat. I hate clutter in my house and feeling like the walls are closing in. I hate being too hungry, too hot, or too tired.

I MISS: My Granny. I miss my friend, Rachel. I miss those frequent bursts of energy I used to get ten years ago. I miss looking down and seeing my feet without having to lean forward, and being able to tie my shoes without feeling like my eyeballs are going to pop out.

I FEAR: Getting to the point of death and realizingII did it all wrong. I fear something happening to someone I love. I fear being totally alone.

I HEAR: I hear about half of what I used to. I hear this neverending drone of the television that is on all day when my husband is home. I hear my Tivo clicking. I hear the ceiling fan. That’s about it.

I WONDER: What the future will hold. I wonder if I’ll ever write a book. I wonder if I’ll ever see another day in my life when I don’t feel overweight. I wonder why someone hasn’t invented grass that stays green and never has to be mowed or fertilized or anything, and flowers with blooms that don’t fall off. Or self cleaning kitchens.

I REGRET: A lot of dumb choices I made with men. I regret the good ones I let get away and the bad ones I kept and should have driven away. I regret not spending every single moment of my time with my children at home enjoying them instead of worrying about stupid stuff.

I’M NOT: Sexy anymore. I’m not thin. I’m not a good housekeeper anymore. I’m not a perfect mother. I’m not a perfect anything.

I DANCE: Alone…often.(Left that one just like Cathy had answered it on her blog, because it’s true. Especially since I got the record player.)

I SING: Not often enough. I used to sing a lot. Then I stopped.

I CRY: I don’t remember the last time. But I’m sure it was over some movie.

I AM NOT ALWAYS: As spiritual as I’d like to be. I’m not always motivated. I’m not always anything, but I’m usually ok most of the time.

I MAKE: a lot of new recipes. I make a good effort at writing. I make a mess around the recliner with piles of junk I have to put away.

I WRITE: Short Stories. I write poetry (yes, really. Never admitted that to anyone in many years.) I write down quotes I like. I write in my blog. I write emails to my friends. I write down my grocery list. That’s about it.

I CONFUSE: People’s names. I confuse myself trying to remember where I parked the car in a parking lot. I confuse whether something really happened or I dreamed it, sometimes. .I NEED: Money for an RV. I need to learn to use my camera. I need to exercise and watch what I eat. I need more energy. I need a nap.

I HAVE: A lot more than I ever deserved, and I’m grateful for it .I have a good husband and good kids.

I LOVE: My husband. My kids. My dogs. My friends. My townhome. My book collection. My records. Jeffrey Dean Morgan’s eyes. And dimples. And...

I SHOULD: Be kinder to myself and others. I should stop writing this before it takes up so much space it shuts down blogspot..

Comments Needed. Tell me the truth!

I got an email from a guy I used to work with years ago. He said they are looking for a secretary, and he told me how good a place it is to work now. The boss I worked for there left to start his own business, and I went with him. A lawsuit entailed, of course, because some of the employees and customers went with him. (The company said he had a non-compete; he said he didn't, etc.) Anyway, I figured I'd burned that bridge, but evidently not. He said they have a new director, a girl I know. He said they wanted to know if I'd consider it. I told him I MIGHT be interested, thinking I could at least hear what they had to say. I actually entertained the idea of going back to work.
Then I decided I'd mention this to my husband and son. We opened a special account to use to start saving for our RV we want, so we can buy it without going into debt for it. I said we could build that a lot faster if went back to work. I wish you could have seen their faces, because they were hard to describe. To me those looks meant, "Been here. Heard this before. You'd do it a month and hate it and quit. You don't stick with anything, what makes you think you'd stick with this? Are you nuts? Why don't you just shut up and be happy where you are." Of course, none of that was said, except in my head. But it's all true.
So I have sat here all day trying to figure out a way to be content where I am. But I still have to admit the new remodeling/expansion they are doing in the old office sounded interesting.
I tried going back through my blog, and reading how much I griped about going back to work before. I fussed a lot before I finally just quit. What makes me think I'd be any happier this time? What does my family REALLY think? Do they think I'm a flake? This entry is what blogs are really for. To brain dump this stuff and try to sort it out. Sometimes it works. Sometimes I need feedback from my friends........

Toot TOOT

Nothing like tooting your own horn. The story I wrote, "Real Dads" is in this month's Chicken Soup for the Soul Magazine (June/July issue) on newstands now. I'm so excited. I only bought ten issues of it. ha.
And they mentioned me on their website HERE. How cool is that. Think I can get a date with Jeffrey Dean Morgan now? (Just kidding, my dear husband.)

Ya'll Ain't Gonna Believe this Sh**t!

There was a contest on Associated Content about the "Worst Date Ever". I knew when I read it, I had a potential winner. If you can't possibly believe this is true, just ask my daughter. She can verify. It happened. I swear. So when I read poor Nora's experiences with internet dating, I can't help but think, "Oh Hon, It could be worse...much much worse....."
Here is my story.
WORST DATE EVER STORY

P.S. No that's not his picture. But it is probably his twin.

I'm a...I'm a....HUH?

If someone asks me what my religious affiliation is, I always get that "deer in the headlights look." It's an easy question for most people, but not me. I'm never sure what to say. I think most people are what their parents were. My parents were not anything, really. My mom took us to a Baptist church when we were little. The only real memory I have of that is drawing on the church bulletin during sermon, and making pigs out of Clorox bottles during Vacation Bible school. My dad had no use for the church. His mom had been a strict Baptist, one of those "women wear only dressses" and "are submissive" and "little girls should not be wearing shorts outside and showing their limbs" kind of Baptists.

When my mom decided to divorce my dad, the church turned on her and took my dad's side. I guess they forgot who had been plunking her money in the offering plate every Sunday, what little bit she had left out of the grocery money he gave her each week. Soon after the divorce, she married my step-dad, and he had the attitude of "when you die, you're dead" and considered himself an atheist. If he really was, I don't know, but he was the nicest man I had in my life up until that time.

My religious upbringing consisted of a set of The Bible Story volumes sold door to door (I like to think God had some influence in my dad actually buying those for us) and the free gift with them- a set of Uncle Authur's Bedtime Storybooks. I loved the pictures in the Bible Story books, but didn't read much of it. However, those bedtime story books were fascinating. For one thing, my parents were not readers, so bedtime stories were something kids on tv got read to them. I read them to myself. And they were good stories of kids who learned to have faith, obey their parents, have good manners, etc.

Two of those stories I still remember. One was of two little girls who became lost in the woods and prayed and were found. One is of a family who had no food, who prayed and a bread truck speeding by had a door fly open and it rained four loaves of bread into their front yard, with no way to trace down the rightful owners. The front of the book assured us that the stories were true. I believed it. That's how I learned to pray when I had a problem. I still do. (I saved all those books to give to my grandchildren.)

I went to church at sixteen with a friend from school, and went forward and decided to be baptized. I was told to come back that night. I begged someone from my family to go with me, but none would, so I went alone. I remember crying, not because it was a moving experience, but because no one would come with me. I tried going to a youth group activity that weekend, and they were snobs and wouldn't talk to me. I didn't go back.

I put the religious thing on the back burner until my daughter was born. Then I began to feel guilty that she needed some religious upbringing. We went to Baptist because that was all I knew. We went until she was older. It stuck with her, and she is Baptist to this day. I guess my younger sons were too young when we quit for it to stick. One is Pagan, one claims to be agnostic.

I dabbled in other churches. I went to Church of Christ, Methodist, and Mormon. I don't fit there anywhere. I read my son's Wicca/Pagan books. I read about Shinto because I like Japanese Gardens. I looked into Taoism. If you can say anything about me, I'm curious.

I don't know what to call myself. But I do know a few things. I believe in God. I pray. I believe in heaven as some place we all came from and go back to. I don't believe in hell. I believe in Karma. I believe our spirits are eternal. I don't believe in man-made ordinances and rituals being laid down as law. I don't believe in using guilt and fear to make someone conform and behave. I don't believe in a punishing, mean, vindictive God. I think if we are his children, and he loves us all, he may be disappointed in us, but he's not sending people to hell because of it. I think punishment is what we bring on ourselves, our natural consequences with a healthy dose of Karma thrown in.

I believe in doing good for others, but not in getting recognition for it. I think if you do something and then toot your own horn, and stand up and be recognized for it, you might as well have not done it in the first place. You defeated the purpose which was unselfish giving from the heart, not praise and recognition.
I don't believe we should judge each other, or rate people according to how righteous we feel they are. Who says any of us are the authority on what is good? Would you trust Bin Laden to determine what is moral? What is we are wrong? What if we don't know all the circumstances?

So when someone asks me what I am, here's what I want to say: "I'm an non-religious eclectic Christian." Here's what I say, "Uh...non-denominational."

I SEE FOOD, I EAT SEAFOOD

This is my daughter, Plumbtuckered, on the pontoon boat we rented in Florida. We spent my birthday Sunday out on the boat. We walked around in the shallow part of the water, saw some dolphins up close and personal. We went to "Shell Island" but the only pretty shells we saw were still being inhabited by icky looking sea creatures. My daughter got attacked by a blue crab and it pinched her ankle and made it bleed. She got even by eating baskets of crab claws that night.
The kids got me an ice cream cake for my birthday, and we had a nice birthday dinner at Captain Anderson's. I decided turning fifty is not a bad thing after all.
I have to say, even though I hadn't mentioned it before, we have had a good friend of our family going through a major crisis in his life, and the situation looked hopeless. I lost a lot of sleep worrying over this man and his family. I did a lot of praying. I found out last night that my prayers were answered. I don't know why I doubt my faith so much, when God has always answered my most important prayers, like this situation and the life threatening surgery my son had. I am very grateful.
I am also very lucky.
And my friend, Cathy, sent me a very special birthday gift. My kids got me an Amazon gift certificate. I used it to buy myself a Swiss Army knife. Now no matter what the next part of my life brings, I'll have the tools I need in my purse to handle it.

JEFFREY DEAN MORGAN

This guy....makes me wish I was twenty-five again. This guy makes me wish my boobs were still in the same place they were when I was twenty-five. This guy makes me want to become a groupie. His groupie. This guy makes me want to camp out on his doorstep and become a stalker. This guy is the picture you see when you look up sizzling in the dictionary. This guy is what my heaven will be, just days of looking into those eyes. And if you somehow managed not to become a Grey's Anatomy junkie yet, this guy is why you should have. This guy...oh God. Enough said. JUST LOOKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!

SURRRRPRISE!

Just when I think I have life all figured out, and there are no surprises for awhile, God throws me a few. I like to think he's a bit of a practical joker and enjoys a good laugh like the rest of us. And I think he likes to help me lighten up when I start taking things too seriously.

When I get a bee in my bonnet, I am hard to live with. And I've had this "I Want an RV" bee for awhile now. My husband even admits it's a good idea. So we've been shopping to see what is out there. Saturday, we went to a dealership near here. We found some small ones you can pull that look like a tool shed on wheels. After walking through those for awhile, my husband spots a line of pop-up campers across the street (turned out the camper lot was on both sides of the highway). We decided to walk over. I don't know what happened to the salesman that had been trailing us. My husband thought he left to take a phone call. But regardless, we went across the road alone.

The pop-ups were lined up along the edge of the highway, with the doors open screaming "Come on in and look at me!" so we did. When I was a little girl, we had a pop-up camper, but back then, they had beds and that was it. I was surprised to find out they now have mini-kitchens and potties. My husband didn't believe they had potties. So when I spotted the low cabinet at one end, I was going to raise the top and show him what was in there. I walked to the end and raised the lid. He walked toward that end to look. And then suddenly, we felt the whole thing tilt! We were no longer standing level but severely downhill and it fell with a huge bump! Immediately I thought of it rolling out onto the highway and the news headline, "Two fat asses roll trailer into on-coming traffic."

I ran uphill trying to get to the door, with him right behind me, and you guessed it. We began tipping back up, with another big bump. I thought surely the salespeople across the street are having a good laugh by now watching us, and I wanted to get out of there. Guess what? All the bumping had somehow jammed the door and it wouldn't open. I'm frantically fumbling at the door, my husband reached around me and finally got the door open. We ran to to the car. Utter humiliation. Also hilarious. After we made our get-away, we both laughed our heads off. We also swore we'd never tell anyone, because we were so embarrassed. But you know me......
By the way, the picture is of one we are seriously considering, the tool shed kind. One that won't flip over on us. Hopefully!!!

Almost Mother's Day

I love being a mother. Really. It's especially nice now that they're grown. ha.
Now and then, I come across something that makes me nostalgic for the times when they were home. Most of you know that Plumbtuckered is my daughter. I also raised two boys. Very close in age. And both were very outspoken. At least toward each other.
When my daughter sent me this video, she said it reminded her of her brothers. I have to agree totally.
MOTHERS DAY VIDEO

Making Him PAY

I bet you thought by the title of this post, I was going to whack someone. No, this is about a different kind of paying. The kind that takes place on dates. I read another blog about a girl's experience with the ol' "who pays the check" scenario. So here's my take on it.
If he asks, me out, he pays. Simple rule. End of discussion. Men do the asking. Men do the paying.
Now, before I got married, I was not a girl that had to be impressed. If he invited me for a hamburger and night walk in the park, that's fine. Invited me for a picnic in the back yard to look at the stars, fine. Dating didn't have to cost a lot and I was never someone that a guy had to put on a big show for to get my attention. . In fact, the above kind of dates impressed me more than blowing a lot of money on me at expensive restaurants. Although I do like nice restaurants, there's something "showy" about doing that on a first date. So a guy didn't have to spend a lot. But he did have to pay the check.
Now when I was dating my husband, he actually tried once to get around this rule of mine. We had several dates, and he always paid. We went one night to a local Mexican place, and when the waitress laid down the check tray, he reached for it and said, "I'll get that...unless....uh....you want to this time." I smiled and said, "No, that's fine, Hon. You go ahead. Men pay for dates."
I figure if I pay for nails, and good haircuts, and makeup, and pantyhose, etc etc and have to spend two hours getting ready, including having to shave my legs (what a major pain), then paying for the date is the least he can do.
Here, most Southern guys don't even bother to ask if she wants to pay the check. They know better. Not only would they not get a second date, but if they complained to their Southern mama, they'd get whacked "up side of the head". So see, someone got whacked in my story after all.....

An Apple A Day Keeps the Dr Away

I saw an Oprah show where a gynocologist had raped and molested over 500 women over a span of years. He ended up in jail, but one of the women said she was still afraid to go to a doctor.
In the 70's, when I was eighteen, newly married and extremely naive, I got a UTI and called the local hospital where we lived then (Florence, AL) and got a recommendation for a doctor to see. He was a urologist, and I can't remember his name. I tried looking it up on Google, but he's likely dead or retired by now.
To make a long story shorter, after seeing this man for "treatment" over several months time, I was on the examining room table one day when the nurse left the room. The doctor was talking to me and came up beside me on the table, and leaned onto the table with one elbow talking, very close, and it invaded "my space" and made me very uncomfortable. Then he reached over and fondled my breasts while still talking like nothing was going on. At the time, I thought maybe he was just checking me, but later I realized that I had on my clothes, at least on the top part of my body, so why would he check me through my clothes? And he was a urologist, so that would be totally out of his speciality, right? I was eighteen. I never told anyone about it. I stopped going to him and started seeing my family doctor. I didn't even tell my husband.
All these years later, I realize he was an old pervert, and I should have said something at the time, but I was too passive and naive to have said anything.
The reason I put this post on here, is I sort of have a theory that this is not that rare of an occurence among women. In my life, I've shared this with a few friends, and among them had two experiences recounted to me of doctors that, at minimum, made them uncomfortable and have that uh-oh feeling.
Doctor-patient relationships are based on total trust by the patient, and being very vulnerable to a person of the opposite sex, usually, whom you don't know very well. You assume they have your best interest at heart. And thank God most of the time they do. But I'm sure there are weirdos out there getting away with it.

What I Think About Today

1.) I think people judge other people too much. I hate it when I do it. I hate it when others do it. I've found by experience that I am usually wrong about my judgements of others. I think we should give each other a break. I watched a recent episode of Starting Over when a girl was going on and on about why her father couldn't get it together in his life in order to be a good father for her. Her life coach asked, "You mean, like you can't get your life together?" (This girl was 30K in credit card debt and had no sense of responsibility.) The look on that girl's face was priceless- sort of like the deer in the headlights.

2.) Spending at least part of your life making do with very little money, is the best thing that could happen to anyone. It is only by doing without something that you appreciate it when you do have it. That goes for health, housing, food, friends, a job, etc. etc.

3.) George Bush is an idiot. A sneaky underhanded idiot. Yes, I'm being judgemental. But in this case, I'm right.

4.) Living without air conditioning, even for a short period, is hell.

5.) No one should have to cook AND clean up the dishes. One or the other.

6.) I pack too much for trips. I use about 20% of what I pack.

7.) Taking off the good tv shows in the summer should be illegal, too. Did Bonanza stop filming in the summer? I think not.

8.) The only problem I have right now is not having enough time to do the things I want to do, and wasting too much of the time I do have.

9.) There is beauty in imperfections. Imperfections are not imperfections. They make us unique.

10.) As you near menopause, you begin to notice hot guys again like you did when you were nearing twenty, nearing thirty, nearing forty...etc. Being female is a lot of fun.

11.) Women have more power than men. Men just think they have more. Smart women use their power. Dumb women misuse it.

12.) TV is as sexist now as it was during I Love Lucy days, even more so.

13.) A meet-up group for introverts could be very interesting, but no one would show up.

14.) My best writing is when it writes itself.

15.) We teach other people how to treat us.

16.) When I read something that is wise, I should write it down, because in ten minutes, I can't remember it.

17.) I think it would be amazing to get rid of all of our material possessions and buy an RV and take off around the country. My husband, being a packrat, is totally resistant. I could dump this "stuff" and never look back. And I know it would only be FREEING for me.

18.) I wish I could take voice lessons.

19.) Just because you want something badly doesn't mean you'll get it.

20.) I'd love to sell/donate/give away everything I have that isn't a basic necessity of life. I could really enjoy a minimalist lifestyle. My husband, on the other hand, would die.

21.) I hate it when other people write me and tell me what I said/spelled incorrectly. I also hate it when I do it.

22.) 9/11 did not happen the way it was written. The government is hiding a lot of the facts.

23.) When I write posts like this, I wonder how many people are bored stiff reading it.

24.) Nothing makes you feel sexier than fresh polish on your toes. Especially red. A 95 year old women, if you painted her toenails red, would feel sexy.

25.) Why do we love to play in the sprinkler when we are little, and hate to get one raindrop on us when we get older.

26.) Coloring books, paperdolls, Barbies, and jacks should not just be for kids.

27.) The best way to learn about people and what makes others tick is to read www.postsecret.com regularly. The best way to learn about yourself is to send in one.

God, Summer, and Bras

It's been a good week. I opened my eyes this morning and they were on the gold crown on the crucifix hanging in the bedroom (my husband is Catholic), and I thought hm...maybe it's a sign ....good time to count my blessings. So that started my day out feeling much better when I realized how good I've got it.
Then I got up to a clean house because the cleaning lady came yesterday. Not the one that had a heart attack here in the house, but the new one I used to work with. She is fantastic and it's my biggest splurge for myself. There's something about having the whole house clean at the same time that makes the whole world brighter, instead of doing a couple of rooms a day which is how I usually do it. That may not make sense to some of you younger girls, but in the South, if someone comes to your house and it's a wreck, they don't look at your husband. The accusing eyes fall immediately on the wife. It doesn't matter if she's CEO of IBM and has 40 kids and he works part time and sits on his butt drinking beer. In the South, the house is her job. I grew up with that mentality, and knowing my house is clean is like a big deal with me. When it's not, I'm very depressed.
Then I went online and found the 40 buck champion sports bras I love on sale for 19.99. I never find a sale, unless it's after I've already paid full price somewhere else. So I was thrilled. And I found a promotional code that if you enter SHIPFREE at checkout, you get free shipping. So I'm really happy by then. ha. If you're interested it's at www.championcatalog.com . Since I've taken up bike riding (yes I'm still doing it every day! It's getting easier. Not easy. But easier.) I'm paying more attention to my sports clothes. Did you know they make bike shorts with chamois pads to keep your legs from chafing? What will they think of next. Of course with the price tag on them, my legs will just have to make do! And they make them in baggy shorts so you don't have to show all the fat with those skin tight ones.
I went out yesterday and walked through RV's. I want one. Bad. My husband is considering it. I told him we shouldn't wait until we retire because we'll be too old then to enjoy it. I want one of those small ones in the back of an extended van, so we can toolie around and not have to worry about parking some big lug. Plus with gas prices the way they are....So anyway, I go out to look at some. I figured out sales men don't pay a lot of attention to a woman walking around on the lot. But he did offer me a couple of brochures and his business card to "take home to my husband." So when we buy, we won't buy there, but I like the brochures. ha. The one I want is called aRoadTrek. Expensive new but not too bad used.
Other than that, not much going on here. I swear getting out in the sun riding my bike has made me feel better, have more energy and just generally be happier. Maybe my daughter had something there when she sent me the article about SAD.
I'm just glad summer's coming, and I'm looking forward to that big 5-0 birthday now, instead of dreading it.