Throw me a Topic or just a Fail Whale

I am feeling a little blog un-inspired.  I have been trying to find some topics to cover this week and for whatever reason I am coming up empty.

For the past couple of days I have been participating in crazy mad writing challenges.  It has been great.  I have had words flowing from my brain to my fingers without any hiccups. 

But after, when it was time to update my blog I have been coming up empty.  I mean I have nothing.  No topics coming to mind.  I am feeling very inadequate this week.  Almost as if I don't deserve to have a blog or even be writing a blog.  

So I am taking suggestions.  Anything you may or may not want my perspective on.  Do you see how desperate I am here?  I am begging for blogging topics.  Desperation is the true mother of invention, not necessity.  Trust me on this one.  Either that or I need to get my own fail whale to remind me that I can only do so much before I am over capacity.

A Writing Challenge I Didn't Refuse

I love when inspiration hits.  It doesn't matter how it comes about, just so long as it does.

That is what happened to me last week.

While watching TV, writing an update for my blog and watching the happenings on twitter I completely missed a writing challenge.  I am not sure who issued the challenge on this date but after I stumbled across it and did some research I found myself directed to a blog update by @Patrick_Alan (if you are not following him on twitter, go and follow him now) who had originally issued this twitter challenge awhile ago.

I decided on Friday I needed to sit down and give this 1k1h a try.  The rules are simple, and you can find them here.  

When I sat down to begin, I turned on some music, booted up the computer, announced my intention on twitter and set the timer.  I was very motivated.  Mainly because I wanted to be able to go back and announce that I had hit the 1000 words in an hour.  I was not competing against anyone but myself and for some reason this accountability factor had me fired up.  I needed to know I could meet this challenge.  It was vanity pure and simple.

Once I logged out of twitter, in order to stay focused, I opened my latest work in progress and the words were just there.  I didn't have to search for them.  I didn't have to wonder what would come next.  I knew.  It was just all right there.  The fingers had magic in them as they flew across the keyboard.  Sometimes they slowed so I could smell the roses and other times they moved so rapidly, I would have easily taken the pole if it were a NASCAR qualification race.  

Now you should know.  I love to write.  I live to write.  Writing is how I spend my evenings.  I shoot for 500 words a day.  Sometimes I hit and sometimes I miss.  But I don't force myself to write everyday.  I don't even hold myself accountable if I miss on the word count.  But after this challenge it made me rethink how I approach my writing.

On Friday, I not only hit 1000 words, I did it in less than an hour.  By the one hour mark I was at 1500 words and by the time I looked up almost three hours had passed and I had 3500 new words to show for my self imposed challenge.  Did you get that?  Three thousand five hundred new words.  I know, I was pretty blown away by it too.

That was enough to cover my whole weeks worth of writing.  

After thinking about it I realized that accountability was the key here for me, my vanity didn't hurt either.  So at the end of the day what I learned was it doesn't matter where the inspiration comes from, just recognize it for what it is and hold on for the ride.  

With a little help from my friends

So life is pretty great.

I have a fantastic husband.

A beautiful home and a wonderful life.  

Does that sound sappy?  If so I can live with that.  

But this past week was trying.  My husband, whom I adore, was injured.  I had convinced him that with the heat of the day we should complete our work-outs first thing in the morning.  He agreed.  Wednesday would have marked the start of that.  Unfortunately before he even got out of the drive he had a run in with his trikke.

I had started down the street before him, which is normal.  He usually overtakes me pretty quickly because he is really good at this.  But on that morning he went one way and his trikke went another.  Unfortunately when he went down he heard a pop.  

We went to the ER.  It was early so we made good time.  Even though it was barely 5:30 AM it still took us over an hour to be seen by a doctor.  No other patients were present, but we still had to wait.  Oh, the joy of the health care system.

The doctor said he was supposed to stay in bed until yesterday.  That lasted, oh, seven hours.  He cannot stand to be stuck.  Anywhere.  It drives him crazy when he is immobile for any length of time, and guess who gets to go with him?  I know, but that is just one of the perks of marriage.

By Friday he was insisting that he needed to get out of the house.  Being the awesome wife that I am, I took him out for dinner and a walk on the beach.  I know, but he insisted.  Did I mention that he is hard headed? 

He is officially off the bed rest moratorium now and feeling much better.  So tomorrow we should be able to get back to normal, or as normal as he can moving at the speed of cockroach.  

I wanted to say thanks to all my twitter friends for the good wishes and funny thoughts they shared.  Sometimes the littlest things are the biggest help.  

 

Real Friends are Forever

How many friends do you have?  I am talking about the kind of friends you can count on when the chips are down. 

Me?  I can count on one hand the number of BFF's I have.  They are all fantastic and bring supremely different things to my life.

Recently I was reminded how important it is to hang on to those friends and remind them why they are so important to you.  If you have a moment I would like to introduce you to them.

Sister of my heart

Marylee.  The sister of my heart.  We have seen each other through the ups and the downs.  We have held hands through a divorce, three babies and countless other tragedies and blessings that have befallen us.

Sarcastic Friend

Kim.  She is my sarcastic friend and the one most like me in personality, a fact that she would vehemently deny. I am lucky to have her, which she reminds me of on a daily basis.   I was there when she said, "I do." at her Alice in Wonderland Themed Wedding in Vegas where she, as Alice, married her mad-hatter, who by the way is not mad at all.

Non Tattoo Twin (she knows!)

Valerie.  She is my seamstress friend.  One of the most talented people that i know.  We only seen each other about once a year.  But it doesn't matter because each and every time we get together we pick up right where we left off.  I am not even going to take the opportunity to rag her here about the tattoo she totally chickened out on.  Who is keeping score anyway?  Oh right, that would be me.

Most recently acquired Friend

Angela is the last of my gal pals that I want to introduce you to.  She lives the closest to me and we spend quite a bit of time together.  I am very proud of my friend.  She put herself through college and then law school all the while being very supportive to her Navy husband and raising a daughter.  Her friendship comes with no strings and I count myself lucky to count her as one of my closest friends.  And just so you know we were dressed up for Halloween.  We don't wear the witch costumes for any other reasons.  I felt we needed to clear that up.


Recently I heard from another friend that I had lost contact with a few years back.  Our parting was not on good terms but she has made an effort to track me down and start mending the fabric that was our friendship.  I am not sure if we will become what we once were but what I do know is that friendships, the good ones, can be just as important as a marriage. You have to nurture it and take care of it.  You have to show each other the value you place on it through actions and words.

It's not national friendship day or anything, I really just wanted to share.  So tell me about your best pal or pals as I am curious now.

Bite Me I'm Blogging

Recently it has come to my attention that there is a certain blogger etiquette that I, as a blogging enthusiast should follow. I swear (holding hand up) I had no idea there were so many rules. I have been researching this topic as one of my MC's is going to be a professional blogger?

I was asking myself why does she blog. How long has she blogged? Do we have rules for professional bloggers?

I was very surprised when I found out there is a whole community of bloggers who think there should be rules for bloggers. In fact one blogger suggested drafting a bloggers bill of rights? (I apologize for not linking back to said blogger. After a while my head started to hurt.)
 
Really, Blogging etiquette? Who knew?

Wow.
 
I don't know where the blogging police are located but based on some of the research I have done, I think they really do exist. I have never been very good with authority.
 
Rule #1. If someone comes to your blog and follows, you should reciprocate immediately.

Really? What if I don't like the content of their blog? Why do I have to go and follow them back? I didn't personally invite them to follow me, yes I realize that by posting to the world wide web I am "inviting" them, but you know what I mean. If this is the case what about all of the blogs that I follow because I like what they have to say. Not all of them follow me back. Am I supposed to stop following them because I don't get any blog love back? This was only one rule and already I am confused. Somebody hold me please.

The next rule that seemed to be big across the board was in regards to back linking. I agree with ideas of linking back to sites where you were mentioned, or where you received information you are using in a post. Give credit where credit is due. Especially if you use information garnered from said site.

After a couple of hours of research and a headache, I decided to create my own blogger etiquette handbook to use in said work in progress.
 
Since I am still working on what my blogging rules will be I would love to get feedback from you guys. What are your pet peeves when it comes to blogging and your fellow bloggers? Please share, I need inspiration here.

Stripping Can Be a Real Pleasure

The greatest gift a writer can give us is a new way to see the same old world. 

Words can be used to inspire pride; "Ask not what your country can do for you..."  They can be used to instill a greater understanding of world altering events, "One small step for man..."  They can make us tingle because we know we are in the presence of greatness, "I have a dream..." 

They can be used as weapons to pierce and wound.  They can make you laugh, and they can make you cry.  They can be rewarding or they can be used as a punishment.  They can send us to great heights and devastating lows.  Knowing this, understanding this, can make a good writer a great writer.  

Not all people are meant to be writers and not all writers are meant to be great.  But what all writers do have in common is that burning desire to express the characters and the voices in their head.

 

Writing while rewarding, can also be very revealing and writers are, if nothing else, exhibitionists at heart.  We strip ourselves bare and reveal things, sometimes things that we don't even know we are revealing.  I don't think I could dance around a stripper pole in public but I do it every night when I sit down to write.

Taking it all off in the name of story telling is one of the most rewarding, overwhelming, exasperating and intense things I have ever done.  And I continue to do it because it's such a turn on.

Meet My Muse

I had a dream.  Seriously, one of my best dreams.  I was on a lake, the water was cerulean blue.  The grass was vibrant, green and soft.  Flowers were blooming everywhere.  Trees we so tall, I couldn't see the tops.  Rabbits were hopping by me and smiling.  Butterflies were dancing in a dizzying array of colors around my head.  I was enchanted.

I think I was supposed to be.  Because suddenly she was just there.  This nymph fairy with butterfly wings.  She was sitting on a rock that rose from the center of the lake like a thrown.  She was leaning back on the heels of her hands with her ankles crossed swinging her legs, letting her toes trail through the water.  

Her smile was dazzling.  She glittered.  I would have said that she looked to be encased in diamonds, but that sounds to Twilight like.  Let's just say she glittered in technicolor.  Her voice was lyrical.  Her cadence Irish.  I am fanciful that way.  Besides that is the land of my ancestors, so it seemed fitting.

She kept referring to herself as Muse.  It didn't take a genius to figure out who or what she was supposed to be.  We had a great conversation about my aspirations to be a writer.  She actually did more talking than I did.  I found myself sitting crossed leg on the bank of this lovely river listening to her words of wisdom.

The next day when I woke up I was refreshed and energized.  I rushed to my computer and started writing.  She has been with me ever since.  So imagine my surprise when a couple of years ago, I was visiting with a  friend in Scottsdale, Arizona.  We had gone to a novelty shop so she could be read by a spiritual adviser.  While I was in the shop, I stumbled across a statue of a fairy that was so eerily familiar I had to have it.  

She sits proudly on the corner of my desk in my home office.  We speak to each other nearly every day.  She has been a strong inspiration and one of my good friends.  Tell me about yours.

No Joy in the Duty of a Juror

As you know I was required to participate in jury duty.  I have had to distance myself from the experience because I quickly learned that jury duty was anything but joyful.  It was just a duty plain and simple and I walked away with nothing more than a heavy heart.

The trial that I was required to sit for was a State vs. John Doe (changed his name for obvious reasons) case.  John was being accused of committing a battery.  The actual trial itself was very dry and long.  There was a lot of hurry up and wait.  The jury was  constantly being whisked to the jury room because the judge and lawyers had to discuss point that the jury could not be privy to.  This part really frustrated me, because I felt that there was a lot of information we weren't getting.

The prosecution took almost a full day to present their case before they rested.  The lead attorney for the prosecutors office looked extremely young and gave the impression that this was just a job.  I wondered if the State Attorney's Office targets new grads because they can pay them a lot less and because they will be so desperate for court room time they will take almost any case.

I say that because I am not sure that I believe that she believed that she should be prosecuting the case, but merely was doing it because it would be a slam dunk.  They had very damaging, compelling video evidence of the alleged battery.

That being said, his defense was, well the only word I can use to describe it is....lacking.  They were trying to use a smoke and mirrors defense strategy to get us to look at everything else but the actual charge John was being tried for.

At the end of the second day when we were sent in for deliberations I found myself starting to feel ill.  Based on the instructions by the judge there was no other way for me to vote except guilty.  These instructions are very clear.  Did I believe all of the testimony by the prosecutors witness?  Absolutely not.  In fact I even think there were statements made that were out right lies, but in the end, once everyone rested it became clear the prosecutor had a solid case if for no more reason than that damaging video evidence.

We deliberated for a couple of hours.  Not because there was dissent among the jurors, but because none of us wanted to be wrong.  We actually looked for a reason, any reason we could, to find him not guilty, if only because the six of us sitting in that jury room knew we were about to change this man's life inexplicably. 

After all of the deliberation and the review of all the evidence my heart ached.  I didn't believe this man was evil.  I didn't believe this man a monster.  I believe he was provoked and his retribution was was carried to far.  Unfortunately we were not able to decide based on pity or anything else except the facts.  And at the end of the day we had to find him guilty.

I knew when I left the courthouse I had done the job I had been tasked with.  But it was with a heavy heart.  Most people look at jury duty as a nuisance and I can certainly understand that.  For me, well I determined that I really don't ever want to hold the fate of someone else in my hands ever again.  For me jury duty was just that...duty.

My Very first Blog Award

Yesterday I was contacted and advised I had received my first blog award from Karla Nellenbach who is best know to her twitter friends at @LastWord0524

I was so surprised because well to be honest, I was not even aware that I had been nominated.  Of course had I known, I would have just told anyone who asked that the honor was in the nomination alone.  (Which is a total crock.  Hey I am being honest here.  Besides I WON!)  Since I was so caught off guard I had to rely on my husband, who always comes through when I need him.  To read my acceptance speech click here. 

After I was contacted about my win I went right to her blog and was surprised to learn there is a certain Blog award etiquette that you have to follow.  In a nut shell I am supposed to share seven things about myself that you may not already know.  There was more, but that was the part that I got stuck on.

So, here goes.

Seven things I am sure you didn't know about me.  Or maybe you did.

1.  If I could invite three characters from any TV shows, past or present to dinner they would be in no particular order.  Josh Lyman from the West Wing.  NCIS Agent Anthony DiNozzo and Gil Grissom from CSI.

2.  I am a serious software junkie.

3.  I played the flute in the fifth grade.

4.  I have a serious crush on my husband...still.

5.  I can be bribed with bling.  (Any kind, I am not particular.)

6.  I live to boat.

7.  Best advice I ever got:  "Don't take advice from someone you wouldn't want to trade places with."

As I said there was more on the blog award stuff I am supposed to do, and I will, I just need some time to reflect and decide who my victims...er...my nominees will be.  But you can be sure I will write a posting about it once I do.

I also need to design my award.  I want to be original.  So stay tuned.

Meet Captain Kid

Twenty years ago, I was lucky enough to meet my soul mate.  Now, I will be the first to tell you I had mixed feelings about true love.  I didn't really believe in it for myself, but I totally believed in it.

I can still remember growing up.  I was very vocal in my desire to never get married.  I would tell anyone who listened that marriage was not in the cards for me.  Thankfully, I grew out of my stupid phase. 

My first words to my future husband were "You have beautiful eyes."  I was totally mesmerized by him and them.  They are the color of the sky on a cloudless, clear day.  I literally can get lost gazing into them.  I know that is corny but it is true.

He is a good man and I am a lucky girl.  Not only am I married to this wonderful guy, he just happens to be my best friend.  I love hanging out with him and we still have fun together.  

My husband has three major loves.  His boat, his computer gaming system and me.  I feel fortunate that I at least made the top three.  

He is very particular about everything he does.  He never starts a job that he can't finish.  If he encounters problems he doesn't stop until he finds the answer.  He is a card carrying weekend warrior and loves taking on new home improvement projects.  

He is mechanically inclined.  He loves electronics.   He is a master gamer, a wizard with the vacuum and he loves playing with our three little furry friends.

He is my night in shining armor who always lets me be me.  He truly is the wind beneath my wings.  When I tell him that he gives me that charming grin and reminds me he would rather be beneath something else.  

He isn't perfect, but he is perfect for me.

The Joy of Jury Duty

Today I was required to participate in one of the most fundamentals rights we have as citizens.  Our judicial process.  And while last week I was making jokes and looking for ways to get out of it, I was actually glad that I made my appearance and fulfilled my duty.

A couple of things I learned about the judicial process today.

1.  Always eat breakfast before you go because the lawyers and judges work in a different time zone than the rest of us.

2.  Take a parka with you.  Note: I said a Parka because I believe I actually traveled to Alaska for jury service.  The building was so cold I think I froze things off.  (Don't ask.)

3.   Voir Dire should not be confused with Joie De Vivre.  One means Joy of life and the other means say the truth.  For whatever reason, I kept getting the two of these confused today.  The lawyers kept telling me I shouldn't be enjoying myself so much. I guess this was the wrong place for me to try out my stand up routine.

4.  Lunch is non existent when you spend the day with lawyers.  This must be how the rumor got started about all lawyers being blood suckers. 

 

That is what I learned today.

I did get selected for a jury and will start tomorrow, so come back and I will let you know how it goes.

Retiring My Weekend Warrior Card - Again

For those of you who didn't know, my floors are done.  My floors are done.   Thank God Almighty, my floors are done!

Getting ready for this project seemed to take forever and I kept blaming it on Captain Kid.  In truth, it wasn't really his fault.  It had more to do with my controlling tendencies and dislike of chaos than it did with his Floor Nazi persona.  (I am going for the whole truth here.)

I had a plan on where everything needed to go as we moved furniture out of one room and stacked it in another.  Because let's face it, it really IS important if the recliner went in my office or his.

And there were some hard truths I learned about myself that I thought I would share.

1.  Chaos is my enemy, always taunting me and trying to mess with my head.

2.  My husband is a perfectionist.  And I freaking love him for it.

3.  Installing floors is not hard as long I get to be in charge.

4.  Music is necessary when it comes time to letting out my Zena Weekend Warrior Princess. 

5.  I am always happiest at the end of the job as I can gaze at all the hard work I supervised.

Twitter You Tease

Yesterday Twitter was a tease.

And not a very nice tease at that.

I couldn't get my tweet deck to work and never mind about tweeting from the desktop.  That stupid whale kept cropping up saying that twitter was over capacity.  What does that even mean?   How dare twitter be over capacity.

So instead of getting angry and stomping around my office.  (I have been off twitter for a couple of days for vacation and while I can quit anytime I want I hate interventions) I forced myself to do what I always do when faced with something I don't like.  I looked for the silver lining.  (It was too early in the day to start drinking.)

And looked.

And looked.

And you know what?  I didn't find it. 

Twitter sucked me in with its snazzy 140 characters or less instant message system.  It seduced me with all of the new friends I have made.  It tricked me into trying new things and convinced me that blogging was a good thing too.

And how does twitter repay me today?  It stopped working.  Right when I needed it most.  

I missed important conversations regarding Firefly.  I missed blog updates from my tried and true's.  I missed being there in real time when my tweeps needed me most.  Okay, that is a little melodramatic, but you get my meaning.

It's going to take a couple of days for me to forgive twitter, if I ever do.

Oh who am I kidding.  I won't be able to live without it.

Don't look now, Twitter here I come!

Reading: An Obssessive Love

I am a voracious reader.  I suck books down like an alcoholic sucks down, well, alcohol. 

My love of reading was inspired by my late Gram who loved to read and encouraged me to take up the habit quite early. 

Yesterday I found myself rummaging through my book room (that sounds so much less pretentious than saying rummaging through my library) looking for something to carry with me to the beach.  

As my eyes roamed across the book shelves I found them lingering on a hard back book that was my favorite as a girl.  (I also have it in paperback.)

Jane Emily by Patricia Clapp.  This story was written in 1969 and is a classic ghost story about a selfish and willful little girl named Emily who dies before her thirteenth birthday.

Jane is nine years old and orphaned when she finds herself traveling with her Aunt Louisa to visit her Grandmother for the summer.

One day Jane finds herself gazing upon the reflecting ball in the garden, but the face staring back her is not familiar.  It seems that even though Emily passed away many years ago, her spirit is still there and her intention for Jane is not harmless at all.  

I read this story when my age was still in the single digits and loved it.  

This book started it all for me.  That thirst for reading.  For stories that took me away from my life and introduced me to places and things I could only imagine.  I learned that I could travel the world, sail the seas, or fly to far off lands with nothing more than the written word.

This was also the very first book that I found myself wanting to read over and over again.  Each time I picked it up I saw something different.  

It became a tradition for me to read this book every Christmas until I moved out at the age of eighteen.  

Two years ago when my Grandmother passed away I went home to say my goodbyes and as we were going through her things I stumbled across a copy of this beloved book from my youth.  

I learned that she had purchased a copy of the book when a local library was being closed because she knew it was my favorite and she wanted a copy for herself.  

It was one of the most touching things she had ever done.  It was the sweetest gift she had ever given me and it took her passing away for me to even know about it. 

So what was the book that did it for you?  Will you share?  No really, tell me because I want to know.  

On another note, I wonder what it says about me that the first book that spoke to me was a ghost story about a selfish little girl living in a reflective ball?  Probably nothing more than I had great taste.  Right?  Right?

Boys Comparing the Size of their Wood

As you know we are installing a new floor, what you didn't know was that my totally terrific brother-in-law flew down from Michigan to help with the installation.  (Yes ladies and gentlemen, he is one in a million.)  This worked well for me because The Floor Nazi was driving me crazy.

What I never realized is how exactly alike the two brothers actually are.  Gestures, favorite sayings, how they do the same job.  There is a nine year age difference between them, but besides that, they really could be twins.  

Captain Kid on the left and Future Daddy on the right

My sister-in-law and I were thrown back in time as we watched them try to one up each other and tease one another about how badly the other sucked.  They cracked each other with dumb jokes and sounds that I didn't even know a body could make and although they were working their butts off had a great time bonding together.

I heard things like, "Don't touch my wood."  Followed by hysterical giggles.  "Bob Vila eat this."  I don't know what they wanted him to eat.  "Bet my wood is bigger than yours."  And believe me when I tell you it went on and on.

I will be the first to tell you I don't get all of the jokes, and quite frankly, don't want to.  But it did warm my heart to see my husband spend some quality time with his little brother. 

This little brother in particular is going to be a Daddy in August.  He is very responsible and loving and I have faith that he will be a great one, at least I am positive on that score until these two get together and let their inner ten year old's loose.

The floor is coming along nicely and the best part is I don't have to do it.  Okay, that was a joke, sort of.  No, the best part really is that while I don't have to do it, I have the knowledge that my husband is getting to spend the next five days with one of his favorite people.  And I am getting a new wood floor out of the deal.

And at the end of the day, I guess it was worth not paying the pro's to do the installation after all.

But if you tell him I said it I will flat out deny it.

Sometimes you gotta let the man be the man

I love my husband.  He is the best man I have ever known.  Plus he gets me.  Every little quirky thing about me and he loves me anyway. 

When I got married my Gram told me to remember to always let him be the man.  (I guess I had a tendency to emasculate some of them.  I don't know.) I have never had to worry about that with Captain Kid.  He doesn't threaten too easy.  Besides, he appreciates the fact that I am take charge kind of gal.

One of the things I love best about him is he is the most easy going person you will ever meet.  It takes a whole lot to ruffle his feathers.  But when they get ruffled watch out.

A couple of boating seasons ago, when we had the baby boat, it was in the shop for its yearly update, plus there was some engine problem that needed to be addressed.  My husband was the one that took it and dropped it off.  He left instructions with the guys to "just get to it as soon as you can."

After the second month of not hearing anything I pointed out that with company coming to town we may want to call and check.

Captain Kid shrugged it off and assured me it would get taken care of in time.  I wasn't so optimistic but I kept it to myself.

The Monday before our company arrives, he calls me very upset.  It seems that boat guy really didn't understand after all.  Shocking!  They haven't even looked at baby boat yet.  Can I believe that?  He has no idea what we are supposed to do now, we need our boat. 

I tried to ask questions but it became pretty clear pretty quickly that he was not coherent enough to answer any of them.  From what I gathered by the ranting and raving coming through the phone, boat guy may have been born out of wedlock and his mother's moral code was under scrutiny too.  He also let boat guy know how extremely unhappy he was. 

I tried to calm him down as best I could but I had left my cape home that day (Confessions of a Super Hero ) it was being dry cleaned, so I was not much help.  I had the audacity to suggest he should explain our situation; boat guy may be more inclined to help out.  Wrong answer.  After we got off the phone I decided to give boat guy a call and find out what was going on.

Boat guy wasn't braying over the phone so I was convinced that Captain Kid had it wrong when he said he was a jack ass.  In fact he was very nice.  He explained that when my husband had brought in the boat he said there was no rush.  Translated; that means whoever screams the loudest is going first.  After a few minutes of me explaining our situation, I asked if he could just take a look at it and let me know how long before he could get to it. 

About thirty minutes later I got a call back advising that the engine problem had been minor and the tune up could be done by the next day.  Hallelujah!

I asked boat guy to call Captain Kid.  I started to explain that it would be better coming from him, and let's face it boat guy didn't want to alienate my husband.  This guy was no dummy and agreed to do it right away. 

Fifteen minutes later the phone rang.

Captain Kid "Hey I just heard back from boat guy."

Me  "Oh."

Captain Kid "Yeah, he finally got his head out of his ass.  They can have it all done by tomorrow for me to pick up after work."

Me "Honey, that's great.  I guess it worked out after all."

Captain Kid sighed "Sometimes you just don't get it.  They don't always respond to that nice crap.  He didn't care that we had company coming in.  What he did understand was me taking my business elsewhere.  Now I don't have too."

Me "I am just really glad it worked out."

Capatain Kid "Sometimes it just works out better if you let me handle these things my way."

I guess Gram knew what she was talking about after all.

Battle of the Sexes

In my home there are very clear boundaries about who is responsible for which household chores.  It is not so bad as to say the line is drawn between his and mine, but there is a balance of power that has to be choreographed.

Here is the thing, I can't live in chaos.  Chaos of any kind.  I believe that everything has a place and it needs to be in that place when it is not being used.  Captain Kid on the other hand has a more, shall we say, messy way liberal approach to organization.  In certain areas of the house I have learned to let it go.

His office.  When we first built our house we planned on sharing one office.  When I remember that I just smile and think to myself, "Oh Kelly, how young and naive you were back then."  Now.  The door to that room is shut pretty much on a permanent basis.  I respect that it is his room.  That being said I would be lying if I didn't mention that I sometimes find myself standing on the threshold looking into that black hole of disorganization wishing he would let me organized it.

The Garage is another one of those gray areas that falls under the category of places in the house I don't want to lay claim to.  Although there are times when I find myself being forced to venture into the man cave.  It is filled with greasy, dirty things.  And I don't like greasy, dirty things.  These are all things that he swears we can't live without.

For the most part his domain covers his office, the garage and the front and back yards.  This does include the cars.  My domain is the inside of the house and this seems to work well for us.

On Saturday he deemed that I needed to clean the pool since he was busy working on the inside getting everything ready for the floor installation this weekend.  (I will be so glad when this project is done) I hate cleaning the pool, okay I don't hate it, but it was like 120 degrees outside and there was no way he was releasing me from the chain gang long enough to clean the pool and than take a dip.  This called for drastic measures.

I started by spraying off the deck.  I made sure I threw enough water on the sliders to keep him aware that I was working in what is "technically" his domain.  I was also sending subliminal messages his way warning of my ineptitude when it comes to these projects.

In a much shorter time span than I expected, he came outside to check my work under the guise of taking a break.  It became very clear to him very quickly that I did not understand the finer nuances of taking care of the pool and the deck and he proceeded to tell me what I was doing wrong.  (He is very considerate that way.)

Unfortunately, I just did not seem to get it.  (I am a little slow that way) Thankfully he was there to take over.  So after five minutes outside in which time I halfheartedly sprayed off the deck, I was released from my sentence and sent back into the house. 

Yep, that's how it's done.  Besides I had to go inside and clean the kitchen, he forgot to clean the counters again.  Or did he? 

Sucker...still after all these years.

This weekend we spent our holiday a little different than usual.  Oh we still had the Memorial Day celebration, because no way was I missing out on that tradition.

Saturday and Sunday was spent dismantling our house.

We are putting wood floors in the living room and the hallway.  In order to do this we had to move all the furniture into different areas of the house and rip up the carpeting.

I need to back up a little bit here and give you some of the back story.  Captain Kid and I are into our nineteenth year of our happy ever after and we retired the weekend warrior mentality after a kitchen tiling project that went terribly wrong.

That being said, I am not sure how I got suckered into another weekend project that has now spanned into it's fourth week.

I was serious when I said I was done with these types of jobs.

I was serious when I said it was worth it to pay the professionals to do it.

I was serious when I said death may result if we attempted any more home improvement projects.

But do I remember any of those things when he looks at me with those killer blue eyes?  Do I remember when he purrs through that "I have a secret to share with you" grin?  And did I mention his dimples?  He has three, two on each side and one in the chin.  Do I remember when he promises, cross my heart and hope to die promises?  And lets not forget his famous last words; "you won't have to do a thing"?  

Of course not and do you want to know why?

Because I am a sucker.

The biggest sucker.  And he knows it.

But I will gladly take one for the team because, putting aside all his super anal tendencies when he does a job he does it well.  Not just well, but better than the pro's.  He is obsessive compulsive that way.

On the bright side the floors are going to look amazingly spectacular when we are done, if we ever get to done, and I mean this, if we don't kill each other first.

Wish me luck.  Or him.  One of us is going to need it.