Car (Costs) Lots

Buying a car stinks. Seriously, I hate it. In fact, I dislike this little ritual so much that up until now I have not even particapted in it. I tell my husband what I want and he goes and deals with it. I told you he was great!

But here's the whole story- we don't actually need a new car. I mean as far as the vehicle being reliable and running well and all that, ours is great. In fact, I like my car very much. Unfortunately, our car is not very big. And unfortunately, I did not do a great deal of research when we purchased it. I thought, incorrectly, that I could travel with half of my backseat folded down therefore, being able to hold 5 passengers and the wheelchair. Also, when we purchased the Buick we did not yet have a wheelchair. Now we do.

So, I figure we'll go and trade this car in for the minivan I should have bought 2 1/2 years ago and that will be that. Wrong. I paid just over $30,000 for my car exactly 2 1/2 years ago. It is now worth $11,500. Even with 0% financing I owe a good bit more than it's worth. How bout them apples?

Isn't that sickening? Literally it makes me want to hurl.

So I guess we'll be cruisng along with not enough room for a while longer. I just don't know if I can stomach buying a car ever again. It is painful to think about how quickly the value drops, ridiculous really.

Shopping Trip

These would be the best candy invented since well, let's just go with EVER. They are yummy. The only thing that could make them better, they already did. They made them pink. Dark Chocolate wrapped up in a tiny pink package- hello! Go forth and get you some.

Then you should go straight to Philosophy.com while eating your yummy Dark Chocolate M&M's and you should buy the Gingerbread Man. It is THE best bath product ever. And you should trust me because I have bought them all. Yes, I have. ALL of them and this one is the best. Go get it and get me some too. And don't worry it doesn't smell like Gingerbread. I don't understand it either but it doesn't. It smells like Ginger Ale. Rub a tiny bit on your skin and I promise you won't care what it smells like. And it has the added benefit of looking like you rolled in the mud after you get it all over you. If you always thought you'd look hot after mud wrestling well, you can test that theory out. I am not personally into that but whatever floats your boat.

And if you still feel like shopping then you could take pity on a girl in dry county (who also happens to be on a "spending freeze") and you could go get this. It makes the best margaritas known to man. I have tasted them ALL and I know. Okay, so I haven't tasted them all. You're right, not even close. But I didn't need to taste anymore after the Patron one, okay?

Those Were the Days

I had to make a surprise trip to my hometown yesterday. Well, it used to be my hometown. I don't think of it that way anymore. The landmarks have all changed. I had a difficult time navigating and was even thinking I was lost at one point. It was a strange experience. Most of my experiences are strange but still.

I came to realize last night as I was driving home in the dark jammin' to some Third Day that it simply isn't my home anymore. When I arrive there I don't sigh with relief and think "Whew! I'm home!" I think where in the heck did THAT come from? Everytime I turn a corner.

The relief and I'm home feeling comes from HillBillyville and my husband. Where he and my children are is home and always will be. I suspect that has something to do with my lack of attachment to a particular structure as home. That and the fact that I moved something like 25 times as a child.

And because for the last 7 years where they have been is HillBillyville then that, is home. I have become one of those people. I think of the city where I grew up as "the big city" and therefore, I do not want to go. We laughed at people who called it a big city back in the day. Of course, back in the day I wore blue eyeshadow so maybe I shouldn't have been laughing at anybody.

Outer Limits

Our Sunday school teacher said on Sunday, "Stephenville continues to push the limits of the old saying There's No Such Thing As Bad Press." Really couldn't have said it better myself.

Yes, I am sure you have heard by now, we have UFO's out here in Hillbilly Land.

They were spotted a couple weeks ago and as Casey likes to say it's been "pandelerium" ever since. News trucks everywhere, Larry King Live was here over the weekend. Alien t-shirts and parties and hats made of foil, oh my!

Every marquee in town has a comment about it- Spaceships Park in the Back, Honk If You've Seen a UFO, Aliens Like Tacos Too, and Martians Eat Free. Seems most everyone has a comment as well. Dunk's second grade classmates all have an opinion- they thought maybe the people just saw a paper plate and thought it was a flying saucer. And then of course, the news agencies like to get their opinions in without really saying anything. They just make sure to get a nice wideshot of the doublewide behind the guy talking about the "bright, shining light".

It's all been a little fun, really. I am mean I am so over the whole "get a load of these crazy rednecks" deal so I find it funny. I am completely aware that the rest of the nation is laughing at us, I am laughing with them. And I am not sure I have laughed as hard as I did when I heard this last tidbit in years- I didn't hear this one first hand, it was reported to me by my husband and I honestly thought he made it up but I was wrong. One man spotted the UFO through the scope on his deer rifle and he thought about shootin' it but he "didn't want to start an intergalactic war." Just think about that today when you hit a rough spot, I guarantee that image will make you smile.

Tidbit of Americana

Here's a fun little fact for you- you need a Social Security card to renew your Driver's License. You need a current, non-expired Driver's License to get a Social Security card. Think on that for awhile.

Yeah. I lost my Social Security card. Actually, I believe that I have hidden it from myself. Very well, I might add. I do need to say that I have the Social Security cards for the other three members of my family, so I shouldn't be labeled irresponsible. Flighty maybe, but not irresponsible. Anyway- the card is not in my house. I know because I spent approximately eight hours last Wednesday looking for it. I dumped drawers, emptied cabinets, dug through files, even poured out trash. Uh-huh, it was a good day.

I was literally near tears. And here is the part where you can call me irresponsible. I needed the card because my license expired-
four months ago. I know, I know. Whatever.

So, I am in somewhat of a panic because I have finally realized that the license expired four months ago and I really need to renew it. But I can't without the card. So, after eight hours of searching I began to come to terms with the fact that I may need to get a replacement SS card. I begin to try to find the requirements for doing so. And that's when I discovered it. You must have a current Driver's license. Some words went through my mind at that point. Some bad words.

At this point it's a toss up from just giving up and hoping I never get stopped again or trying to find a solution. But, I figure that at some point having an expired license is going to be a problem. So, in a last ditch effort I call the DMV. And I politely ask if I need my SS card to renew my license. The girl who answered the phone was as sweet as cherry pie (there are benefits to the small town life, I cannot stress that enough) and she explained that I may or may not it would just depend on the computer. I decided to try it.

I now have in my possession a temporary license that is current and I still have no idea where my SS card is. Seems the DMV computer system believed I was who I said I was- what the heck that means I have no idea. But I took that temporary permit and drove straight to the tax assessor's office to pay for and pick up my registration that had only expired two months prior.

Oh yes, I am completely serious.

Firearms and Other Redneck Pastimes

These are my boys. They went huntin' for the first time several days ago. Well, actually as my son explained they were really just "lookin' " not shooting anything. He needed to go as he got his first firearm for Christmas.

I was, at first, somewhat bothered by this particular hobby. I have adjusted to it over the years but am still somewhat uncomfortable thinking about my son wanting to go "shoot something" The fact that he would be happy shooting pretty much anything bothers me more than the hunting aspect of it. Though, there's no doubt, hunting simply isn't my cup of tea.

I don't want to go sit out in the woods and be quiet and smell bad on purpose. I don't want to be quiet- period. I don't want to see blood and guts. I really don't care that much for seeing the animals alive. I know, shocking. I sure as heck don't want to see the animals once they are dead. Bring dead animal meat into my house that did not come from the local H-E-B and I will be the one who goes huntin'.

But, I am kinda over it. The absolute, pure little boy love for going out with his Daddy and sharing this particular Redneck custom makes up for the fact that I sort-a hate it. His complete joy when he went out with his Dad and his desire to learn and understand all aspects of it make it easier to stomach. The fact that I hit a deer and it almost totaled my Suburban and then my husband hit another deer on his way to pick me up from said Wildlife Altercation, helps too.

Life's a Beach?

Well, my hunky hubby took me out for steak for our anniversary. It was good. The atmosphere was frightening but that was a given since we didn't leave town. I love this town, I really do. But living here has it's sacrifices.

Actually, I would be very open to moving- it's the other 3 people I live with that need convincing. I think we should all move to the beach and open up a shrimp shack. Or maybe we could buy a ranch in Montana and I could home school ours kids while Casey worked cattle. I guess he would need to know how to work cattle first, right?

I guess we'll stay. Although, the beach thing has potential I think. I would love to live at the beach. I have no idea why.

I'm actually a little bit afraid of the water. Yeah, probably shouldn't move to the beach.

The Story So Far.........

I have been fortunate, I suppose, in that I have not made many huge, life-altering bad decisions. Don't get me wrong, I have made some poor choices. And I live with the consequences of those. But because I am cautious and analytical I tend to over think things. To a fault. To a point where my mistakes have usually been more of the "not taking the chance" sort.





So, it is particularly amazing to me that I made one of the best choices of my whole life 11 years ago today. I was just a girl. I still doodled on notebook paper and chewed bubble gum. The fact that God gave me the insight to take such a wonderful risk- well, it's miraculous.





And the man who God brought into my life when I was a mere 16 years old- and who stood there at the altar of the First United Methodist Church and took the same risk as I did- well, he's a miracle too.





He's not perfect. He leaves his dirty socks and pants next to the bed everyday. And he tracks nasty bits of french fry crud into my house everyday. And he expects me to feed him dinner almost everyday (oh okay, at least once a week) But folks, have you met me?





These days I am a pretty good wife. I do what I can. But 11 years ago, I was a girl. A pain-in-the-ass little girl. We have explored many of my neurotic tendencies here, this man lives with those on a regular basis. We won't even go into the OCD issues I've had for years. But let's just say the phrase "Go check the door again" is pretty familiar to him. Especially after he's gotten into a warm cozy bed on a cold night. And then there's my hobby. Or what he calls it- shopping.





Nevermind that neither of us grew up with our immediate families intact. He didn't have the role models to look to, He didn't have the mentor to tell him how to make it work. Yet, he made that desicion from the start, to stick with it.





He is involved in every aspect of our children's lives. When he's not there, they miss him. He is there for them in a way that he did not know as a child. He was never afraid to change a diaper, or go to a Dr. appt. , or attend a school conference. Many days at the restaurant he hears " Hey you're Duncan's Dad!" or "Hi! Caroline's Daddy!". And he couldn't be more proud at those moments.





He is the first person I want to call when I get good news. And his face is the first I want to see when something bad happens.





He understands all my wacky, weird tendencies. Okay, he probably doesn't understand them but he puts up with them. He endured more interference from my family than one should ever have to. And he didn't even gripe about it for years. And when he did, he was kind and understanding. He even endures my strange love for Disney World. And he particpates in it. Even enjoys it. Oh how I love that man.





In all seriousness, he is the best man I have ever known. He has strong beliefs and lives according to those, the best he can. He values his wife and children in a way that is not so common these days. He believes in the value of hard work and he works harder than anyone I know. He understands what it means to "work your way up" because he did it. And he understands the importance of that. He knows that it's okay to be silly sometimes. And he gets my sense of humor. He makes an excellent chocolate martini. And he earns a good, honest living.





Eleven years ago we took a huge risk and said "I do". It was without a doubt the right choice. I couldn't be more thrilled to be his wife. The mother of his children. He is the love of my life.





Happy Anniversary Casey, I love you.

Happy New Year Issues

Well, Happy New Year! Woohooo, Hooray, Whatever. New Year's doesn't do much for me anymore. It's sort-of a weird day to celebrate, dontcha think? I mean, Woweeee! It's the end of the month. Eh, I don't get it.

But now it's the beginning of a new year. That should be a celebratory time, I suppose. But my favorite time is the end of the year. September to January 4th. My birthday to my anniversary. Also encompassing Halloween, Fall, Thanksgiving, and Shopping errrr, I mean Christmas.

So, this is sort-of a mourning period for me. My favorite time has ended. Don't get me wrong, I have more favorites. Summer is a big hit with me now that my kiddos are in school. I look forward to the lazy days, weekend trips, and daily adventures we come up with. By the time the end of May comes around I am longing for an escape from the daily grind of our schedule. I am also longing for someone (anyone, please!!!) to buy this house so I can use the money I have stashed to run off to Orlando again instead of using it for mortgage payments.

So really, my favorite time is from Summer til now. Hmmm, it's the first half of the year I have issues with, I guess. But as you all know, that's just the tip of the iceberg as far as my issues go.