The reason boot cut jeans exist.

Last summer I went to the Adirondacks.  While there, my sister comes out in the most amazing boots.  I may or may not have drooled.  They were worn and rugged and cool.  She wears them when she goes horseback riding which made them even cooler.

I wore them one afternoon when I rode a horse for the first time in about 30 years.  This was to get over my fear of horses.... besides the point.
I believe those worn, rugged and cool boots gave me confidence.  I spent a lot of time looking down at my feet... even on top of that horse... bareback.

"What kind of boots are these?"
"Those are Frye boots".
"What?"
"Frye.  It's the brand."

The day I get back from NY I search online.  Where do I get these Frye boots??  What are these Frye boots??  Well, they're $218 is what they are and I've never spent more than $49.99 on footwear (except my running shoes which I no longer run in).

"They never go on sale", I'm told.

I'm bound and determined to get these boots.... someday.

Well, today is that day, folks!

I found them on Amazon.com for a lot less so I snatched them up and did another thing I never do... I charged those bad boys... because they're worth it and gosh darn it, so am I.

Hell mutha effin' yeah.

Icky inside.

Today I am full of negative energy.

I want to move but my place is worth nothing.
I'm vibrating with anxiety - I even took a brisk walk to shake it off.
My chin no longer exists as it has merged with my neck (good thing i took a walk).
I don't want to have to listen to my downstairs neighbor's music while I watch Charmed.
I don't know if it's still acceptable to wear skinny jeans with tall boots - I want to wear both.
Sam won't leave me alone; he loves me too much.
People who can't multitask frustrate me.
This year has gone by too fast.

Of course things could be worse, I could have to fight demons and evil warlocks daily like the Charmed Ones.

D.C.

A few days ago I returned from a trip to Washington, DC.
This is the last of my "must see" places in the US.

The first day I pretty much spent most of my time saying, "Omigod!  I'm in DC"!

Washington Monument

White House

Orangutan Crossing (National Zoo)

Panda (National Zoo)

National Cathedral

Ford Theater where Lincoln was assassinated.

Mary Lincoln's gown

Lincoln's hat he was wearing when he was assansinated.

Iwo Jima

Tomb of the Unknowns

Vietnam Memorial

Korean War Memorial

Waiting to ride an elevator to the top of Washington Monument.

Spirit of St. Louis

The United States Capital

There was so much to see and do in DC.  To list everything we saw and did would make the list quite long but it would include:

The Hope Diamond
Archie Bunker's Chai
All the inauguration gowns of the First Ladies
The Declaration of Independence, the Bill of Rights, the Constitution,  Emancipation Proclamation
The Exorcist stairway in Georgetown
The flag that inspired the writing of the song "Star Spangled Banner"
Library of Congress
John Kennedy's resting place and eternal flame.
Tomb of the Unknowns changing of the guard
Lincoln Memorial, Jefferson Memorial, WWII Memorial
Union Station

And so much more.  To see it all with my own eyes; original documents that are hundreds of years old, artifacts that founding fathers wore or used or held...  It's unforgettable.

Black toes and green fingers

When you spend 2 1/2 hours with a little girl just one month shy of turning four, you'd think things could get a little hectic.  Those buggers have a lot of energy.

I have the sweetest little goddaughter there ever was.


We went to the dining establishment of her choice - McDonald's.  I have never heard someone exclaim the deliciousness of a McNugget over and over the way she did.  Apparently I'm missing out with the cheeseburger.

Even though it's 95 and humid, a park in full sun is what she asks for.  As I slowly melt away, I talk her into leaving for another park, a more shaded park.  To her this means only one thing: TWO PARKS!!

Me: Let's go on the swings so we can catch a breeze.

J:  Okay, push me high!  Whoo-hoo!  Yeah!

We swing in silence.  The breeze feels good.

J:  This is nice.

Me: It is.

J: I like spending time with you.

It took everything in me not to jump up and eat her with kisses and squeeze her little head.  I gathered myself...

Me: I like spending time with you too.

When a three year old who is almost four says things like that to you, you color her toes black and her fingers green because that's what she wants.

Love boxed up for safe keeping.

A friend of mine recently said, "I feel like you go down Memory Lane everyday".

I really had a very happy childhood.  I have far more happy memories than sad.  Although my parents separated when I was six and divorced when I was seven, I didn't have one of those "I had to grow up fast" kind of childhoods.  I suppose I learned coping skills and took on a different kind of role than the role I would have taken had my parents stayed together. (They write books on this stuff!)  I was the one (and still very much am) that tries to make everyone happy, comfortable, content, less lonely... I work hard to avoid conflict and make everything better before it can get worse.  Sometimes it's exhausting and sometimes it's effortless.

What am I getting at?  I think my mom was sad and lonely a lot after her divorce.  I don't remember it specifically but I must have sensed something because I took on this "duty" to make sure she knew she was loved very, very much.  If by nobody else, at least she was loved by me.  I remember singing "You Are So Beautiful" to her when I was about nine and she felt embarrassed, maybe unworthy of the title.  I made me sad for her so I sang it loud and clear.

This brings me to my point.  I remember , when I was nine, ten, and older, leaving her notes to find when she came home (where was she??  Perhaps out with her boyfriend at the time.)  I would miss her so much.  I left notes simply stating "To Mom - I LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!!" in every way possible.  Decorated with stickers, markers, crayon, yarn.  On lined paper, plain paper, construction paper and a combination of all.  I even made messages from needlepoint.  You read that right.

embroidery and crayon

I know my mom loves me with every fiber of her being.

Saturday afternoon I was digging through a bin she had marked "kid stuff".  Inside were every report card, every tooth, every school project, every mother's day card, birthday card, Easter card my older brother and I made.  I choked up a little finding that she kept a small cardboard jewelry box that I had given her as a gift.  I had torn up paper into tiny little pieces and put it in the box.  My mom tells me when she opened it, I "patted my little finger in the confetti of paper and said in a soft voice, 'see?  It's soft so you can put things in it' ".

She still has all the proof of how much I (we) love her in a box.

embroidered garden

I don't wear "mackup".

Saturday evening I met my friend and her two girls (my goddaughters) at Perkins (where kids eat free on Saturday nights!)

As soon as I sat down Anna (8) says to nobody in particular: There's something that looks different about Auntie Laura.

Me: I'm not wearing any makeup.

Anna: Oh.  You look really different.

Me:  I suppose it's because you've really only seen me with makeup on.

Anna sits looking at me trying to figure out how someone could look so different.

She asks if I have a pen, she asks her mom for a piece of paper.

Me: What are you going to write?

Anna:  It's a surprise.

Without me realizing, she slips the note in front of me.

The only response I could come up with was: I don't wear "mackup".

Road kill

I am very sensitive to animals.  I'm pretty sure they can talk (thanks to Disney), they have families and they are just trying to survive and provide.

I hate when I kill one with my vehicle.

First it was a raccoon... back in '90.  I was late getting home (curfew you know) and speeding my way east on 494, only a couple other cars on the road at 1 a.m. ( I was going to be soooo late!).  Suddenly, this fat raccoon starts waddling across the freeway.  Seriously?  Who does that?

No time to break.  BAM!  Tagged the sucker.  Thumpa-thump.  I run over him going 60 mph.  I look at the rear view mirror and he's still bouncing from the impact.  Jeez.

Flash forward about 20 years.  I'm running late for work one morning (yes, I tend to run on the late side of things).  Stupid squirrel!  It darts out, runs back, freezes, darts out again.  BAM!  Hit him going 30 mph on a side road.  The rear view mirror reveals a spastically twitching tail.  Ugh.

Now today, the cruise set at 72 mph, PING!  A flippin' bird, enjoying his morning flight, dippin' and swayin', wind in his feathers... tags the frame on the side of the windshield (thankfully no blood, no feathers).  Looking in the rear view mirror, the collision gave him another five feet of air but sadly he crashed.  Oh-no.

Thankfully I'm not partial to insects because I'd be a mess driving with all the bug juice on the windshield.