What About the Puppies?

Okay, I've tried it, I don't like, now give me my newspaper back! I'm talking about the new changes the Detroit Newspapers have been forced to make due to falling profits, low advertising revenue, and the advance of the electronic world.

Yesterday was the first day of the reduced home delivery schedule. From now on, the Free Press and News will only be home delivered three days a week--Thursday, Friday and Sunday.  I will miss reading the ACTUAL newspaper from cover to cover every day and I will especially miss it on Saturday mornings.  It has been a ritual for me and Ed for the last 20 years to sit and have our morning coffee with each other while reading the paper. Depending on the lap Stanley has crawled into to snuggle, the other one has to get up and get the second cup of coffee for them because of the "baby."  

In the winter, we're in the family room.  In the summer we read it on the patio while watching the birds buzz around, using multiple paper weights on windy days, laughing out loud and sharing stories. Although, I have to admit, you have to be in the right frame of mind for that sharing stories thing.  Sometimes, I'm the chatty one, reading to Ed excerpts from articles I find incredible, hilarious, or heartbreaking.  Other times he is eager to share with me.  Whatever the case, if the "sharee" is too interested in their own article and not interested in what the "sharer" has to say, then people tend to get crabby. Sitting around reading the paper with my dad is even worse!  I realized this over the winter when they came home for a week to stay with us.  It was shortly after Ed was let go from his job, so all of four of us were home in the morning sharing the paper and having our coffee.  On many occasions I found myself having to say to my dad "stop reading the entire paper to me please."  Apparently, reading one small snippet from the article that interested him was not sufficient.  He had to read the whole article to get his message across.

But I digress.  I tried to read the paper online last night while watching "24." Not an easy task I might add.  There I was, sitting with my lap top, in my lap of course, and trying to scroll click, zoom,  and go back.  It required so much concentration, I almost missed the part where Kiefer Sutherland's character had to strip down to nothing to get biochemicals washed off his body.  Yum.  He makes getting exposed to chemicals look fun.  Oops, I'm digressing again.

After awhile, I decided that trying to read the paper online in my lap just wasn't going to work.  It would require additional furniture, like a coffee table. Hunched over, squinting at the print (even with my reading glasses on) I found myself quickly skipping over articles.  I'd glance at the headline and think, "nah...not worth zoomin' in for."  Sad and lazy, I know.  The comics, however, were more than worth the extra effort.

I miss my old friend.  I can't even imagine how people who have been reading the paper in their homes longer than me and who are not web savvy feel.  There is a certain emptiness.  

Lack of a daily newspaper to the home makes me wonder what will all those paper-training puppy owners do on a regular basis?  What about rabbit, hamster and bird cages?  The pet world may never recover from this.  What about when you have a ton of glasses and dishware to wrap when moving? What about when you want to just check on the time of a sporting event or local movie theater showings?  You have to boot up, log on, and zoom in.  All spontaneity has left the building.  

I realize that you can still pick up hard copy editions at new stands on the days there is no home delivery but that's just a pain in the butt.  That would require getting dressed, fixing face and hair, warming up the car (if it's in the winter), and trudging out to the nearest store or paper box--all before having a cup of coffee.  Yes, I could risk it by going in my pajamas or wearing my glasses, but sure enough, that would be the one day I'd have a car accident, be forced to get out of the car while everyone drove by and looked at me all the while wondering if I escaped from a mental institution because I was out and about in my robe. Let's face it, getting dressed before I read the paper does not compute.  And neither does reading it online.   Is it Thursday yet?

Ameri-can

This week I saw a touching story on the news.  It involved a group of high school students in Pomona, California.  Despite depressing times, they still have high aspirations of graduating, going on to college, and becoming professionals.  The teacher asked them how many of the students were affected, personally, by the country's current economic situation, and many raised their hands.  

It was sort of a shock to his system when he learned how many students knew when the mortgage payment was due,  how far their parents were falling behind financially, and yet felt so helpless in offering support.  The teacher decided to videotape the students in a one-on-one interview format and post it on You Tube.  His whole reason for doing so was not to embarrass the students, but rather to share their story with the world and see if anyone was listening.

As I watched some of the interviews, it broke my heart to see students that were featured feeling the weight of such grown up issues on their shoulders.  They expressed concerns over their parents who had lost jobs, younger siblings, and financial troubles facing the families. One boy had very little, if any, food in his refrigerator.  Parents and teachers alike hadn't realized how much this was weighing on the teenagers.  I didn't get the sense that they were being lectured by their parents and guilted into realizing how tough times were, but rather they were just aware of their surroundings.  With constant doom and gloom on the news, in the papers, and in your hometown, it would be hard not to take note--teenager or not.  I firmly believe that this generation of teenagers is leap years ahead of my generation, in terms of being aware of national and global affairs.  I'm sure this due in large fact to the internet and the rapid rate of communication.

President Obama got wind of the You Tube posting and mentioned the students in a speech last week while in California to let them know "he was listening."  He specifically addressed them and later paid a visit to their school.  This morning there was a follow-up story which told how many Americans heard about the students' plight and took action to help.  Cash donations, emails, letters of support, job offers for their parents, and food from a local farmer came pouring into the school to help ease the students' burdens.  

Over the last few weeks, I've noticed a movement taking shape.  Maybe because it's in tune with my own philosophy that I adopted in December.  During these days of constant bad news it's important to start trying to promote a little humor and positivity.  For instance, I think it was in the the Free Press  I read where they looking for readers to share stories of hope and positive news.  Jay Leno, as we Detroiters are all well aware, is coming to Michigan in April to put on a couple of free shows just to give those, who are in need, a cheap night out and a chance to laugh--if only for a moment. In May, actor Michael J. Fox will host a show which explores the power of hope.  Can the strength and endurance of something you can't physically see really sustain you as a person and your country as a whole?  I think you all know how I feel about that.  Most definitely it can.  Also, Good Morning America has a little thing they call Ameri-can.  It includes some small news item that features how people in America are making a difference through one act of kindness, generosity, or positive thinking.

Last week I felt disgusted when I read an article about a Michigan teen who set up her own website looking for donations to send her to her dream college--Notre Dame. Tuition, room and board along with other costs will add up to about $51,300.  As I was reading, I kept thinking I was going to come to the part where it talked about her hardships in life and why she was worthy of such public assistance.  Then, I got to end of the article and realized that she wasn't.  There wasn't anything about her having some debilitating illness with mounds of medical bills to be paid, parents being unemployed, being homeless, no hard luck story, just greed, in my opinion. This was a healthy, happy girl with a good home, two living and, I assume working, parents and a good student.  She had already been accepted to the University of Michigan, but apparently she'd rather go to Notre Dame, however she can't afford it.  So, she's asking the public to pay for it, even though she has yet to be accepted.  What I also found to be a sad commentary on the situation was that fact that her principal wasn't surprised at her "entrepreneurship." I thought, that's not entrepreneurship dude, that's greed.  That's not Ameri-can, that's Ameri-want.    

That same day I read about this girl's quest for public support, I heard another story about octo-mom Nadya Suleman and HER website.  Apparently, she's looking for donations to help pay for those 14 children she wanted.  As I often say when I'm confused "me no get."  What's even more disturbing is that both of these women will probably "get."  That's the beauty of America.  Some corporation or glory seeking person will come to their rescue.  Ask and you will receive.  In my opinion, there is a huge difference between supporting those who need and those who want.  The difference between these two women and the high schoolers in California is that the students didn't ask, and yet they received.  That is the TRUE beauty of America.  We are a generous nation that has the ability to help others in need, even when we are in need ourselves.  

In an earlier posting I talked about the "Power of One."  I've talked about my personal quest to get involved and find something that moves me enough to do something about it.  I constantly think "what can I do that will make a difference?"  I've decided that I will be getting involved with the Jeffrey Stemberger Esophageal Cancer foundation.  Jeff was a friend of ours who passed away from this cancer in 2006. Another story on Good Morning America this week featured this fast growing cancer--over 400% increase this year.  Sixteen thousand people will be diagnosed yearly and 14,000 will die from this cancer.  More awareness in recognizing the symptoms, early detection, and simple testing procedures that are available needs to be shared, and that's something I Ameri-can do.  

Aaaaaarrrrrrrgggggghhhhhhhh!

Oh boy, what was I thinking? This past weekend I made the switch from being a PC to a Mac. For awhile I had heard how the Apple line of computers were so much more user friendly and fun when it came to working with photos, websites, and other types of creative programs. A few years ago I received an Ipod from Ed and the boys for my birthday. I instantly fell in love with it. I use it daily--on the treadmill, on long car rides, working outside in my garden, and just in general. Then, in December, Ed switched from a Blackberry to an Iphone and he loves it. Well, with my passion for photos, that I hope to expand into a side business for myself, I was intrigued and decided to make the switch.

Of course, all the snazzy demos and computers set up in the Apple Store didn't hurt. I felt like a kid walking into a candy store. It was cool! I began to envision myself being more productive and creative on my computer. However, it was not an easy decision to switch. In fact, it was very scary. I've spent almost the last 20 years being a PC. When we the left the store with equipment in hand, I said to the salesperson that I think it was less scary leaving the hospital with my first born child. I'm not kidding.

So, yesterday, Ed did some initial set up stuff for me and then let me at it. Wow. I feel instantly stupid. It's like being in a foreign country. New "buzz words", different applications, layouts, and train of thought in general. I'm not saying it's bad, by any stretch of the imagination, just different. Today I'm going for a one-on-on session where I will get some tutoring on any subject I'd like--organizing photos, creating documents, making movies, music, navigating the web, whatever. I'm excited, but annoyed that I feel clueless. I plan on attending the sessions on a regular basis so I can quickly become proficient with my new computer.

Soon I'll be sharing with you the "fruits" of my Apple. Ha, ha, get it? One good thing is that I still have my sense of humor today, as lame as it is. Yesterday by the end of the night, I was crabby and frustrated. Thank you Aunt Mary for sitting around with me for five hours yesterday watching me create nothing!

No Regrets

On the occasion that one of my family members has left to go run an errand or someone I know has left a gathering without my knowledge, I always think "they didn't even say goodbye." For me personally, that's such an important piece of closure to a visit. Whether it's only until the next time you see them, which might only be in a few hours, or for the rest of your life.

This week, two tragedies really reinforced this feeling for me. First, was the horrific accident in Michigan where four teens were killed by a drunk driver. They were sitting at a stop light, on their way to pick up a pizza. Doing everything right, while doing nothing at all. And then they were gone. No chance to say good bye to their families or to each other, "thank you" for being in my life, or "I love you."

The second incident involves actress Natasha Richardson and her untimely death due to what seemed, at the time, a simple tumble on a beginner ski slope. She got up, laughed it off, and dismissed the need for medical care. She felt fine. Then, just a few hours later, she was in critical condition and last night she passed away. Gone. Poof. Over.

I remember watching the horrific events unfold on September 11, 2001 and thinking about the people who were gone forever all while doing some of their every day, mundane tasks. Going to work, traveling on business, living their routine. I remember thinking that even during their frightening and uncertain moments, some had the presence of mind to call their loved ones to say "goodbye" and "I love you", to give them some closure. Even though the victims already knew their families knew they loved them, it was still important to say it and have them hear it.

We become so complacent with the people in our lives that it's easy to take them for granted. This week serves as a reminder to me that I can not be complacent. I need to make sure I have closure each time I see a friend or family member and say "good bye." Because you never know, it could be my last one and I don't want to have any regrets.

Last year, when Alex was involved in a serious car accident, is when I personally started seeing things from a different perspective. He was only coming home from the library. So innocuous, so boring, and yet so life changing. What's so funny is that I knew that life could be fleeting. Having survived cancer made me live life with more urgency years ago. But I became too comfortable and complacent.

Ed's dad passed away from cancer in the fall of 2006. While we were so sad to have lost him, we did feel blessed that we had the opportunity to spend time with him, tell him how much we loved him, and say our goodbyes before he left. For that we are grateful. So many people are not afforded this opportunity in life or in death.

Life is fragile, even if you are just going to pick up a pizza or to the library to study. Be sure to tell your loved ones just that...that they are loved. Don't assume that you will have plenty of time later. No regrets.

Put Me In Coach....

It won't be long now until baseball season is underway. As a follow up to a posting from last week, I just wanted to let you know that Cameron did earn a spot on the freshman team and he too is coveting his jacket, just like Alex did three years ago. Congrats, Cam!

Warmer temps and lots of sunshine today must be a gift from the Irish gods. Thank you so much, we'll take it. I hope it's a sign of things to come with baseball games starting in just a couple of weeks.

I have fond memories of playing baseball with the neighborhood kids in the middle of the street or around the corner and down the block, in an empty lot, growing up in Garden City. I remember we'd use some piece of trash or tar spot in the street for each base. Of course the base paths weren't very long, considering how narrow the street was, but it was fun. I also remember listening to Ernie Harwell's voice on the radio at night with my little red radio placed right next to my pillow.

In light of all the steroid scandals, we still view baseball as a game with many traditions and simple American values. A few nights ago, I was watching a professional basketball game while they were making the player introductions. If you ever watched a pro basketball game, you know that the player introductions have turned into quite a production. Arena lights are turned off, spot lights are gyrating all over the building, music is blaring and revving up the crowd, and each arena announcer has his own way of introducing the home team. It's really quite over the top.

I started wondering how this tradition got started and why they don't do that for other sports when the athletes are introduced, like baseball. I suppose, for one thing, you can't dim the lights for dramatic flare, at least not during the day games. Also, I don't think the sound system in an outdoor baseball stadium would have quite the same effect in an arena. You could still rumble the words "Ma-ma-ma-ma-magglio Ordooooooooooonnnnnnez" but it just doesn't fly.

How about the announcer at a golf tournament spewing out the introduction "Tigggerrrrrrrr Woo-Woo-Woo-Woooooooooods!" Tiger would come out onto the green and start whooping it up with his caddy with their arms around each other's shoulders swaying back and forth to the music. Hmm...maybe not.

What is it about baseball that we love so much? Perhaps it's the subliminal message in our minds that the long, cold winter is about to come to an end and that hope is springing eternal. The smell of the grass, warm breezes, your face up to the sun, and the crack of the bat all make for a wonderful "remember this moment" moment. For awhile, everything feels possible again. Perhaps it's the fact that no matter how technically advanced sports have become, it's still a matter of throw the ball, hit the ball, catch the ball. End of story. No "whooping it up" necessary.

What's Bugging You?

Remember that line in Jerry Maguire where Tom Cruise says "you complete me" to Renee Zellweger? That's how I feel about lip gloss. It completes me. My husband says I have an addiction and for years I have tried to deny it. But, when I look around my house, I realize that I do seem to have become dependent on having moist lips. I have multiple tubes of lip gloss and Vaseline Lip Therapy in practically every room in the house. In my night stand, on the treadmill, in the powder room, upstairs in the office, in the living room, the basement, the kitchen, and the master bathroom. I always have one or two in my purse and keep an extra in the car. What can I say? I don't like dry lips.

Some believe that there is a true conspiracy among chapstick and lip balm makers who use special ingredients to get you hooked on the stuff. Check it out on the web. All you have to do is type in "chapstick addiction." Seriously though, you could say that about anything. Lately, in my household, we've all been addicted to SweeTarts jelly beans which only seem to be available during Easter season, unlike Starburst which are available all year round. If you haven't tried the SweeTarts yet then you need to get yourself to the nearest retailer and get some! If there are any left. I've been buying them by the case. I'm pretty sure the secret ingredient being used in these jelly beans is lots of tarty flavor and sugar.

Getting back to my addiction, I'm not the only one I know that's constantly craving moist lips. I've seen some men pull a tube of lip balm out of their pockets on occasion and I believe Alex and Cameron were in the early stages of dependency this winter. It started with one of them asking me to pick up a tube of Chapstick the next time I was out. Cameron did quite a bit of snowboarding this year, so it was probably him. While I was at it, I bought an extra one which Alex took for himself. I started noticing him using it at regular pace. There were even a couple of times he had to conduct a search in the house and go through his pockets in the name of Chapstick. I warned him to be careful (in that sing-songy voice we sometimes use when we're warning someone of impending doom). "You don't want to get addicted like me." Then, yesterday, Cameron was outside hitting baseballs and he specifically came in the house looking for his Chapstick and he hasn't been snowboarding in weeks!

At what point does an addiction become a compulsion or are they the same? I guess the difference between the two is that when you stop an addiction, you have actual withdrawal symptoms. Whereas, with a compulsion, you just "can't" not do it. It's not normal for you and it will continue to gnaw at your brain if you don't fix whatever is bothering you, even though nobody else notices anything is "wrong."

For instance, if I'm only partially opening the horizontal blinds on the windows, they need to be in line with the muntins inside the windows. If they are not, then there are too many horizontal lines for me to deal with. Also, my knick knacks need to be aligned or angled in a certain fashion. Both of these concepts are lost on Ed. He can open the blinds to any degree or replace stuff after dusting in any random fashion. I can walk into a room and instantly be freaked out if there are too many horizontal lines staring at me in the face. Also, I love that he dusts (since my last posting you know I have dusting issues) but I have to go around behind him and rearrange everything back to the way it was. My clothes in my closet are color coded too.

What's funny is that we can be so fanatical about doing something one way and yet not care about other stuff at all. Why is that? How come it's crucial that a picture frame face me at a certain angle, but I don't care that there's two inches of dust on it? I know, it must be because dusting is Ed's compulsion and I don't want to take that away from him. Yea....that's it.

The Baby of the Family

Growing up the youngest of three children has certainly had its advantages and disadvantages over the years. Even though I'm 47, I'll forever be referred to as the "baby of the family." I have an older brother, named Ray and a much, much, much older sister, named Maria. My parents married in 1955, had my brother in 1956, and then my sister in 1957. They sure didn't waste anytime in those days, did they? I didn't come along until 1961. Prior to my arrival, my mom had been pregnant but lost the baby. I can't tell you how many times I've thought about all the "what ifs."

Being the youngest, means you have to work your way up the food chain. I always got stuck with the least-favorite chores. Ray got to take out the garbage (big whooop), Maria got to vacuum (like that was real hard) and I had to dust with Pledge and one of my dad's old t-shirts. This required removing every knick-knack and dusting underneath it (where there is no dust, I might add) and replacing it. Also, growing up in a home that is littered with early American furniture meant there were lots of nooks and crannies on the railed backs of the dining room chairs, wooden mirrors with eagles, louver doors, and shutters on every damn window. It seemed as if every piece of upholstered furniture, like the couch and side chairs, had wood on it too! I longed for a feather duster like the one that Alice on the Brady Bunch used to do her dusting with. She made it look so fun and easy. She was also fortunate in that the Brady's had more modern decor in their home with way more upholstered furniture and less wood. I really could not relate to the episode where Cindy was bitching about being the baby in THAT family. Afterall, she did have a maid.

As the youngest, I also had to go in the scary basement and get stuff out of the freezer chest. It was located in the laundry room under the stairs which had an old green shower curtain for a doorway. I remember dreading that trip. I would run up the stairs so fast after retrieving whatever it was I was sent for that I would trip on the stairs, making a huge ruckus. My mother was not pleased and thought I was being ridiculous.

Whenever we rode in the car, being the youngest meant having to sit in the middle with my feet on the hump because I was the shortest and had the least amount of rights. You try sitting in the middle seat on a car ride from Detroit to Yellowstone National Park. It aint no picnic. Especially when you have to sit with your arms squished together on your lap for fear of touching an older sibling who warned you to "stop touching me."

Being the youngest meant that I had to go to bed the earliest. It seemed unfair at the time, but once I had children of my own, it worked for me! Oh my gosh, look at the time, 7:30 p.m. already! Goodnight Cameron! Alex get ready, cuz you're going next!

Being the youngest in the family also means, not seeing very many baby photos of you in your parents' photo albums. Oh look, here's a picture of Ray, Ray, and Ray! And because Maria came along only one year later, there were also plenty of pictures of them looking cute together. Cute in the crib, cute on the rocking horse, cute in front of the Christmas tree, cute talking on the play telephone. I do recall one picture of me laying in a lounge chair in my parent's bedroom. You know the kind with the plastic straps and aluminum metal frame that tri-folded? When I was two, I broke my leg in the backyard (probably my evil sister pushed me off the swing set or something of that nature). Anyway, I was in traction for six weeks at Wayne County Hospital. Why my parents had to bring in a lawn chair for me to sit on when I came home, I don't know. Perhaps we did not get real furniture until the year I took over dusting duties. I'll have to inquire about that.

As we grew older, I began to see some advantages to being the baby of the family. I recognized that my sibling were the "pioneers" of the family and unbeknownst to them, were blazing new trails for me. Things that initially seemed new and scary for my parents became old hat by the time I got around to doing them. I seem to recall my brother questioning my bed time when I was a young teen, claiming that he had to go to bed much earlier when he was my age. Boo hoo! As my boys would say today "Want me to call a whaaaambulance?"

Of course, I was probably a dream child compared to my rebellious brother. He didn't even want to go on vacation to Hawaii with our family when he was 16 because frankly, when you're a teenager, hanging out with your family just isn't fun or cool. I was like "Dude, we're going to Hawaii, are you kidding me? The Brady kids LOVED Hawaii when they went with their parents."

When my sister was going to tell my fanatically catholic parents that she was going to be living in sin with her boyfriend (who later became her husband) I asked her "oooooh....can I be there when you tell them?" However, I don't recall it being a major event for them. It's not like they shunned my sister or brother in-law or constantly preached to them the error of their ways. As parents, they really did a good job of adhering to the philosophy of "We raised you to the best of our ability and how you choose to live your life is up to you. Whatever you choose, we will be there to support you." I've really got to give my parents credit for that. By the time I told them that Ed and I were moving in together, they were practically ecstatic. It was shortly after I was diagnosed with breast cancer that we decided to become roomies. I think my parents were just thrilled that I wouldn't be living all by myself while having to go through chemo treatments. What can I say, timing is everything? After your daughter tells you she has cancer, moving in with her boyfriend probably seems like a fabulous idea!

Now that I'm a mother of two myself, I recognize that Cameron experiences some of his own freedoms, sooner than his older brother, Alex, ever did--especially when it comes to cell phones, texting, music choices, and online networking. But I can tell you this, one thing Cameron has never had to do is sit in the middle seat. He doesn't even have to sit in the middle row in Ed's vehicle if he doesn't want to! However, he does have to go into the finished basement to get stuff out of the freezer for me.

Will You Take a Nickel for This?

At the end of the last summer, I had a garage sale. Prior to that, I probably hadn't had one in about four years. Anyone who knows me, knows I don't hang on to a lot of clutter and extra stuff, except for some of the boys' favorite toys, like Batman, Spiderman, Star Wars and Jurassic Park figures. When they are older, I will give them back to them, much like parents saved my Barbies and my Barbie airplane for me.

When the boys were younger, I'd hold a sale at least every other year. Now that they are older, we have less clothes and toys to recycle. Stuff that I am holding on to is neatly packed into a plastic bin, labeled, and put on a shelf in my storage closets in the basement. My husband is proud of the fact that if we were given a 45-minute notice that we had to move out of the house immediately, we could probably do it. For me less is more, unless it's dessert. Then, by all means, more means more!

It had been three years last summer since we moved to our current house, and with the transition of the boys into high school since the move, it was time for lots of stuff to find a new home. I spent hours going through my closet, drawers, linen closets, and coat closets. The boys rummaged through their rooms in hopes of earning some cash and Ed went through the workshop and garage. Knick-knacks, sporting goods, snowboards, boots, tools, books, and furniture was gathered. I pulled out original manuals and directions for many appliances, electronics, and toys. Cameron was my go-to guy for scads of toys that required some assembly and battery testing.

Tables, plywood, and saw horses were dragged outside to set up. Everything had been cleaned up, checked over, priced, and displayed. If you've ever had a garage sale, you know that opening day can be madness, and you absolutely must have someone on hand to help you start the day. I knew this, so I asked Ed to take a couple of days off to be my lovely assistant. His first assignment was to put up my garage sale signs which, when you stop and think about it, basically says to the public "Hey, wanna buy my crap? Here's where you can find it!" This was Ed's firsthand experience with a garage sale, and I must say being an account manager in the professional world sure made him a natural in the garage sale world. Whenever a man walked up the driveway, I sent Ed out to close the deal.

The art of garage sale shopping is not for the fainthearted. Everyone loves a bargain, and even though you might only be asking for pennies for something, it's just not good enough for the buyer. So, when someone asks you if you'll take a nickel instead of a dime, you just want to look at them and say "Are you kidding me?" You really don't have an extra nickel? Of course, the warm humid temperatures and the on and off rain sprinkles throughout the day may have something to do with your crabby attitude that is starting to set in. Thus, you simply smile and say "a NICKEL would be great!"

Isn't it funny how we get so offended that some people can't see the value in our junk and all the work we put into getting it organized for a sale? I suppose it has something to do with the sentimental value that is attached to the item. Sometimes you'd just as soon throw the item away rather than reduce your selling price by a nickel. On the first day of the sale it's all a matter of principle. By the time the second day rolls around, you're slashing prices left and right and marking "everything must go!" At the end of the day, it's sitting at the end of the driveway with a big "Free" sign on top it. By the end of our first day, we hauled in $500. There really wasn't much left for the second day, and after making $35 for half a day's work, we boxed the rest of it up and took it immediately to a local church for distribution to some charities.

If you are going to be doing some spring cleaning and rummaging through your closets, now is an excellent time. Parisian department stores are running their Goodwill Sale which only takes place twice a year. For each item of clothing you bring in to donate, you receive a 20% off coupon you can use on virtually anything in the store, including brands which never go on sale, like Coach, Dooney and Bourke, cosmetics, jewelry, etc. The coupons are good for regular and sale priced merchandise. You can check out www.millionactsofgoodwill.com for more information. The drive is going on from now through March 24. Just a tip--whatever treasure you may find, don't ask them if they'll take a nickel for it. Chances are they'll say "no."

My Bluebird of Happiness

He's a beauty, isn't he? This photo is from last year, but I want you to know that spring is definitely on it's way. This past weekend, I spotted my bluebirds checking out one of the nesting boxes for their upcoming brood. They are fun to watch.

Life in the Minch household continues to move along, uneventfully, thank goodness. We have been blessed with several weeks of normalcy! My mom's health issues have stabilized for now. I must admit, it has been a nice respite from the constant doctor appointments and medical procedures that we experienced on almost a daily basis last spring and summer. I know that this year may bring new challenges, but one thing I learned from last year is to take it one appointment at a time.

Ed is busy working on a contract basis and anticipates being offered two full-time job opportunities in the coming weeks. He is also contemplating on incorporating himself due to new opportunities that have arisen in working for himself. Since he was let go in January, his former company has let go of several more employees. I've seen Ed become the "counselor" to his former co-workers who have looked to him for advice on what to do next, who to contact about benefits, and where to go from here.

Alex has narrowed his college choices down to Kalamazoo College, where he has been recruited to play football (and maybe baseball) and the University of Michigan, where he has been deferred. Final decision from U of M may not even arrive until April, and so a final choice can't be made until all information is in. Other colleges he was accepted to include Central, Aquinas, and the University of Dayton. I feel certain that he now realizes that all the hard work and high standards his parents required of him are starting to pay off. As a parent, your payoff comes when your child finally realizes that you're not just a nag and you really do have their best interest at heart (and know what you're talking about!).

Cameron is preparing to tryout for freshman baseball and I know he feels the same way about the making the team as Alex did his freshman year. Growing up playing on rec teams, there was never any doubt you'd be on a team. Making a high school sports team via tryouts and surviving cuts, brings a whole new meaning to it. I remember Alex walking in the door with his baseball jacket that was distributed as part of his uniform, and not taking it off all weekend. The feeling that he had "earned" a place on the team was something he felt very proud of and I know Cameron is hoping for that same opportunity. Good luck, Cam.

I am still checking into various job opportunities, working on producing something with my photography (note cards, notepads and prints), looking for volunteer opportunities, and thinking about going back to school. Decisions, decision. The fact that I have choices is a blessing in itself.

Late March will mark the 10-year anniversary of the passing of Ed's mom. I miss her dearly. She was such a calming influence in our lives, and I still remember the day he brought me home to meet her almost 23 years ago. We walked in the house and she was watching the North and South mini-series. She had such a great sense of humor. Before she passed away, she and Ed had a conversation about coming back in another life form and how to communicate with him, if that was possible. She asked him "what do you want me to do, come back as a dog and pee my name in your lawn?"

In early April, we will mark the one-year anniversary of the passing of Chad, a very dear friend of our family. Chad was only 17, but he had the most amazing gift as a letter writer. I remember a letter he wrote to Alex and Cameron (years ago) in planning for their annual vacation to Evergreen. Chad loved ice hockey and knew the boys played roller hockey. So, he proceeded to make a list of stuff they should pack for their trip--pads, gloves, sticks, helmets, roller blades, etc. When I saw the list, I said to my boys, "papa barely has room for your suitcases to take up north (thanks to all the unnecessary stuff my mom packs!), how are you going to bring all this stuff?" Shortly thereafter, Chad must of have been reminded the same thing by his parents, because he soon wrote back and simply said "never mind on the hockey stuff." I think about you everyday, Chad, when I look at your picture on my bulletin board. I hope you are busy catching lots of fish up in heaven and watching out for Alex and Cameron.

The birds that have been busy scurrying around my yard the last couple of weeks have reminded me that fresh starts are upon us--rebuilding and rebirth. When I started my blog in December, I decided that I couldn't worry about the past or control the future, but just live in the present. And, so I continue to work hard at doing just that. Appreciating each day for what it is and what it was.

What Are You Doing Right Now? Besides Nothing!

Recently, I succumbed to the pressure from some of my friends and joined Facebook to see what all the fuss was about. I thought it might be a good way to do some networking, keep up to date with friends who live out of state, and promote my photography. I'm a little leery and proceeding with caution.

For those of you unfamiliar with Facebook, here's how it works. You create a profile and have the ability to upload as much or as little information as you want--pictures, personal info, interests, etc. You can search for former classmates, co-workers, relatives, acquaintances and "invite" them to be "your friend" to which they either confirm or ignore your request. On the one hand, it makes me feel like I'm in high school all over again--"Will you be my friend? Please, please, please confirm so I can check out your page!" On the other hand, when I get a request to be some one's friend, it gives me a feeling of empowerment--"Dude, I wasn't your friend 30 years ago in high school why would I want to be your "friend" now? I barely have time for my real friends." Ignore.

When you log onto your homepage, you can see all kinds of updates, comments, and status changes as to what your friends are doing. Every time you log on, you can answer the question "What are you doing right now?" at which point some people type in "Susie Q is drinking coffee and feeling tired" or "Joe Blow is waiting to put gas in his car." Yes, thanks to cellular technology, you can Facebook while you're mobile. One of my friends told be about one of her friends who posted breaking news that she was "standing in line waiting to return something at Best Buy." Whoooo....stop the presses.

It's a good thing Facebook didn't exist when the boys were younger, not that I'd have time to get on it, but I imagine some of my updates might have been something along the lines of:

Rebecca Minch is....thinking that Cameron found her lipstick in her purse while she was out of the room, even though he told her "no."

Rebecca Minch is....wondering what a slice of baloney is doing mixed up with her CDs.

Rebecca Minch is....worried because Cameron licked a chlorine tablet and then Ed had to lick a chlorine tablet to see what the side effects were and is wondering if she should call Poison Control.

Rebecca Minch is....singing the entire soundtrack to "Beauty and the Beast" after watching it for the 98th time with Alex.

Rebecca Minch is....wishing that purple dinosaur, Barney, would shut the hell up.

This got me to thinking about celebrities and people in the news as to what some of their status updates might say on their Facebook pages.

Nadya Suleman is....breast feeding.

Michael Phelps is....having a serious case of the munchies.

Sarah Palin is....waving to people in Russia from her backyard.

Nadya Suleman is....changing a diaper.

Joaquin Phoenix is....looking for his gum which got lost in his matted beard.

Osama Bin Laden is.... getting bat dung off of his turban and is sick of living in caves.

Nadya Suleman is....calling 911 because she's forgotten the name of one of her kids.

Chris Brown is....watching his career go down the drain.

Rhianna is....listening to her song "Take a Bow" and thinking about what a hypocrite she is.

Nadya Suleman is....still breast feeding and will be doing so until the year 2014.

Miley Cyrus is....getting sued for acting like a teenager.

Kwame Kilpatrick is....shutting down his Facebook page and vows to never post or text anything again!

Nadya Suleman is....still breastfeeding and changing a diaper while calling 911.

Mr. Peanut is....sick with salmonella and will be spending the entire weekend in the bathroom.

Detroit City Council is....still busy embarrassing the city of Detroit by acting like they're on student council for the third grade.

Nadya Suleman is....having a nervous breakdown.

Now, the latest and greatest thing to come along is Twitter. According to some, it's better than Facebook. How and why that is, I don't know. I must admit, however, it has been kind of fun and surreal connecting with people I haven't seen since I graduated from high school. In my mind, they are still 18 years old. Flash forward almost 30 years, and I'm seeing them in a whole new light. So weird to see that we've grown up to be responsible parents, soldiers, and professionals. Whether I can continue to maintain my page, remains to be seen because quite frankly, "Rebecca Minch is....wondering who could possibly give a rat's ass?"

It's All Relative

Last week I received a funny e-mail forwarded from Ed and I found it to be very relevant. What's even funnier is that I was sitting at my computer and he was sitting inches away from me on his computer when I received and opened it (see #4). I have also done #6 NUMEROUS times. Here's the e-mail of "how you know you're living in 2009."

1. You accidentally enter your password on the microwave.

2. You haven't played solitaire with real cards in years.

3. You have a list of 15 phone numbers to reach your family of 3.

4. You e-mail the person who works at the desk next to you.

5. Your reason for not staying in touch with friends and family is that they don't have e-mail addresses.

6. You pull up in your own driveway and use your cell phone to see if anyone is home to help you carry in the groceries.

7. Every commercial on television has a web site at the bottom of the screen.

8. Leaving the house without your cell phone, which you didn't have the first 20 or 30 (or 60) years of your life, is now a cause for panic and you turn around to go get it.

10. You get up in the morning and go on line before getting your coffee.

11. You start tilting your head sideways to smile. : )

12. You're reading this and nodding and laughing.

13. Even worse, you know exactly to whom you are going to forward this message.

14. You are too busy to notice there was no #9 on this list.

15. You actually scrolled back up to check that there wasn't a #9 on this list.

Maybe it's because my kids are teenagers and I am becoming more aware of newer technologies, but I find the world is changing (not necessarily evolving) at a very rapid pace. Things that were widely used just a few years ago are now considered obsolete by many, like VCRs, e-mail, and local radio. Nowadays more and more peope use DVRs to record their favorite shows, communicate via texting, Facebook and blogs, and listen to satellite radio or plug into their Ipods. We like instant gratification and have low attention spans. This insight has prompted me to come up with my own list of how you know you are living in 2009.

1. You hardly ever use stamps anymore thanks to e-mail, e-cards, e-vites, and online bill paying.

2. You use the house phone to call someone on their cell phone in another part of the house so you don't have to get up and go look for them.

3. You haven't stepped foot inside your bank in months thanks to direct deposit and online banking.

4. Your kids, you, and your parents are all members of Facebook.

5. You keep clicking the mouse when a page is taking too long to download, because frankly, eight seconds is just too darn long!

6. Your toddlers need you to pop in a video to keep them entertained for a short car ride to the grocery store (whatever happened to looking out the window?).

7. You have no idea how much film costs these days or if they even still sell film!

8. You have hundreds (if not thousands) of digital photos on your computer, but have yet to print them out and put them into albums.

9. You now refer to your 401(k) as your 1(k).

10. You have little need to go to the video rental store, thanks to video rental via your cable provider.

11. You have no patience for a cell phone call to connect, even though the signal has to go all the way into outer space, find a satellite and get bounced back to earth in some cases.

12. The term "bailout" is now a regular part of your vocabulary.

13. You've already forgotten about George Bush.

14. Thanks to caller ID and call waiting ID, you can now avoid conversations on a regular basis.

15. You find shows like "Ghost Whisperer" and "Medium", where they talk to dead people, to be more realistic than "reality" shows.

It's not just technology that's changing quickly either, it's our perception of daily life. For instance, remember when a million dollars used to be a lot of money to the average person? Not anymore. With terms like "billions" being thrown around to bailout the banks, auto companies, and multi-million dollar contracts being offered to professional athletes and entertainers, a million dollars, frankly, is considered chump change!

How many times have you heard someone say they're not buying a lotto ticket because the jackpot is only a million dollars? Why, I don't know, because the odds are even smaller of winning, but it's the perception. I guess they feel as if a million dollars isn't worth a dollar and the effort of coloring in those little circles to pick their lucky numbers. Personally, I don't believe in buying lotto tickets. I prefer to throw my money away at the casino. It's much more interactive.

I'm continued to be amazed at the amount of money professional athletes and entertainers are making. I recently read that Russell Simmons, hip hop mogul, has been ordered to pay his ex-wife, Kimora Lee Simmons (no financial slouch herself) $40,000 a month for child support for his two daughters, ages 6 and 9. Holy crap! How do you spend $20,000 a month on each kid? She must be charging them rent.

Of course, I realize it's all relative. I just wish Russell Simmons (instead of Russell Tell) was my relative. Just kidding, dad!

I Could Use a "Spring" in My Step!

"By the time I get to Phoenix, you'll still be freezing...." Ed left for Arizona yesterday on a business trip and I bet he was singing this song to himself. He knows better than to sing it to me. High temperatures there today will be 84 degrees.

I feel certain that my blood must be thinning or my tolerance for cold weather is diminishing at the rate the polar caps are melting. But what I don't understand is how can they be melting in the north pole when it's so flippin' cold in Michigan every day! I used to enjoy going outdoors in the winter--shoveling snow for the exercise, downhill skiing for the thrill of being able to participate in something with my kids, or even making the occasional visit to downtown Plymouth to see the ice sculptures and shop. Lately, however, I find that I can't even make it to the car without uttering an endless stream of expletives about how cold it is. I'm sick of wearing fleece, flannel, and sweaters nonstop around the house. Pretty soon I'm going to be reduced to ordering one of those as-seen-on-TV Snuggie blankets with the sleeves that make you look like a monk.

When is global warming going to make it to the states? Shouldn't it be here by now? I think I made it abundantly in clear in one of last week's postings that I was extremely jealous of everyone who went away over mid-winter break on cruises, or to the Keys, or Miami. I hate you all.

On the flip side of it, I know come the end of August when the humidity has exceeded 97.3% for 32 days in a row and I've turned into a human sweat rag, I'll be just as unhappy. I don't mind heat, it's just the humidity. When walking to the mailbox or rolling up the hose causes heat exhaustion, it's too humid for me. If we could just have that "dry" heat that Arizona claims to have so much of, I'd be happy. But, I guess you can't be surrounded by the Great Lakes and have dry anything.

That's why I love spring and fall. In the spring and early summer days, you have beautiful, low humidity, above zero temperatures. There's a certain smell in the air and it feels so freeing when you can open up the windows to air out the house. People start cutting the grass and if you close your eyes, it might remind you of when you were a kid. Isn't it a great feeling when you can just walk out the door and hop in the car without having to use all your gas on warming it up ? In the fall, after a long, hot and dry summer, it's refreshing to turn off the air conditioner and open up those windows again. It's that honeymoon period I love--no heat and no air conditioner which equals low utility bills!!!! Sorry people, the weather romanticist stills sees the world from a practical standpoint.

Speaking of being pracitcal that reminds me of a TV show I was watching the other night. This family had been at a hospital all day and night waiting for news on a family member. Finally, they returned home, walked in the door, and started preparing a meal. The guy walked right to the fridge, pulled out some vegetables, and started chopping them up. All without even washing his hands!!! That's all I could think about. Having spent many hours in doctors' offices, the emergency room, and the hospital with my mom last year, I would always walk in the door feeling as if I had scads of germs clinging to my clothes. I know, I have issues. But to not even wash your hands--yuk! And when Ed comes home from an airplane trip--him sitting on the furniture in those clothes is not even an option. Especially when you're sitting on a seat that's been all around the world and who knows what was on who knows who's clothes! That's why they say bed bugs are making a comeback--global travelling!

And on that happy note, enjoy your day and think warm thoughts! Don't let the bed bugs bite!