The most important little gadget in the house

Scott and I came home the other day from being out for maybe a couple of hours at most. We know with five animals in the house that we need to survey for damage immediately upon arrival... to check for electrocuted cats, torn up toys, or, worst of all, messes.

Well we had both just about finished our laps around the house and Scott was hanging up his coat and taking off his shoes when I saw a horrible sight.

Our remote lay lifeless on the floor in the living room, feet away -- and below-- its home on the coffee table. Like blood and guts, the back battery cover and the batteries lay strewn across the floor.

I did what any wife would do.
I said a silent prayer and left it for Scott to find.

I also picked up the nearest cat, hoping to save at least one life in the bloodbath that would soon start.

When we settled down on the couch to watch some TV before bed, Scott sat in the silence, pushing buttons that would just not do their job. No power, no channel changing. Just sad silence.

Fear not, readers, for my husband had another remote ordered and on its way within 30 minutes.
It arrived yesterday and we both celebrated its arrival by watching TV and basking in the technology that allows us to sit on our fat lazy butts and go back and forth between the Newlywed Game episodes and a football game.

Crisis averted.

(And no animals were harmed in this process...)

Kacey stole my post title

So all day, I had "Tis the season" in my head. Not very creative, but honest to the day.

Then my own Caboose used that in a post she published on her blog today! Great minds, I guess.

So instead, I'll just say, what an amazing day.

In short:
We decorated for Christmas. (We still have to put the ornaments on the tree, though) We re-arranged the living room and it's just so cozy now, we both absolutely love it. Scott's been wandering around the rooms just saying, "I love our house" over and over today.

My friend Ashley and her boyfriend Tyler came out to our neck of the woods and then the four of us went out for lunch and some exploring of a nearby quaint town. Such good company!

Then, our friends Ryan, Ruby and Ruby's 4-year-old Jayda came out to the house. I had a lot of fun getting eskimo kisses from Jayda and planning New Year's Eve adventures with Ruby.

Scott and I are wrapping up our day with some cuddles on the couch before bed.

Tomorrow, we decorate the tree and have two couples over for dinner. Can't wait!

Tis the season. :-)

Thankful Time

Scott and I have been married for two months today! What a neat Thanksgiving and what an opportunity to be thankful for our love and friendship and everything that comes along with that.

We're hosting his parents and grandparents for the second year in a row for Thanksgiving dinner and that reminds me that I am also thankful for Scott's family (now MY family, too) and their support throughout our relationship. It's comforting to know that while my family is so far away, we still have loved ones who would do anything to help us.

Our dining room table is all set downstairs and the kitchen awaits cramped spaces and delicious smells this afternoon. I'm thankful for our home as well. We work hard to keep it cozy and lovely and I think it shows. We love to entertain in it and both look forward to coming home whenever we leave.

Normally at 10:20 a.m. on a Thursday, I'd be hunched over my computer typing a story or on the phone with an interview. I'm extremely grateful that I have a day off. (You have no idea!) However, I love my job and am grateful for the opportunity to tell people's stories. I've written several "good-news" stories lately, which helps the morale a bit, too.

My inbox features e-mails from friends and loved ones; my recent calls on the caller ID includes several of their names, too. I'm incredibly lucky to have so many people who make every bit -- and sometimes more -- of an effort that I do to maintain our closeness through distance and long weeks and months between our visits.

There are a million more gratitudes I say silently to myself every day, and those I especially remember on Thanksgiving.

It's not just football games (though I will be watching) and turkey (though I will be gorging myself on the bird)... it's gratitude, thanks and love. And I have all of that today.

Happy Thanksgiving!!!

Making up for lost blog time

I've been terrible at posting for the past week or so.

I've been busy with work, busy with trying to finish these *$%^(! thank-you cards from my wedding 7 weeks ago, putting my house back together after a long renovation process is (semi-) completed, continuing training for the domestic abuse/sexual abuse shelter and hotline all the while being a tremendous housewife, friend and overall sane person.

So let's catch up, via our friend the bulleted list.

* My trip back to SU with Kacey was fantastic! A sign across the main street in the quaint little town read, "Welcome Home." I don't know why that is my first image that I think of when I reminisce about that trip. Maybe because it never was home.
Maybe because my "home" is with the people I love the most. Kacey is most definitely one of those people, so having her next to me when I read that sign was pretty significant.


* I have a love-hate relationship with the large maple tree in our backyard.
It is so beautiful three-fourths of the year -- providing shade to our hilly empty lot and part of our tennis court and looking so beautiful with its yellow, and then red leaves in the Autumn. Just before it dumps all of its leaves in one fell swoop.
For us to pick up.
It took us FIVE hours on Saturday to rake, and we aren't even done!!!


* I'm going to see the ROCKETTES (!) at a nearby venue this Saturday with my dear friend Emily and I'm so excited!
I went to see the Rockettes at Radio City Music Hall in NYC when I was younger and I don't think my eyes stopped bugging out for days. It's just one of those special Christmas-season-is-here moments that I treasure.

*Speaking of Christmas, according to the Rockettes' Web site, there are 38 days, 5 hours and 36 minutes as I write this until Christmas Day!
And yes, I'm ready.
In fact, I may have downloaded SEVERAL ALBUMS of holiday music on my iTunes account today. Ella Fitzgerald is currently serenading me with Away in a Manger and I'm loving every second of it.

*Also speaking of Christmas, I may not be able to spend the holidays with my family after all this year because of my work schedule. ::Insert massively disappointed sigh here:: I know Scott and his family will make it a special holiday -- after all, it's our first Christmas as a married couple! -- but, it's still a real disappointment.

I'm looking forward to:
- The Rockettes !
- Holding Thanksgiving dinner here at our house for Scott's parents and grandparents
- Meeting Ashley's sweet boyfriend the weekend after Turkey Day
- Cuddling up by the fireplace with my handsome hubby in our living room as the temperatures drop (ahem, um, if winter weather should decide to come back or anything... it'sbeen in the 50s and 60s!)
- Getting back in touch with family and friends
... and much, much more :-)


Gotta go -- write some more thank-you cards of course! -- have a good week!!!

Whiny Wendy

Let me say this:

I am excited to gain a new, bright, AWESOME office through Scott's ongoing renovation project.
I am, however, sick of paint fumes and my MIA husband.

I love my job, I really do. I feel that I am getting better and better at it, especially recently.
I have, however, sold my soul to the paper. And I'd like it back.

I am thankful for all of the wonderful presents we received for our wedding.
But people should know my gratitude is immense. I shouldn't have to write the same message over and over 120 times. And NO(!) I have NOT finished our thank-you cards, despite losing my husband to drywall. I sold my soul, remember?

I am so grateful for friends. I have reconnected with old (not as in age), special ones (bridesmaids, this is you). I have gained fantastic new ones (Emily, Jess). Gotten closer to semi-old ones (Ashley, you're totally in this category!).
Part of me, suddenly, feels like I have this huge disconnect with them now. I don't know what to talk about now that I can't blab about wedding dresses, stepmother's toasts and slideshow catastrophes. We're a married couple renovating our house. And we have nothing to share right now. We're boring. Dull. Tired. Secretive.

I'm actually focused, for the first time ever perhaps, not on the future and definitely not on the past. I'm all present, man. But I think too much. I'm running around in circles and at the top point of that cycle is always a funk.

And seriously, feeling sick for an entire week with NO relief or change of symptoms?! How can a person have no sniffles and no fever and just be blah, achy, tired, tired and TIRED?! What medicine do you take for tired? I'm getting LOTS of sleep -- and I've even napped a time or two. But I feel like crap. My leg randomly went pins-and-needles last night while walking through Lowes (to get items for the renovation project, of course -- for the third time!)... first my ankle, then my shin. It was up to my knee area in the car and when I sat on the couch, it shot up to my crotch. Awesomeness. It was gone this morning, but now I'm just back to the old symptoms -- times about 12 on the horrible scale.

Sorry for Whiny Wendy.
I'll try to bring someone else to the next post. This chick isn't welcome.


** Special thank-you to Jeannine and Ashley for your e-mails today. They were the glorious sunbeams of my cloudy-brain day. I love you both.

This must be married life.

While Scott was doing this....





























I was making this...

A day off!

I am enjoying a day off -- the first one in a long time that doesn't involve traveling or entertaining (well at least most of the day doesn't include those things).

I took Rocky the cat to the vet today for two shots in his bottom. Aside from his meowing song the entire half hour trip, it went very well.

I came home and chatted with our one neighbor who has been away for a couple of weeks.

I decided to use what little motivation I had in me to trim some bushes, tidy up my pathetic veggie garden, cut and hang some lavender and finish cleaning the house.

Then I went into relax mode, courtesy of America's Next Top Model repeats.

I'm going to make some cookies and then go get my hair trimmed and re-highlighted so it looks lovely in all of Teri's photos next month.

This evening, we will host our pastors at our house for some wedding ceremony plan making and to test our love apparently.

I really needed these couple of hours to just veg out. Work has been a little hectic and some stories really wore me down more than I wanted to admit. I'm glad I hung in there and I'm really proud of the reporter I've become.

With that said, thank the LORD for days off. :-)

A Wimbledon to call our own

When Scott and I bought our home, it was a quick gut-feeling blur of signing papers. We were at the realtor within half an hour of our first --and only-- tour. Said tour only lasted 15 minutes, too.

We spent months trying to remember the different rooms and built-ins and trying to imagine the amount of work that laid ahead of us.

One thing we noticed but didn't quite check out thoroughly was the tennis court -- yes, I'm so serious -- in our backyard. We knew it was there, thought it was cool, and totally disregarded the 80 years of ivy, weeds, dirt, mud and a bunch of what-is-this crap.

We were just thrilled that we had this cool "bonus" on our property. We took up tennis two summers ago on a whim and while we are not quite Venus and Serena, we enjoy it and know enough about the rules to keep score.

We set out in April to clear it out, thinking we would have it done within a week, the summer becoming our personal tennis grand slam.
We just finished this weekend. And it's really only a semi-finish. We still need to paint lines, pull some more weeds and patch up some rough spots.

BUT! It has a net! And there are no major tree limbs or other obstructions to start a catastrophe of emergency room possibilities.

We have to thank our friend Ben, because honestly without hours upon hours of his own sweaty time, it would be a long way from semi-finished.

We played in the dusk the other day; the three of us struggling to even see the yellow ball between the impending darkness and our exhaustion from hours of sweeping and ghetto-rigging the net (hint: empty beer bottles are being used).

So today, once Scott got home and I finished some stories for work, we went frolicking up our back sidewalk, rackets in hand to play our first official game as significant others on our super-awesome-in-our-backyard-cant-believe-its-(semi)done tennis court.

And yes, I actually have serious-looking tennis outfits. I like to pretend my tennis racket-embroidered Nike apparel will distract my opponents from my un-awesome skills.

We had a couple of minor interruptions -- well, namely a fire call I had to listen to for about 20 minutes before returning -- and without a full fence around the entire perimeter we chase quite a few stray balls -- but we got through one match.

And for the record, I won. 6-2.

I'm too busy for a normal blog life right now.

And I don't have kids and am not even married yet. This ought to go downhill quickly.

Anyway, I am alive -- and well, for the most part, despite allowing some half-bitch crazy woman into my soul for a few days. Scott is glad that said bitch is on at least a one-month vacation (more likely three for me.)

I digress.

Wedding plans are going well. We are joyfully collecting our RSVPs and especially enjoying the comments some of our loved ones are putting on them.
Example 1: My friend Drew writes "Mr. Drew Lastname, CPA" in honor of his newly-established title.
Example 2: Scott's friend Ryan draws an arrow to the "Mr.", writing "That stands for Master" on a corner of the card.

The bridesmaid dresses have arrived! I totally confiscated three of them for delivery at Super Secret Wedding Weekend coming up in two weeks. I can't fit into any of the three I have (darn you, you thin gorgeous model-like bridesmaids!) but that doesn't stop me from using every possible opportunity to go into our guest room and just look/drool at/on them.

Flowers, centerpieces and favors are all decided on. Phew. Such little details take SO much brainpower.

In other news, Scott and I have been taking time to enjoy our home and each other by having game nights (It had been so long since we did any activity other than sleep that we forgot how much fun playing a 9 years and older game could be.)

Our tennis court is almost at completion. After months of staring at thick ivy and then piles of ivy, wood, and other debris, I can finally peer out of my office window and see concrete. It's amazing. We just need some lines painted, some dirt pressure-washed the heck out of this yard and our net to arrive before I start beating Scott with my cute little tennis outfits I purchased on a splurge last summer when I wasn't preparing for marriage, family or a FUTURE.

Animals are good. I would say more, but all of their cuteness is totally negated by knocking over and then eating bathroom trash and using our hardwood floors as a bathroom because we are outside dealing with aforementioned three-foot deep ivy.

Work is work.
I have nothing to say there. Nothing I can, at least. :-) I've been really busy and I love my job and am proud of the work I'm doing. I guess that's all I could hope for, really.

We have a fun and busy weekend coming up.
Tonight, Scott has a play-off softball game for the church league here. He loves his baseball/softball and I'm glad he can go and get that manly time. I'll probably sit at home with a glass of wine, reading on the front porch or something else that is equally exciting for a lady such as myself.

Tomorrow, co-worker Kelly is going to take engagement photos of us! She just started a photography career on the side and she's willing to risk that career by snapping photos of two stressed and over-tired individuals who have to remind each other that they love each other and that despite the fact that being engaged can suck, they should probably have photographic proof that they survived through it. I am looking forward to it. She has a great eye and I'm just so excited that she's excited!

Then, on Saturday, Scott and I, as well as a couple of his friends, are heading out to Pittsburgh to enjoy another friend's picnic as well as hotel complete with in-room whirlpool tub. I really am excited for the picnic, but did you see that part where there's a whirlpool in our room??? Relaxation, my friends, is the key to survival in this crazy life.

Well, Scott's on his way to work and I'm on my way to my two-hour morning nap.

Phone call to Scott

9:05 a.m. Friday.

Ring. Ring.
Scott: Hey...
Wendy: Hi. (laughter)
S: What's up?
W: Ummm... (laughter) I just wanted to let you know that I owe you new toenail clippers...
[silence]
W:... and possibly a new toilet.
S: Ummm... OK....
W: I guess you're curious as to what happened. [laughter]
S: Yeah, kind of.
W: Well, I dropped the clippers into the toilet...
S: Well, I figured that.
W: I'm not a morning person.
S: Oh, I know.
W: There was pee in the toilet. I didn't want to reach into the pee.
S: You flushed?
W: Well, I figured they would stay at the bottom there.
S: So you flushed?
W: Yes... BUT THEY DID STAY! Well, for a second at least. And then they went up and away in one really quick, unexpected swoosh!
[silence]
W: And then I laughed so hard I was crying.
S: I'm sure they're still at the bottom there.
W: Noooo, I don't think so.
... So, I probably shouldn't use this toilet today, huh?
S: That's probably a good idea.
W: You're going to tell the guys at work about this, aren't you?
S: Definitely.
W: Crap.
S: NO! Don't do that!
W: Oh, shut up.
S: I've got to go.
W: I'm really sorry about the clippers.
S: No, it's OK. They weren't really that good anyway.
W: Maybe they'll be better after this.
[silence]
W: Errrr, I'll let you go.

That is like soooo whack, yo.

OK, fine, you can call me a city girl. Go ahead and make a joke about me being from Jersey and being pampered like those bad-accent new "Real Housewives..." (Don't even GET ME STARTED about those ladies though and how they do NOT represent the Garden State.)

Anyway.
Here it is.
I've never, EVER used a weed-whacker or a lawn mower. EVER. In my entire life.

Until today.

I am now the (aching) Whackin' Goddess of Chestnut Street. At least that's what the neighbors call me. (When they aren't making fun of my TERRIBLE clothes that: a) are not appealing to all the ladies and gentlemen in their 60s and 70s; b) ill-fitting; c) A combination of shorts from cross country camp in 2000 and a shirt that reads "Brown Chicken Brown Cow" and d) so embarrassing.)

Forget the fact that I still can't turn it on or that I mutilated three separate small trees, giggling and running to a different location maniacally like I was a chainsaw-yielding horror movie actor.

Did I mention how badly my arms hurt? As in cant.type.blog.entry.hurt.

But boy does that yard look danged good.
::does sexy whistle at yard::

Signs of Spring

Images in photos are courtesy of the previous owner's hard work and garden amazingness.







We apparently have bleeding heart bushes scattered along the side of the house -- a pleasant surprise today, considering three days ago they were red stalks in the ground we almost weed-whacked.














I'm not really a tulip person, but these red ones are so eye-catching, I can't help but smile on my way to the back door.

















These golden fields are directly in my peripheral vision from my desk at ye olde home office and I had to break down and just stand by the fencerow taking in our amazing scenery.


























My lettuce is growing!
::Sticks tongue out at elderly neighbors who told her she was planting veggies too early::
Ha!
And the townspeople screamed, "Hoorah! Salads for all!"














Call me a City Girl, but I've never actually seen the Momma Bird manning the nest. This lovely lady has been perched on her babies on a corner of our front porch for at least a week now. Grow little tweeters, grow!







I *love* this time of year...
...If only it weren't 127 degrees with 400 percent humidity.

It's much more fun to watch someone else be on hold for 30 minutes

Working from home has a LOT of advantages. I know I'm lucky -- I come up with the majority of my stories; I can take a time-out and walk the dogs whenever I need a five-minute break; I make my own schedules, with the exception of late-breaking news and the dreaded 5 p.m. Friday house fires.

Working from home can suck, too. Aside from self-motivating and struggling to just.put.it.down. at the end of a day or a week, your office is your shrine and it needs to be in tip-top shape at ALL times.

So, when our wireless internet went down, down DOWN this morning, I think even the birds chirping away outside realized this was just not good.
"Tweet, tweetety tweet. GASP. NO INTERNET??? Ga-bawk!!"

Scott managed to get in touch with his boss and let him know that internet connectivity issues would keep him from starting work at the normal time today. The last time I tried to get in touch with :stupid company name here: I played waiting and then begging games for at least two hours. First of all, they wanted to only speak with Scott, whose last name they had misspelled by one letter. (The first letter, so no big deal, ha!) Then they spoke Mandarin-like technology languages to me. To which I responded by laughing and letting them know that that just wasn't on the side of my brain that I use frequently. And then, after waiting all that time, I was told there was an outtage affecting thousands of customers and it should be figured out in a few hours. Bah.

So Scott joined me for my two-hour nap before normal people begin business hours. Then he got to work, while I attempted to get to work sans www.'s.

First he, being a man who hates making phone calls, tried an online chat. That didn't quite work out.

"Oooooh, a customer service specialist will help me..." I heard.
Then, "OK, Cody A. is just checking account info."
Suddenly, "CRAP! Cody A. just left! Thanks for nothing, dumbass!"

Then, to my surprise, Scott picked up the telephone. Entered in some digits. Recited the Spanish to me. Then he danced.
Danced and danced and danced, in the hallway, in his PJ bottoms, to the "hold" music. FOR 20 MINUTES. I almost peed my pants.

Out of nowhere (and thanks to my lucky stars), the jive movin' and groovin' finally stopped and a quick "OOOOOOOH!" was followed by a manly, "Yes, this is Scott."

And Scott, being Scott, made friends even with the customer service people. (He talked to three of them!) He and one woman with a (this sounds worse than how he meant it) "black lady voice" talked about baseball before she finally changed the first letter of his last name with a laugh.

He also managed to sneak in an HD-upgrade for our flat-screen TV, just sort of dropping in a question on whether or not I'd be home tomorrow for the installation.

Whatever, the $10 a month for "such better kick-ass pictures, Wendy!" is well worth me not dealing with the jive movin' and groovin' that Scott so enjoyed.

So today, he's my hero.
And I'm using my Internet to tell the world.

Heigh-ho, heigh-ho...

We've been house-fixin-uppin' fools these past couple of weeks.

When we impulsively put a bid on what would become our home last year after a 10-minute walk-through late at night, we were so enamored with the retro kitchen, cute little built-ins and other charming characteristics of our 1920s home that somehow, amidst all that excitement and anticipation, we failed to notice that approximately 70 years' worth of dust, dirt, dead and dying trees, moss, never-dying ivy and, oh yeah, CRAP that lined our basement, garage, yard and tennis court.

We've dealt with most of it this month.
Take that, Bird Tree.
Ha-ha, 20-foot section of shrubbery.
Oh my GOD what is THAT crawly thing on the front porch. SMACK!
You're history, collection of dust pans and radiator covers.
Hasta la vista, whatever-you-are that we can't identify in a corner of the basement.

We've been really fortunate that our friend Ben has been slaving away on our behalf, too. We're so lucky to have a friend like that.

We've had some good laughs, too, watching videos our neighbor kids took on the video camera that I used as a distraction when they grew tired of bringing branches and leaves to the burn pile. The videos caused a bit of seasickness at times from odd camera angles, but at least they were well-narrated.

8-year-old-girl: "Scott is pulling a branch... Ben is filling a cart... Wendy is sweeping. :: 10 minutes later:: Wendy is sweeping. Scott is pulling something in the cart. Wendy is still sweeping. I don't know where Ben went."

Tonight might have been the icing on the cake. Moments away from near-completion of Scott's 'Man Room,' AKA the rec/TV room in the basement, the Shop-Vac filter was clogged. Scott went outside to spew its contents and apparently didn't put the filter on correctly. (Hey, we had been working about 10 hours at this point.) He came back downstairs, turned it out and... the machine spit 70 years' worth of dust all over me.

Despite the mess, we all fell over in a fit of uncontrollable laughter.

And a few minutes later, we were able to stand back, admire our hard work coming to fruition, and thank our lucky stars that we're finally running out of major projects.

For now.

Is it bad I didn't realize the closet door wasn't even closing all the way?

Today, Scott and I did a bit of um, winter cleaning. He had a "to-do" list, produced and added to daily by yours truly. I, meanwhile, had about seven loads of laundry and a stand-alone wardrobe that didn't close and really was busting at the seams.

FOUR LARGE garbage bags filled with clothes I didn't wear or didn't fit into (sad to admit) later... and the moment of truth occurred...
...I threw one door closed like always, began to walk out the room and nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard a slam. Apparently, for months I had done the door-close method consisting of a wave in the air from three feet away and the door landed softly on the overflow of sweaters and jeans. Not today, no way.

SLAM!

I must have gone through a plain and large stage, where I though plain, long-sleeve shirts that were one size too big were all the rage. Likely, it was due to my low self-esteem and low self-confidence, much preferring to hide behind something big and inconspicuous. So, I had to chuck out about 20 Gap and Old Navy shirts that were boring and wrinkled from being at the bottom of the piles for too long.

Salvation Army, here I come!

(I feel so much better, too. Whooo!) Now if I only could finish that laundry...

:-)