Its pages are blank.
We are going to put words
on them ourselves.
The book is called Opportunity and
its first chapter is New Year's Day."
~Edith Lovejoy Pierce
Application for Minnesota Citizenship
Sex: ___ Ole ___ Lena
Home Address: ________________
Cabin Address: ________________
Religion: _____ Lutheran ______ Catholic
Income: ____We do OK. ____We're Blessed. ____Mind Your Own Hotdish.
Qualifications: (check all that apply)
___ I own a gas powered ice auger.
___ Fargo floods hit a little close to home.
___ I can name a dozen celebrities who've stayed at the Mayo.
___ I can name a dozen celebrities who've stayed at Hazelton.
___ I've been trick or treating in two feet of snow.
___ My grandmother made me eat lutefisk.
___ I liked it!
___ I've been to a block party.
___ My first beer was an Old Milwaukee.
___ My snowmobile has more miles on it than my car.
___ I have a back up set of jumper cables in my trunk.
___ Despite what everyone else says I DON'T HAVE AN ACCENT!
(Yah! For sure, you betcha I don't.)
___ I actually listen to telemarketers.
___ "Have a Nice Day" is an ORDER!
___ TV news anchors are celebrities.
___ Part of my tongue is on a flagpole somewhere.
___ It's not a rubber binder! It's a rubber band.
___ They mistake pop for "soda" or "coke" in most other states.
___ Hot Dish is neither a beautiful woman nor an overheated plate.
It's time to wear a hat when:
A) The temperature is below 10 degrees.
B) Your mother tells you to!
C) The temperature is -10 and the wind chill is in double digits.
What "UFF-DA" means to me: _____________________.
You know you're from Minnesota when...
Your idea of a traffic jam is 10 cars waiting to pass a tractor.
"Vacation" means going to Brainerd for the weekend.
You measure distance in hours.
You know several people who have hit deer more than once.
You often switch from "heat" to "a/c" in the same day.
You use a down comforter in the summer.
Your grandparents drive 65 mph through 13 feet of snow during a blizzard, without flinching.
You see people wearing hunting clothes to social events.
You install security lights on your house and garage and leave both doors unlocked.
You think of the major food groups as venison, walleye and Old Milwaukee.
You carry jumper cables in your car and your girlfriend knows how to use them.
There are 7 empty cars running in the parking lot at the grocery store at any given time.
You design your kid's Halloween costume to fit over a snowsuit.
Driving is better in the winter because the potholes are filled with snow.
You think sexy lingerie is tube socks and flannel p.j.'s.
You know all four seasons; almost winter, winter, still winter, and road construction.
It takes you 3 hours to go to the store for one item, even when you're in a rush, because you have to stop to talk to everyone in the store so you appear to be "Minnesota Nice".
You actually understand these jokes...
Oh! I didn't see you there at first. I've been so busy baking Christmas cookies for the last two weeks that I've hardly had time to think about this blog, much less it's readership. So you'll understand my surprise when I checked my stats and discovered a rather large and glorious upswing in my page views. Specifically, it went from "none" to "some".
I've had these odd little blips before and I know it doesn't lead to sustained, long-term readers but I thought I would throw out this offer anyway: If you come back, I can promise you lots of stories about boobs and poop and crazy children antics. And I'm sure my long time readers (Hi Dad!) will vouch for and tell you that I can occasionally be amusing or interesting.
I'm like a car wreck where the cars are driven by clowns. You can't look away and you feel a little bad for laughing but come on, it's clowns in a car wreck! There are giant floppy shoes all over the highway.
Okay, I lied! I'm nothing like a clown car wreck. I'm more like a housewife who's trying to avoid her domestic responsibilities.
Doesn't that sound fun?
Oh well. It was nice while it lasted.
Wow... there have been quite a few friends with serious martial problems recently. I swear that divorce (and babies for the newlyweds) have been in the water. SIGH!
It's so devastatingly sad. Each time I hear about the struggles of couples who seem to have it all together and have been together for a while, it breaks my heart and makes me question my own marriage. Will we make it? Do we have the strength, proper communication skills, trust-worthiness or whatever magic ingredient it takes to stick it out? We certainly take each other for granted and bicker quite often -- and that is when we are on speaking terms. I don't know.
Divorce is one of those strange, freaky phenomenons that you think will NEVER EVER happen to you. It's the adult form of naive-ness. Teenagers think nothing bad (at all) will ever happen to them. Adults believe they are Divorce-Proof! Then, one day, BAM! You wake up next to a stranger who is supposed to be your life-long partner...
For our gossip-happy, celebrity-crazed reading pleasure, here is a list of some memorable Celeb Splits from the 2000's.
P.S. Can you believe we are almost into a brand new decade?!?!?!
As a parent who has children who refuse to sleep and are just plain ol' awful sleepers, I was thoroughly amused by this Daddy-Blogger's (Dorky Dad: Where testorerone and hope go to die) post about "The Child Wake-Up Theorem".
The Child Wake-Up Theorem
I need to talk about a serious problem that every parent faces. It's a problem that they don't tell you about in parenting books or in seminars or in the media. Nobody talks about it, because they know the moment they say something about it, you'll take a vow of celibacy to avoid having any children -- which, by the way, is the same reason nobody talks about potty training to would-be parents.
I'm talking about the fact that kids never, ever sleep in when you want them to.
This is the Child Wake-Up Theorem: The likelihood that a child sleeps in decreases the more that child's parents want them to sleep in.I had to wake both of my kids up this morning. They slept in because I didn't want them to. The Boy had a bus to catch, which provides me with a nice, stressful deadline, which is just what I need in the morning. (For those of you who do not know, I'm what one would call a "night person." And being a "night person" makes me "grumpy" in the mornings. Ergo, a deadline makes it worse.)
The Sequel was relatively easy to wake up. I just lift him from the bed and he is virtually helpless, especially when I'm an uncomfortable ride because I'm jogging from one room to the next trying to get everything done before I have to go to work.
The Boy is not so easy. When he decides it's time to sleep in, it frequently takes a series of pulleys and a team of big horses to extract him from bed. And you'd better make sure that the straps are on tight, because the skinny little thing will find a way out of them if you don't.
This never fails. When I need them to wake up, they sleep in. When I want them to sleep in, which is on most weekends, they insist on getting up as early as humanly possible, assuming they went to bed in the first place, so they can get their full day's worth of shouting and jumping and laughing and crying and leaping upon Dad's sensitive body parts.
I should be used to this by now, for I've had offspring for five years. But my body still expects to sleep in on weekends and on holidays and I feel cheated when I don't get to.
(By the way, I also feel cheated when I have to wear nice clothes to work on Friday, when we normally get to wear jeans; maybe I could just change whenever my dressy-uppy meeting is over ...)
So when The Boy or The Sequel wakes me up early on a weekend, he reduces me to a whimpering mass of humanity, a sad spectacle for anybody who holds fathers in high regard. I do what comes naturally -- I whine, I cover my head with the pillow, and I dive underneath the covers, all the while begging the kids to please, please, for the love of all that's right in the word go ... back ... to ... sleep.
But it never happens, and I'm afraid it never will. It's our curse, as parents, to this fate.
So maybe I should get to bed.
I don't like snow. That is to say, I don't like large amounts of snow. It's the inches and inches and inches and feet of the stuff that we get here in Minnesota that I'm not so crazy about.
P.S. This is a photo from last winter because I have been too lazy to suit up and take pictures yet. plus with Christmas, my excuse is life was just too busy. Now I need to find a different excuse...
Posted by Annie at 11:21 PM
In an effort to offend as many people as possible, my sweet baby sister has taught my nine-year old daughter the words to the oldie, but goodie holiday song "Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer". Now I walk around stores or other public places with a sweet nine-year old singing a hideous song. Go me!
And my fantastic co-worker is also 36 (I think) weeks pregnant and so she will also be having her baby soon... YAHOO!!! I need my baby fix from other sources since I can't have any more babies on my own.
Aren't they so precious?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?
I got this fun Christmas meme from a fellow blogger and thought it was fun to share these things with friends, family, bloggers alike.
1. Best childhood gift from Santa: Santa pretty much brought the same things every year: socks, oranges, apples, candy canes, and some other trinkets.
2. Best childhood memories: Standing on the front porch of my childhood home when I was perhaps in first grade and being absolutely positive that Santa Claus had just stomped on top of my roof while dropping off presents for me. It was so very exciting!
3. Favorite Christmas cookies: Tough one! My mom made tons of different kinds of cookies when I was growing up. As a child, I think my favorite was always Peanut Blossoms with the Hersey Kiss on top. As an adult, I think my very favorite are Melting Moments. They rock!!!
4. Icky Christmas memory: The year I found out that Santa Claus wasn't quite what I expected. We'll leave it at that. VERY DISAPPOINTING!
5. It’s not Christmas without: Jesus. He’s the reason for the season, after all!
6. Our Church Service: Since we only get H on Christmas Eve and hubby is excessively un-religious, we don't usually attend a Christmas Service -- much to my dismay.
7. Christmas Pet Peeve: Feeling stressed when it’s supposed to be a time of tidings of comfort and joy. I’ve been better with my expectations this year and made specific plans to NOT stress out but sometimes I forget and begin to digress into Stressed Holiday Mode…
8. Favorite Christmas CD: The only Christmas CD I own is Mariah Carey's "Merry Christmas", so I guess I have to say that is my favorite.
9. Real or Fake: Definitely FAKE. Unfortunately, I am allergic to real pine trees (as well as Oak and Birch trees), so I just can't handle having one in the middle of my living room for an entire month. Also, as much as I am not a friend to the environment, I truly can't stomach the thought of cutting down a tree that takes a bazillion years to grow just so I can have it in my home for a month. It seems so irresponsible to me...
10. I spend Christmas Eve: always with my mom, sisters, husband, and children. We only get H on Christmas Eve, so it's very important to me, and all extended family, to cram as many celebrations into Christmas Eve as possible. We always do our major celebrations on Eve.
If you play along, leave a link in the comments section—I’d love to read!
I just read a great little book titled "The Divorce Party" by Laura Dave. It's fiction, of course, since I am no longer a fan of non-fiction. The way I figure it, I have very little time to read and even less time to myself, so when I do get a chance to do either, I want to be able to relax and escape into someone elses life or imagination and non-fiction, just plain ol', doesn't allow me to do that.
So this fiction book titled "The Divorce Party" was a wonderfully light and interesting read. I thoroughly enjoyed it and would recommend it to you, but that's not the reason I am blogging today.
Evidently, Divorce Parties are a REAL thing that some folks have to celebrate their newly found independence or possibly their united history. It's a really strange and foreign concept to me.
No offense -- but WHO in the halibut throws a Divorce Party?
I guess, as a child of divorced parents, it's an odd concept to me to celebrate the deterioration and break down of such a sacred union. However, it's a real concept and here to stay. Research it on your own... Google it. It's STRANGE!
Check out the following psychotic sites:
Wedding Ring Coffin: http://www.weddingringcoffin.com/Divorce-Party-FAQ/
Revenge Lady.com: http://www.revengelady.com/divorceparty.html
Divorce Party Planner: http://www.divorcepartyplanner.com/
Divorce Info: http://www.divorceinfo.com/divorceparty.htm
According to this letter to Santa, she doesn't want any gifts on Christmas Day. She would only like "love and joy". Seriously!?!?! Doesn't that just melt all of your adult bitterness away and make you feel all warm and fuzzy happy? That is soooooooo sweet.
Maybe I am not the worst mother on the face of the planet afterall...
Posted by Annie at 9:01 PM
"Never, never, never believe any war will be smooth or easy, or that anyone who embarks on the strange voyage can measure the tides and hurricanes he will encounter. The statesman who yields to war fever must realize that once the signal is given, he is no longer the master of policy, but the slave of unforeseeable and uncontrollable events."
~ Winston Churchill (1874-1965)
Truer words have rarely been spoken. I wonder why no one clued in our former President that he was "no longer the master of policy" (I don't know that he ever was!)...
Love the song "O Holy Night" in all of its various forms. Although this version with Nat King Cole isn't my very favoritest, it's definitely worthy of your moment of attention.
O Holy Night Lyrics
The words and lyrics of the old carol 'O Holy Night' were written by Placide Cappeau de Roquemaure in 1847. Cappeau was a wine seller by trade but was asked by the parish priest to write a poem for Christmas. He obliged and wrote the beautiful words of the hymn. He then realised that it should have music to accompany the words and he approached his friend Adolphe Charles Adams(1803-1856). He agreed and the music for the poem was therefore composed by Adolphe Charles Adams. Adolphe had attended the Paris conservatoire and forged a brilliant career as a composer. It was translated into English by John Sullivan Dwight (1812-1893).
O Holy Night! The stars are brightly shining,
It is the night of the dear Saviour's birth.
Long lay the world in sin and error pining.
Till He appeared and the Spirit felt its worth.
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.
Fall on your knees! Oh, hear the angel voices!
O night divine, the night when Christ was born;
O night, O Holy Night, O night divine!
O night, O Holy Night, O night divine!
Led by the light of faith serenely beaming,
With glowing hearts by His cradle we stand.
O'er the world a star is sweetly gleaming,
Now come the wisemen from out of the Orient land.
The King of kings lay thus lowly manger;
In all our trials born to be our friends.
He knows our need, our weakness is no stranger,
Behold your King! Before him lowly bend!
Behold your King! Before him lowly bend!
Truly He taught us to love one another,
His law is love and His gospel is peace.
Chains he shall break, for the slave is our brother.
And in his name all oppression shall cease.
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,
With all our hearts we praise His holy name.
Christ is the Lord! Then ever, ever praise we,
His power and glory ever more proclaim!
His power and glory ever more proclaim!
This is a perfect example of why parents should NOT spend their good, hard-earned money on toys for their children.
If you're children are anything like mine, they prefer stacking cans of vegetables and fruits into towers as tall as they are. Then to make things interesting, those intelligent wee ones begin to use the Tower O' Veggies as a "tee" and whack a wiffle ball across the kitchen with their elbows.
Gotta love their creativity but it really makes you think twice before you dole out $45 on that hottest, gotta have toy of Christmas 2009.
I don't know if you know this about me but I'm sort of attached to my phone. I pretty much always have it within arms reach. Even though most of the time no one is trying to get in touch with me it's exciting to know that at any moment someone could.
So you can imagine my distress when I woke up the other day to find that the phone that had been functioning perfectly when I went to bed was now ... not.
If my phone rang, I could answer it but not hear anything. The person calling could hear me; however, I didn't know that at first and that may have led to me swearing at my innocent mother as I tried to answer her call.
I took my phone in to the T-mobile store and I had to wait a good half hour just for my turn to seen. My three-year old son and four-year old daughter were running amok all over the store -- pulling all available phones off the display shelves, hitting up the other rowdy child in the store for some of his M&Ms, and terrorizing anyone who was within hearing range by arguing about who could sing their ABC's louder.
When it was my turn, the salesperson punched some stuff into his handy-dandy computer to bring up my account info. He told me that I was almost over on my minutes and had an overdue balance on my account and would I like to purchase a plan with more minutes or upgrade my services? I asked him if any of that was the cause of my phone not working. When he said it wasn't the cause of my issues, I politely asked him if we could please focus on the issue at hand then.
I was promptly given a nasty glare by the young man behind the counter that told me in no uncertain terms with his one piercing look that I was being rude. BUT COME ON!!! Was that really the best time to try and up-sell me a different plan?! What's that you say? I should get even more minutes that I won't be able to use on my broken phone? Sign me up!
Kids still running amok...
In conclusion, my phone is broken beyond repair and now I need to purchase ANOTHER new phone. UGH!!!
If you try to call me in the next week or so (THANKS T-MOBILE!), don't be offended if I pick up the phone and swear at you or hang up on you. It's not me. It's this stupid phone that I paid way too much for foolishly thinking that it would not break for no reason at all after only six months.