What’s In A name?

Names are funny things. We get what we get. We’re pretty much stuck with it unless we have it legally changed. Of course, there are versions of our names and nick names. Like them or not.

I wrote about the origin of my name for the Living Out Loud project. I get called all sorts of things (Some I’m sure I don’t want to know!) by all the different people in my life. I was born Susan Catherine. I go by SuziCate on my blog. My family calls me Suzi. Friends call me Suze. Some call me Sue which I hate because it reminds me of a girl at school when I was young and she always had a snotty crusty nose. And then there are Sue-Sue, Sooty, and Sam.

However, I gave myself a nickname that I use to sign my quilts. It’s Smusen. A combination of Susan with muse inserted in it. Catchy, huh? I thought so. Until I googled it last week. Ever google your name? You might be in for a big surprise. Apparently there is a Smusen out there…I think she might be from Russia, but it got a lot of hits. And there‘s a gamer out there who goes by it as well. (And I thought I was the one-hit wonder!) Anyway, that’s not what disappointed me. Here goes, seems that Smusen in Croatian means addle-brained or queer. Am I good at picking them or what? Would you like me to give you a nick name?

Fortunately, Dirt Man and I did a better job at naming our kids. Currently, they both love their names. But then again, they probably haven’t googled them!

Romancing The Gazelle

I know I’ve told you all how I just loathe exercise. I’ve told you that I’m lazy. I’ve even told you all about my Gazelle. How we’re not friends. How we’re hardly even acquainted these days. You see, he has a new job. He has evolved into a coat rack. He’s pretty good at it, too. And while he’s great at that job and I really don’t miss him, I feel the need (not desire!) to get reacquainted.

And while I feel that Tony Little’s promises of “results, results, results” totally sucks, I realize it’s not the gazelle’s fault. I have to actually use him to get results. Gee, I sound kinda like a bimbo, don’t I?

Anyway, my strategy was to romance the gazelle. I thought that I could make it more personal by giving him a name. I thought of Richard…too boring. Pierre…not my style. Calvin…too comical. I was getting nowhere. Then, I decided to go red-neck-one-step-up! I came up with Gym Beau. You’d think that would do it, huh?

Dirt Man thought the idea of romancing Gym Beau was kind of silly and uhhhh perverted. But then again, I am not going to repeat our conversation or what he thought I was going to be doing with the gazelle. I’ll only tell you I snapped back with, “No, I’m not doing that; I’m just going to be riding him!”. Ok, ‘nuff said. Any suggestion on a name for him.

Let’s just say, we’re not getting to know one another very well. I have gone on one thirty minute date with him this year. I’m trying to find ways to spark up the romance, get me really into Gym Beau. The only thing I can think of to get me on him is to fill the water bottle holder with chocolate kisses, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll get on him long enough to eat all the chocolate.


First of all, I apologize to anyone who might be fifty or over for my ranting response to letter received. Second,  a gals gotta  hang onto her youth as long as she can!

Dear AARP,

Thank you so kindly for your membership proposal. You may take it and ram it up your @$$.

In case you don’t know. I AM NOT YET FIFTY YEARS OLD!!!!! In fact I am a mere forty-six. That gives me FOUR (actually 3 ½ , but who’s counting?!) whole years to consider the advantages of your exclusive membership.

BTW, who offers oldie memberships to women who haven’t even hit menopause? I am truly becoming suspicious of your motivation.

Since you obviously have my name and address, but not my birthday, I want to know if someone sent you a photograph of me. I can explain:

Those grey hairs you see, it’s called mothering teenage boys.

The wrinkles, got them the same way.

Rounded middle…I eat my worries away.

Weak bladder. That’s from birthing those little monsters, yeah nine pounders!

Any other reasons that led you to believe that I was fifty, I will still pin on my kids, and if they don’t fit the bill, I’ll stick it on Dirt Man!

While I do appreciate the fact that you are “fighting for my American Dream”, I think I am achieving it without your assistance.

As far as other special privileges, I don’t need or want your instant savings on car rentals, eye care, dental services, pharmaceuticals, insurances, or even your cash-back credit card.

Nor am I interested in your magazine or your newsletters about money and travel. First my kids have sucked me dry as far as money goes. And travel, well, I can’t retire because I still have to pay for said children’s college expenses.

No, I will not join your local chapter. I have no interest in getting together with a bunch of retirees and playing bingo, square dancing , comparing denture creams, or whatever it is they do at their meetings! I choose to wait until I actually hit fifty, and then I’ll consider seeing what people THAT age do!

Furthermore, You should really consider an overhaul of your membership drive committee. They suck! Really, is it standard practice to send an invitation to someone only forty-six? If so, I am sure I am not the only pissed off forty-six year old out here!

But hey, I’ll keep the two membership cards you sent. I might can use them for scraping my windshield or something.

Again, I thank you for considering to allow poor little “old” me into your exclusive club. And again, SHOVE IT!!!!

Just so you know, it’s your fault that my children have just lost their inheritance. (That is what they haven’t yet sucked out of me!) They found it quite hilarious, that I received this in the mail. Now, I intend to spend every cent I have before I expire. It has become my new aspiration in life.

Yours Truly,

A young at heart (if not in photos), SuziCate

Somebody Please Save The Pregnant Lady!

My husband’s family owns a private campground on the bank of a river. We have frequented this property all of our married lives, and is a favorite place for all of the family members. In fact, the picture at the top of my blog is our own slice of heaven.

One weekend when we were camping, the water was rather high due to heavy rains. I was also quite pregnant with our second child. With all of the aunts, uncles, and cousins, we had a crowded campground that weekend. I didn’t really realize the swiftness of the current when I got in the river. I plopped my big old pregnant butt into an inner tube and commenced to relax. I closed my eyes and just let my mind drift…until SWOOSH BUMP BUMP BUMP then SPLASH. I had drifted so far I’d gone over the first set of falls.

I started screaming for someone to help me. No one else was in the river by then but they were along the banks…both sides. It was kind of hard for them to hear me over the river current, but heck they had eyes. They could see I was in the middle of the river without a paddle or stick and I was headed for the second set of falls. Did I mention I was about seven months pregnant? Another SWOOSH BUMP BUMP BUMP SPLASH…second set of falls mastered!

I could see Dirt Man with a look of panic on his face. I was screaming. Our three year old was screaming for someone to help his mommy. Dirt Man was trying to comfort him. Everyone gathered at the banks to WATCH me! Then someone yelled for me to jump off the tube. Damn, did they think I was that stupid not to think of that? Not only was I rotund with baby, but my rear was stuck pretty deep in the hole. And to top it all, my swim suit was stuck on the valve stem. The only thing moveable was my arms. I kept trying to use my arms as paddles to keep from going farther down stream.

Finally just as I neared the third set of falls, Dirt Man’s uncle pulled a limb off the shore and reached out to me. I was able to hang on, pulling myself from the tube (ripping the seat of my swim suit in the process) and swim to the side.

Everyone made a big commotion about it. I was shaken up, but mainly peeved because not a single one of them had jumped into the water to save the whale.

So, maybe I was a little over emotional and maybe a bit ruthless afterwards. But heck, everyone should know not to tick off an over emotional pregnant woman. Yeah, they were probably ready to drown the uncle for saving me!

Eventually, I forgave Dirt Man. But I decided that I couldn’t trust the rest of them to help me if I was ever in a desperate situation. Except maybe his uncle.

And just so you know, the baby was born perfectly fine and loved water from the get go! And I never again wore the swim suit with the ripped out seat. And fortunately I haven’t needed to depend on any of them to save me again!

And our campground on the river in the mountains is still a favorite weekend getaway for our kids. It’s about three and a half hours from where we live now. But they still like to take their friends there to camp, fish, swim, and just hang out.

Warning: SuziCate’s Talking About Life Purpose

This piece is a bit more introspective than what I usually write. So, if you want funny, skip me today. I went to my KPC writer’s group a few nights ago, and I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.

It’s kind of funny that I had ordered a book about journal writing about your life in search of yourself and your spiritual path. The UPS guy dropped it off right before I left for my meeting. The book is Life’s Companion/journal writing as a spiritual practice by Christina Baldwin. Finding out more about myself? Do I really want to go there?

First let me tell you that my writer’s group is held at a very large local church. The writers are an eclectic group. Members (around forty people) range from one of the several pastors of that church to housewives, attorneys, veterinarians, to secretaries. Some are published authors, many are not. They write anything from fantasy, sci-fi, romance, poetry, business briefs, to grocery lists. Each month there is a featured speaker. This month’s speaker was a life coach.

When I heard the word life coach, I was very curious. (And nervous… you know like palm reading. Ha, like I want to know if I‘m destined to fall off a cliff and die next week? I’d rather wait and know midair!) I have heard of life mapping with a life coach, and assumed life coach meant horoscopes and tarot cards, and really wondered how that was going to fly. Let’s say I was ever pleasantly surprised.

Let me give you some background. I absolutely believe I was created by God. I do not believe I was just spit out by the universe in some cosmic explosion. I grew up surrounded by an extended (father’s side) family of Jehovah’s Witnesses. (I am not one of them.) My parents never took us to church, but sometimes I went with a neighbor to a Baptist church and sometimes I went with my aunt to her kingdom hall. And my mother’s father was a devout Methodist. I never had much of a grasp on religion per se, but I strongly believed in God. I prayed (and sometimes pleaded!) daily. Bear with me, I promise to get back to the writer’s group.

I’m sure you’ve noticed that I don’t say much in depth about my life before now. I choose to talk about funny things that have happened to me along the way, and that’s just the choice that I have made. I don’t live in my past. I am a person that thinks most people are innately good. I don’t think anyone in my life has ever set out to hurt me in any way. But life was complicated when I was young, and I may have been what I call a product of circumstance, but I refuse to ever consider myself a victim. I think people have to make choices in life and other family members are some times affected by those choices. I have always been ultra sensitive. Not just meaning that I am highly emotional (which I am) but also I tend to feel what others are feeling. When I care about someone or something, I am passionate. Ok, yeah, I’m a drama queen, but at least not in a negative way.

Now, back to the life coach. First he grabbed a volunteer. You bet, I admit I was praying to the top of my lungs under my breath that it wouldn’t be me. Anyway, he set the stage by giving us what he was looking for before he asked the questions. He was looking for the “shaping” events in her life, the events that shaped who she has become. He wanted to know how it shaped her. Then he wanted to know how God/Jesus met her in those places. Then he had her take those things and convert it in a message or turn it into a life statement. It was amazing how he cut right to it.

Then he had us pair into groups with one person being the coach and the other giving the story. I was hoping to pair with my friend Patti. And I hoped to be the coach.

I guess God had other plans. The woman I was paired off with was a newcomer to the group and wanted to be the coach since she’d been a Christian since she was like four and said she had no story. Well, let me tell you she ripped my story right out of me! In less than five minutes she found that I grew up in a house full of older people who didn’t have much time for me. I wouldn’t say I was necessarily neglected but that I was lonely. (I am currently a comforter of sorts/ a provider for small children. Know that this is not a career I set out for. I was sort of thrown into or you could say it chose me. Coincidence? Maybe.) I found God at that time as a comforter. I was held up at gunpoint many years ago. You may see this for my story. God met me then as a protector. I told her about having panic attacks after the hold up and going through therapy and being on antidepressants. I had tried to go off of them with the assistance of my therapist without success. I finally surrendered and prayed about it. And believe it or not, it was prayer and not deep breathing which finally saw me through it. (I have now been med-free for over seven years. I have since made changes in my lifestyle, relationships, and thought process. All for the sake of finding inner (which leads to outer) peace. Yeah, I’m less of a drama queen now.(Imagine what I used to be like!) We found that my message about my relationship with God to be that “He comforts me in distress, protects me in turmoil, and leads me to perfect peace”. All that in less than five minutes.

I absolutely believe in God, and while I would not call Christian writing to be my genre, I feel that some of my writing might reflect my beliefs.I realize I mostly (at least in my blog) write about life, and yes, I do use a lot of sarcasm. And even though I seldom share this, I often talk to God. I have no problem venting as well as expressing gratitude. I actually even send a little prayer up every time I hear a siren. I sometimes wish I could stop because I even annoy myself. And no, I can not believe I just admitted that. Oh, well. This is just a part of who I am. I am not even currently active at my church, but yet I have this thing going with God that I don’t feel I have to have a middle man(church). I guess you could say I am on hiatus until I decide if I want to continue at my current church or embark on the journey of finding a new one. I am working through the disenchantment of watching church politics in action and the placement of cliques in the church system. Come on, this ain’t high school, ya know!

As God is continually shaping me daily, I will go where He takes me. Where will it be? I don’t know. But I do know that I am in for the ride!

I realize I veered off my normal blogging course to share my spiritual journey with you. I guess I wanted you to see that there is more to SuziCate than what I usually throw at you.

This is a workbook by this life coach to find out more about oneself and life purpose. A Leader’s Life Purpose Workbook by Tony Stolzfust (Please do not let thie be confused with Rick Warren’s The Purpose Driven Life)   http://www.amazon.com/Leaders-Life-Purpose-Workbook-Discovery/dp/0979416388/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1264014204&sr=1-2

Pizza and Beer, Our Mark of Friendhip

I spent yesterday afternoon with Chris. She is the little older Italian lady that I’ve been friends with for over 26 years. We had a blast.

A few weeks ago I took her grocery shopping. While we were out, we decided to get P & B (that is pizza and beer). This has been a ritual for us for years. Anyway, we went to this pizza parlor, and the cute little young waitress came over and asked what she could get for us. Chris said that we’d like to order a pizza and beer. She informed us that they didn’t serve beer. Here this little woman ( in her eighties) looked the waitress straight in the eye and asked, “What kind of a pizza joint doesn’t serve beer?”. The look on the waitresses face was priceless. I started laughing. Chris started laughing. And then the waitress laughed as well. Then she asked if we still wanted to eat there since they didn’t serve beer. Chris is a sweetheart, but if I try to pay for lunch she gets downright angry at me. And I really don’t want her spending her money. I know she lives on a fixed income, so I’d rather her not waste her money on me when I can treat her.

So, that takes us to yesterday. I decided to surprise Chris with a DiGiorno pizza, two bottles of beer, and chocolate cookies (I know I totally blew my “nondiet” for the day, maybe the week, but it was so worth it !)for us to have after we went grocery shopping. She was delighted.

Chris and I have her shopping down to an art. She makes out her list and itemizes them in categories where they are located in the store. I take her list, read it to her, and mark off item as we get it. Remember her eyesight is failing her now…she feels the produce like roma tomatoes, and then I scan over them for blemishes. I sort through her coupons for her. We’re in and out fairly quickly. While I might be doing her a service because she needs someone to take her, it means just as much to be because I absolutely love this time with my friend.

I was able to lug her groceries up to the second floor apartment in two trips because bless her heart she insisted on carrying a few bags. Again, she got angry when I tried to take the bags from her. I know it must be difficult to come to terms with not being able to do all the things you used to do.

I told Chris that even though she couldn’t see as well as she used to or move quite as fast that I was quite sure she would still kick some ass if someone messed with me. She raised her fist in the air and said “You bet I would!”. She’s more than a good friend. She’s family. Kind of a second mother and friend rolled into one.

So, after we put the groceries away, we had pizza and beer. And a couple hours of conversation. She has known the most interesting people in her lifetime. Let me say, she can tell a story. She has such a wonderful sense of humor. I have more fun with her than most of my friends my own age. If you weren’t looking at us you’d never know there was about a forty year difference in our ages.

Pizza and beer are good for the soul. Friendship is good for the heart. And cookies, well they’re good for everything!

Random Observations

If you own a dog and don’t scoop poop for two weeks, the dog can just about shit her weight (85 lbs in this case) in that amount of time.

When about 1000 birds congregate on my street and make horrendous noises, it makes me want to come inside and hide under my cover because I think of Alfred Hitchcock’s “The Birds”. It also makes me wonder if there is some natural phenomenon about to happen that they but not I can sense.

It is discouraging to find that I have more cleavage between my butt cheeks than between my breasts.

How is it that two seemingly intelligent people ,ok one intelligent person and one dimwit (I am dissing myself not Dirt Man!), can go into a grocery store with a list of 10 items and spend $300? So, we tried eating first and only spent $165, and Dimwit ended back at the store three days later and spending $100 more. This week we spent less than $150 and bought three bottles of wine. Am wondering how long before the household claims there is no food and Dimwit will be back at the store.

Cars drive much easier if you remember to disengage the emergency brake!

To the neighbor one street over, your pink plastic flamingos lining your driveway and sidewalk are tacky not exquisite yard décor. Your yard looks like you were flocked and someone forgot to take them down many months later.

Neighbor three houses down from that one, you don’t need to come out and spray disinfectant every time a dog pees on the concrete or grass in front of your house. I am pretty confident that those cigarette butts you stomp in the same place pose much more of an environmental and health hazard than dog piss.

If I haven’t called you in a while, it does not mean I am angry at you but have been busy. Does that mean if you don’t call me in a while you are angry at me? Just wondering.

Why is it that toddlers refuse to eat delicious homemade macaroni and cheese, yet they will devour that powdery pasty kind in a box?

Fitting into a smaller size jean isn’t always as grand as it seems…sometimes it just makes more fat hang over the jean’s waist.

My dog’s favorite person in the house is whoever is eating at the moment.

Why can’t the bank people read the second line on my checks that say “and no cents” instead of thinking that it is 10 cents in the little box by the dollar amount? Doesn’t bother me, but it drives Dirt Man crazy that they keep doing it and the account will end up being 20 cents off at the end of the month. Hmmmmm, I wonder if it’s a scam and they are racking it up by sticking it to lots of people for measly amounts.

Why is it that when I have all the time in the world to do the things I’ve been wanting to do that I don’t want to do them right then?

Where Is Old Clint When I Could Use A Hand?


My weight is at 145 lbs this week. I actually lost two pounds!! Yipee!! Finally!!! I know you’re thinking that I was at 150 so that’s actually five pounds to which I’d really be whooping it up with a victory dance. The truth is that Dirt Man had set the scales up three pounds and my son reset the scales to the correct weight. We are having a debate in our house over the scales. Three of us claim that the scales have been correct all along. Dirt Man kept insisting that they were off three pounds since I bought them. He sets them up three pounds and then someone else resets them to the zero. I like the scales weight because it says I weigh three pounds less than Dirt Man’s version. Dirt Man claims they’re three pounds off of the doctor’s scales. Youngest Son claims they’re right on the money. Both were weighed at the same doctor’s office on the same set of scales. Go figure!



I went out to dinner and probably gained back the two pounds I had lost. But it was so totally worth it. Steak. Shrimp. Jasmine rice. Asian Vegetables. Not too fattening, huh? I haven’t gotten to the TO.DIE.FOR. CHOCOLATE CRÈME BRULEE. I probably spelled that wrong, but it was absolutely heavenly. And I’m pretty sure that spelling doesn’t count in Heaven! I didn’t finish my meal because I had all intentions of having dessert. I even let Dirt Man have half of the brulee. Yes, I know I am ever so generous. And it was so unbelievably rich I couldn’t eat it all. It’s been a while since I’ve had anything that delectable. Besides once I tell you the Ugly part you’re going to know that I totally deserved this meal! And the beer I had before the meal. Truly I deserved at least two desserts (and two beers!) after what had happened earlier. And now…



Remember I run a daycare? About an hour before pick up, one of my little charges was crying hysterically because another little girl was tormenting the dickens out of him. I picked him up to comfort him. We settled into the sofa to cuddle, and then IT happened. He started vomiting every where. All in my hair. Over my blouse, my jeans, even got my socks. It was the gift that just kept giving! He covered all the sofa cushions and the throw pillows. I need not remind you of the type of food toddlers eat, do I?! Well, I had to quarantine the other children, get the dog out to keep her from eating it (YUCK!), strip the child down, and the sofa cushions, and myself. There is no word to describe this…disgusting is much too calm to describe this. So, here I am half naked down stairs praying that no parent, especially not one of the fathers walks in, while I am doing this or while I am running up to the third floor to get myself some clean clothes (and dunk my head in a sink to clean my hair!). Oh, and right before this happened, someone stopped up the toilet and it overflowed…guess who got to clean that up, too.

So, after all of the drama had unfolded and child had been picked up and the area sanitized, I called Dirt Man and told him that I was not cooking dinner and he was taking me out. Check on both counts.

Stinky Feet Dirt Man

Some people think it’s just awful that I refer to my husband as Dirt Man on my blog. Well, he’s fortunate I don’t call him stinky feet! Ok. I’m going to explain both to you.

Dirt Man is a civil engineer and works for a general contractor that does site development. He is in the field as often as he is in the office. When our children were small, he was exclusively in the field. Dirt Man has never been one to hesitate to get his hands (or his entire body!) dirty in order to get something done. He has no problem jumping on a piece of machinery and doing it himself. In fact, I think he kind of likes it. Anyway, when our oldest son was in elementary school, he wrote a poem about his Daddy being the dirtiest man in the world. That my friends is why I call him Dirt Man. Bless his Mama’s heart , she did not stick him with that name…I did!

On to the stinky feet part. It really isn’t his fault. One night we were sitting in the living room, both of us pounding away on our keyboards and I caught a whiff of..of..what…stench.

Me: Dang, you stink! Could you please do that somewhere else?

Dirt Man: That wasn’t me. It was the dog.

Me: Yeah, right. You always blame the dog.

The smell continued and the dog was right at my feet, so I knew it wasn’t her. He kept professing his innocence. Finally, I realized he really wasn’t lying. This time.

So, then I start sniffing around the room. Yeah, I looked like an idiot, but I found the source. It was his freakin boots.

Me: You better clean these boot. You stepped in dog crap.

Dirt Man: I did not. I haven’t been anywhere.

Upon close inspection of his boots, we found there was no dog poo. In fact, they still looked like he’d just taken them out of the box. Actually, he pretty much had just taken them out of the box.

Now Dirt Man had been wearing Merrell boots for years. Mostly because they felt great and were good quality. However, he had never ordered this particular style. He continued wearing his stinky boots. Eventually the stench wore off and the boots wore out.

Now, the new Merrell boots come into play. Dirt Man just bought another pair. The exact same type as the last ones. Merrell Chameleon Ventilator Mid Goretex. These stink, too. Is it the leather? Is it the Goretex? The combination?

Dirt Man decided to write a review of them at the site he purchased them. At $150 a pair, a comfortable shoe shouldn’t stink! He had to fill out an online questionnaire. One of the questions inquired where you wear them. Dirt Man replied, “Obviously, not in public!”. He went on to say that he is constantly checking himself to make sure he didn’t step in dog poo. The following is the only part of his review that was published, “The last two pairs I have bought smell. Obviously, the quality of the shoe outweighs the smell.” But the two people who have read his review claimed it to have been helpful. Now, that’s my Dirt Man, keeping people’s feet smelling good, one pair at a time!

A Double Dose Of Sugar

With all of my “nondieting” going on, I have been in dire need of some sweets. I have been about ready to kill for a little sugaaaahhhh.

Well, it’s time to admit that I have a little stash. I’ve been holding out on you. I was saving it for a special day. It’s time to break it out. Today is my 100th post, so what could be a sweeter day?

I received this twice. Yes, a double dose of sugar on the very same day. Spot from What Passes For Sane On A Crazy Day awarded me with this first. If you don’t know Spot, head on over and tell her I sent you. She is one sassy and funny woman who knows how to tell it like it is. She knows how to add some spice to life. And then , I received it from Angelia at Living, Loving, Laughing… Go on over and introduce yourself. Angelia’s blog is a buffet. I never know whether I’m going to laugh or cry until I get there. But both blogs fill my heart, warm my soul, and make me feel great.

These are the award rules:

1. List 10 things that make you happy.
2. Try to do at least one thing on the list today.
3. List 10 bloggers who brighten your day.
4. Those of you to whom I give this award are to link back to my blog and perpetuate the happy with your own lists and recipients and whatnot.

Since I got this award twice. I guess I’ll have to come up with double lists. I’m sure I can come up with a list of twenty things that make me happy. I will try to come up with twenty bloggers to pass this on to.

To let you know #’s 1 and 3 are scratched off for today, but it’s early yet and expect to experience #’s 2,5,9,12,14, and 16 before the end of the day. Oh, happy days!

1. Waking up beside Dirt Man. (Don’t you just love waking up next to the person you love, even if they snore…I’m the snorer!)

2. Bear hugs from my goddaughter. (Nothing sweeter than baby love)

3. Cup of French press in the morning, especially if Dirt Man makes it. (I gotta wake up somehow!)

4. Sunshine with a cool breeze in my face at the same time (Ah, the best of both worlds)

5. Talking to my sister, Peg, on the phone, almost every day. (She’s funny and she makes my day)

6.Seeing how excited Wylie (dog) gets when she gets a new stuffed toy (I am such a sucker for dogs)

7. When my grown sons tell me they love me (not very often anymore, and tell me a mom who doesn’t like to hear it)

8. VACATION (‘Nuff said there!)

9. Reading your blogs (You’re with me there, right?)

10. An old worn pair of pajamas I love…I smile every time I put them on! (I’m talking comfort!)

11.Rainbows (Maybe someday I’ll find that pot of gold)

12. Baby giggles (Sweet pure innocense and love)

13. Anyone else’s cooking (It’s always tastes better if someone else does the work!)

14. Listening to water, whether it’s a roaring river, babbling brook, or even rain on the rooftop…my exception is a leaky faucet.

15. When someone else rolls the garbage and recycle bins to the curb and back after they’ve been emptied. (I’m lazy)

16. The smell of fresh laundered clothes (I like the smell of clean)

17. When someone likes something I’ve made for them (Just a good feeling in the heart)

18. When I get a snail mail card (Admit it, you do, too!)

19.When Dirt Man goes to the grocery store with me. (I call it an appreciation tour!)

20. When my boys clean the house with no ulterior motives. (And it does happen on very rare occasions!)

All of the blogs I read brighten my day. Jane is my first stop every morning. Everybody needs a little Jane to start off their day. She really makes think and want to be a better person, and sometimes she makes me snort my coffee. The rest are fairly new blogs to me, but I’m really enjoying reading each of them every day. Some of these blogs are laugh-out-loud-funny, some are introspective, some are food blogs, and some are photograpghy. Now, go check them out.

1. theycallmejane’s blog –   After you meet Jane, you are gonna feel like you’ve just met your new bestfriend!

2. Airing my dirty laundry

3. The locals love it

4. Ramblings of a Wild for Words Woman

5. Bernthis

6. Anutinanutshell

7. The Raisin Chronicles

8. Jan’s Sushi Bar

9. Expat from Hell

10. Journaling through photos

11. My kashi diet

12. pearl-why you little

13. Whenpigsfly

14. Thekitchenwitch

15. My life incomplete

16. an acorn dreaming

17. Allegriaimagesbylynn

18. Biggest Diabetic Loser

19. Chocolate Covered Daydreams

20. What I Should Have Said 

Remember you guys only have to do TEN of each!