Are They Ever Going To Leave?!

Its been weird having one foot in SD and one foot in MN.  On the one hand, I haven't had to say any hard and final good byes, which I like . . .mostly because I hate being emotional.  I've never learned the art of crying gracefully, so I don't.  At least not in front of people, if I can help it.  **Awhile back, we had to get blood drawn for our life insurance policies that we were taking out on each other.  As the nurse puts the needle in my vein and blood starts to flow, Boyd states:  "Wow, you're not completely made of ice after all."**  Nice.  No.  No, I'm not. 

The first official week in SD went pretty well . . . despite the children being sick, despite the blizzard and despite having to learn a new job (for me).   A few things I found interesting:  When first finding my way to the new office I will be working at, I realize I turn right at the sign that says:  "Deer Hides for Sale".  It's written in red paint - kind of creepy. 

Important business:  Fellow Watertownians:  Does anyone else wonder why Senior Max's flashing sign gives their food possessive powers?  Chimi's, Taco's, Burrito's.  Are the tacos owning something?  I don't get it.  If someone can please change the sign, I would be most appreciative.  Thank you.

We made our way back to Stillwater Thursday night.  We TRY and stay diligent on working while we are here but its hard.  As familiar as we are with SD, since we visit often and both grew up there . .. MN had become our home.  Its comfy.  I know where I'm supposed to be while I am here.  Our friend, Darren, came over Friday night and we checked out a local Japanese Steakhouse. mmmm . . delicious.  Ladies . . . Darren is single.  He's hilarious and helpful.  One of my all-time favorite people.  Please send me an email if interested. :)  A quote I overheard from Boyd while he and Darren were in the middle of an intense fooseball game: "They call me the Queen down at the Club".  I immediately started laughing my head off.  Boyd claims he said "McQueen" in reference to his lightning speed and reflexes. . . regardless . . . you don't use the word QUEEN anywhere in a sentence to describe yourself if you are a man.  **Men, please make a mental note**

Last night, we went to Smalley's (Caribbean BBQ) with Ben (long time MN friend) and his girlfriend, Becca.  Boyd and I arrived early to get a table. Unfortunately, within 5 minutes of us being seated, the 8 adults at a nearby table raised their glasses with a loud pirate "ARGH!" - - because after all, it is a "caribbean" BBQ.   Initially, I had assumed since the table was mixed with men and women, we would be okay. Sidenote: I ALWAYS avoid being seated next to large groups of women.  You cannot trust all-women tables.  The shrill . . my goodness the shrill.  I'm basically leary of any "only women" events.  **However, Sister1 went to Cabo with only girls.  This rule does not apply with small numbers of women traveling to tropical paradises.**  I'm sidetracked again.  My apologies. 

I love having a social calendar on our weekends back.

Stillwater house progress:  The stairways are nearly finished.  I am supposed to be applying poly to the rebar and posts.  I get all the smelly jobs.  Boyd is finishing the railing upstairs this weekend.  We are using up the last of our savings to hire some work done.  I'm hoping our savings lasts like the five loaves and 2 fish in the Bible.  Or is it 5 fish and 2 loaves . . .  you get the idea.  Regardless, the main flooring should start being laid while we are in SD this coming week.  Yes!  If any Minnesota people are reading this and are interested in renting or buying - - please shoot me an email (slknudsen7@yahoo.com)

The exterior complete - except for porch.

Have I mentioned that I love this house?  We went with an industrial marries wood concept.  I just came up with that. Impressed?   

Boyd and Mr. Hobbs finishing the upstairs railing

Boyd and I are still arguing about who came up with the rebar idea.



Pantry Door - re-used an old door we found



Main floor.  The wood flooring will be in soon.

One of the bedrooms.  We love lofted ceilings.

I love this bathroom.  You can't see it but there are 2 sink stations.

And that is the tour.  Its tough taking pictures because there is always something not done in a room.  But its getting closer.  Have I mentioned there is a darling park right across the street?

I just heard a thump followed by a: "Son of a _____".  I should check on Boyd.

Welcome.

We ended up leaving for SD on Saturday night to escape the blizzard that was to arrive on Sunday.  Boyd decided to get sick right when he got to Minnesota on Friday so he was delightful company for the weekend.

Boyd slept the entire way on the drive to SD.  It was annoying.

We arrived at Sister1's house around 11pm.  She did not know until 2 hours before we arrived that we were coming on Saturday instead of Sunday.  Surprise!!! She was hosting a "farewell" party for a friend.  Does anyone else find it ironic that I'm arriving at the same time someone else is "fleeing"??  I certainly don't.   I had forgotten to brush my hair or put on makeup before we left for for the "big move".   It was awesome.  I always make great first impressions.  Boyd made himself right at home and cleaned up all of the leftovers.  Wait a minute . . . I thought he was sick and so tired that he couldn't form sentences together.

Oli really likes me.  Its sweet and a little intrusive.  I went to use the bathroom and he charges in after me . .. with Lou (our beagle) following behind.  I tell him to wait outside and I will just be a minute . . . all I hear is wailing: "BUT I LOVE YOU!" All right, alright . . . c'mon in, buddy.

He has also been "helping" me unpack.  I take this to mean that throwing items out of my suitcase and then hiding it and yelling for me to find him over and over and over and over and over again . . . . is being helpful.  For a 2 yr old . . . it probably is.

I think Oli and Lou are going to be pretty good friends.  I found the two of them licking plates in the dishwasher when the door was open.  Sister1 will be proud.

O got up this morning and had a fever.  And then he threw up.  Awesome.

Dang.  Oli just threw up.   And now he is informing me that he would like "a nice, warm bath".  

Random.

It's the weekend.  My parents are here along with Brother2.  He's 12.  Remember?  My parents had him when they were OLD.  At 39.

A few highlights of the weekend:

So far we have accomplished that Boyd and I disagree on everything that has to deal with efficiency and  level of importance.  What would you rate paint-touch-ups on over 200 rafters at???  On a scale of 1-10 with 10 being the highest - I would rate it at 1.2.  Personally, I think STAIRS would be nice to have.  Yes. I do.  I also think potential renters or buyers would feel the same way.   The other issue of the rafters is he wants me to use oil-base paint to do it.  I don't do oil base paint.  I HATE IT.  I DESPISE IT.  And so I had to put my foot down.  Boyd then says, "Fine, I will do it." - - WHICH IS STUPID because he's the only person who has any sort of talent.  So, I called his bluff.  I was afraid his stubbornness would win out over common sense . . .and it may have, but fortunately, his forgetfulness came through for me.  So, the rafters are not "touched up" and I think they look beautiful. 
***
We are a vision of marital bliss.
***
Brother2 has really been working on using stilts.  He also built crutches to use while on the stilts.  Its been very productive.
***
Mr. Hobb's litter is in the office as I type.  Right by my feet.  The stench is powerful.  Is your question:  Why is the litter in the office or why does she not move it?  I have no answers for you.
***
Boyd just tried on dress pants that Sister2 and I had picked up for him at Banana Republic. We decided he should look nice for her wedding coming up in June.  The pants are super long on him . . .  I asked him what he thinks.  He says:  "THESE ARE PERFECT!"  Do you see what I am dealing with here?  DELUSIONAL.
***
Conversation overheard:
Brother2:  Boyd!  What's your favorite dinosaur?
Boyd: (silence - thinking) Why do you ask?
Brother2:  I just don't think I've ever asked you that before.
Boyd:  I'd have to go with the Triceratops. 
Good LORD.
***
Lou has been sneaking poop from Mr. Hobb's litter box.  He's crafty and has bad breath.
***
Have I mentioned that I hate living in construction?  Tis' True.  Here is a picture of my kitchen.  Dad is standing on the kitchen island, while Mom and Sister2 are making a hotdish.  We love a good hotdish.   

Don't be alarmed.  Polyurethane in the casserole is perfectly fine.

Sister2 to Mom:  "If you, Dad and Brother2 sleep downstairs on the floor, I guess I will stay." (this would leave the guest bedroom to the Princess.)
***
Mom:  "You need to show more respect to your parents."
***
Mom just let yet another fart slip:  "oops"

Another Dinner. Another Broken Finger.

Have I mentioned my sadness over leaving such great, easy food choices?  Yes? No?  Well, I am sad.  Very sad.  My friend, Wendi, was kind enough to meet me at Big Bowl for a "last hurrah" of asian-food-goodness.

Wendi is a friend I have had FOREVER. We grew up together in the same small school and somehow even though we went our separate ways, we stayed in touch AND THEN she moved to the Cities.  Oh happy day.  I've played co-ed softball with her every summer.  I will really miss that.  She has been informed that she has to see me every time she steps foot in the Prairie. She's so lucky. :)

Here we are in our "glory days".  Actually . . Wendi maybe had glory days, I really didn't. . . unless you count my spelling bee days.  Ahhh . . . yes . . . . I was a mean speller back in the day. I'm really upset that I ended up throwing my bee trophies away.  Brother1 would taunt me about my lack of sports trophies EVEN THOUGH I had plenty of purple 4-H ribbons and spelling bee trophies.  Not to mention my poster winnings.  The family all got to go the state's capital and stay in a HOTEL with a POOL all because of me and my drug poster. (picture this:  The Wizard of Oz scarecrow next to the yellow brick road.  The heading: "If you only had a brain you wouldn't use drugs.") Clever, eh? He wasn't complaining about my lack of athletic skill then. 

Me and Wendi.  We've got spirit, yes we do!

Where was I?  I'm rambling.  Again.  My apologies.  Again.  So, while at dinner (Big Bowl), with Wendi (my friend), I get a frantic call from Sister2.

Sister2: (gasping) "I blah lbha lhb lahbl" 
Me:  WHAT?!
Sister2: "I think I broke my finger."
Me:  That sucks - Are you hyperventilating?!
Sister2: (silence)
Me:  Seriously . . are you in shock?
Sister2:  No.
Me:  Well, I'm at Big Bowl . . can it wait?

Riveting conversation, yes?.  In a nutshell, she smashed her middle finger by trying to catch a HUGE exercise ball while having dumb bells in her hands.  Silly girl.  I had warned her before that exercising is dangerous.

She gets a ride to Allina Clinic Urgent Care.  I go to pick her up after my dinner with Wendi.  I wait for an hour in the nastiest waiting area I have ever seen.  They still had tacky Christmas wreathes on the wall.  It creeped me out.  Honestly??? Does anyone work here?  Is the entire staff blind?  How good is the care here if they don't even care about poor decorations and untimeliness of clean-up?  Why doesn't the receptionist walk to the pathetic little wreath and lift it off the nail and shove it in the garbage?  I instantly cannot trust this clinic.  No way. 

After 40 minutes of sitting in the creepy waiting area (cursing my bad luck of not having my Kindle with - lesson learned, I will never leave the house again without it.), I ask the receptionist if I can go back and hang out with Sister2.  I was hoping that this might remind the staff that "Oh yea . . . there's a girl here with a broken finger!  We should check on her." I'm nice and passive aggressive like that.  It didn't work - we were there for another 40 minutes.

End result:  Broken middle finger.  Such irony.

AND THEN.  I drove Sister2 to her place and then drove myself home where I was greeted by a starving, overly-dramatic cat.

Me, Hobbs, Superbowl and Poo

Since Boyd started his new job, I have been holding down the fort.  I now only see him on the weekends.  I feel as though I share joint custody of him with his parents.  Dislike. The joint custody thing - - not his parents. **Although, if this were a case for joint custody, he no doubt has it better with his parents.  Every time I ask him what he had for lunch it's always: "homemade this or homemade that".  They are undoing all my hard work for the past 10 years:  training Boyd to enjoy take-out food and preservatives.** 

Mr. Hobbs, the cat, has been keeping me company.  I like Mr. Hobbs but he doesn't help my nerves.  He's fat and has a tendency to sound like an intruder.  For the record, I have nothing against fat cats. 

Hobbs likes to molest my brown furry blanket.  I now have to keep the brown furry blanket just for Hobbs and I bring down a separate one for myself.  Its kind of embarrassing to have to explain to company why they shouldn't use the brown blanket . . . "its Mr. Hobbs - don't make me explain." *sigh*

Hobbs and I watched the Superbowl last night.  He was cheering for the Steelers and I was rooting for the Packers.  I won and taunted him ruthlessly.  He then went and pooped in my shower.  He has no sense of humor. Damn cat.

During the game I texted Sister1 (who is in Mexico soaking up the sun): "Me and Hobbs watching the Superbowl . . . this is a new low".  She didn't text me back.  I'm assuming she was either (a) too embarrassed for my lack of social life or (b) in the pool.  Its a toss-up.

I also tried to trim some of Mr. Hobbs' fur.  I nearly cut off part of his ear.  I DIDN'T but it was close.  He may have been upset about this too . . . not sure.  It was a busy night.


This post is riveting.  What will happen next?

I may just pay bills . . or clean the bathroom (don't worry, I already cleaned up the cat poop) . . .

Here's some pics of Mr. Hobbs:

Mr. Hobbs trying to be helpful by crushing all of my files.

Sister2 and Hobbs. He's technically her cat but we get the honor of feeding and cleaning up after him.

In other news:  In 2 weeks I am moving to a different state; will be set back about 12 years by living in spare bedrooms; saying goodbye to a job I have really enjoyed and saying hello to new employment.

P.S. I get to meet up with my friend, Shawna, for dinner at Potbellys.  Oh . . Dream Bar . . how I will miss you (and Shawna . . .I will miss her too.)

Social Eating

It's common knowledge that I'm not the "best cook in the world".  I have no doubt that I could be, BUT I just don't put the effort into it. :)  Its this same confidence/delusion that allows me to believe I could be an astronaut or a surgeon but just didn't feel like it.

I like to eat out.  A lot.

AND, since we are moving, I have dinner dates lined up.  Tonight, I am meeting my friend Stacy at Mara & Mi in Stillwater.  It is a delightful place full of stationary, artwork, and  . . . . cupcakes.  Yes.  My dinner is going to be cupcakes and hot chocolate . . . or a mocha but let's not get too crazy.  It is a work night after all.

Side note. 

Boyd started his new job today.  He has neglected to answer any of my 40+ texts.  I'm not sure why he doesn't feel the need to tell me (1) if he made any new friends today (2) what he wore for his first day at work, and (3) did he have to sit by himself at lunch.

He's not very helpful.

No cupcakes for him.

Another side note:  For those of you concerned.  My face rash went away.  Victory!