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We did end up going on a road trip for the hubster’s birthday yesterday. Thanks to Diners Drive Ins and Dives on the Food Network, we ended up at The Triple XX Drive In, which had been featured on that show. We both got huge pork tenderloin sandwiches with onion rings and fries. Then we washed it down with the Triple XXX’s homemade root-beer. WOW! I am ready for a road trip back there today! You can see by the remnants of my plate that I liked it.


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We rounded off the hubster’s birthday with a movie at our favorite Art-house theater. We saw In Bruges. It was a good movie, and an interesting movie. But at the end I couldn’t help myself, I was so surprised that it was over that I yelped “No, they can’t end it like this!” I think the entire theater agreed with me. I won’t spoil it for you though. Go see it!

All in all, it was a good birthday for the hubster and the best part is that it continues today. I gave him a gift certificate for an hour long head to toe body massage from the gal does my weekly massages. It is the same gal that gave him his Valentines Day massage. I am jealous because I know how good he is going to feel. This is one of those rare times that I wish it was MY birthday.

Today is the hubster’s birthday. (Happy Birthday Baby!) In honor of which we are going to travel this great state of Indiana in search of a gianormous burger that he saw on the Food Network. That Food Network has been such a detriment to my diet. That extra 30 pounds I’m carrying around on my wide-load butt; courtesy of the Food network. I wonder if I can sue them?



Our visit with the widow of the hubster’s fathers’ best friend (and Navy buddy) was a nice one, abet a sad one. Charlotte is not doing so well right now and wasn’t even well enough to go out to lunch with us. It was sad to see and heartbreaking to know that would be the last time we would ever see her. We’ve really enjoyed her company and can not begin to tell you how much her stories of the Hubster’s dad meant to him. She has touched my heart in a way that will leave a lasting impression, even long after she is gone. And in a way, what more could one ask of life than to be remembered by others when you are gone.



After our two hour visit with Charlotte, the hubster and I went for a late lunch at a place we had been at once before in that town. When Charlotte took us to Kings Barfette last year we loved it. Now we are wondering if we loved it because it was good, or because we were starving that day? All we know is this time it was one of the nastiest place we have ever eaten. Or not eaten as the case may be, because we didn’t eat very much. It was too nasty. The peach blossom was good though.

The hubster and I met friends last night for dinner at Red Robin. Other than over loading on beef and onion rings, we had a great time. I am going to miss our friends here in the Midwest. We stayed at the restaurant for three hours, eating, drinking, and having fun. When the waitress brought the bill both the hubster and our friends went to grab it. I kicked the hubster under the table to let him know not to take the bill. He thought I meant I wanted him to take the bill and he not only grabbed it, but also left a very generous tip. Believe me, you don’t want to know what the bill came to. I need to work on my kicking signals with the hubster. When I kick you in the leg, that means cease all activity, especially activities which involve grabbing dinner checks. Read and learn men, read and learn.



And speaking of the hubster, today his job is packing up the garage. I’ve only been after him for a month to do that. I told him if I did it I would throw everything away. I would too. I mean, the man has every conceivable size of nail, screw, nut or bolt that you has ever been made. Do we really need to move them all seven hundred miles with us? I don’t think so. But apparently he does. His garage packing started at 9am today. Here it is 4pm and he is not even halfway through packing the garage. He did have a detour I admit. He accidentally let off the fire extinguisher in the hall coat closet. Don’t ask me how, I am still wondering that myself. I can tell you this though, it was a Gawd awful mess! It took him two hours to clean it up. (Notice I didn’t say ME. I was having no part of it). Part of me is going to miss him when he leaves for Maryland on Saturday, but another part is going to relish the peace and quiet.

I received an email from my sister in law this morning. You know she said my house was going to sell on February 19th? Well she has a reason why it didn’t sell on the day she said it would. She says that it is my fault that the house hasn’t sold and that the house will never sell until I learn my lesson. She quoted something from an Edgar Casey book? And she said the Gods are trying to teach me patience and I am not learning. Therefore the house will not sell until I wise up and start listening to the Gods. Gee, and I thought all you had to do was stick a for sale sign in your front yard. She even called me ‘Missy’. Hmph!

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Oddly enough I am depressed. I can’t imagine why I would be depressed. I am about to embark on a new life in a new area of the country, when if my house ever sells. If it doesn’t? I guess I’ll be sitting here in this empty house gathering cobwebs on my person. And the fact that the skies keep pelting me with snow each and every day doesn’t help my depression any. No, not at all. What I am really depressed about is that another home sold yesterday, just 2 blocks away. It was much smaller than ours, I mean a lot smaller. And it did not have some of the nicer things that ours does. The kitchen looked horrible and was really tiny. But yet it sold after being on the market for 2 weeks. Ours will have been on the market one month as of tomorrow. Yes, I have good reason to be depressed. The hubster, he gets to start his new life in seven days. My life is in limbo until this damned house sells.


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In fact, the hubster is packing as I write this. He flies out next Saturday to start his new job in Maryland, while I sit in this big empty house alone. Well, not quite alone. I’ll have a stinky dying dog with me. Who, I might add, will most likely go into a decline once the hubster leaves, and pass away shortly thereafter. I always get stuck with the dirty work. I remember when Moose first started acting sick. I was the one who had to take him to the vet and hear the news that our doggie has terminal cancer. It’s the same when he needed to go to the boarder when we go on vacations, I am the one who has to drop him off. So when we pick the dog up, I am the one he is mad at for leaving him at the boarder in the first place. Yes, I get stuck with the shit jobs.

We are meeting friends for dinner tonight. It will most likely be the last time we see them, in this state at least. They have promised that they will come to visit. And they very well may, but somehow I doubt it. You know how you promise to stay in touch, but never do. It’s no ones fault, we all just get busy with our lives and the next thing we know it’s been ten years since we’ve seen our good friends. Just a fact of living I suppose. And Monday we are going to a town an hour away to see a good friend who was the wife of the hubster’s father’s best friend. The hubster’s father and this woman’s husband were in the Navy together. They were lifelong friends even up to their deaths. Both died at an early age unfortunately. We always enjoy spending time with Charlotte, but it was apparent to us over the phone, that she is failing. Each winter seems to be harder and harder on her. This is probably her last Winter in fact. So sad. Now I’m really depressed.

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And it snowed, and snowed, and snowed. And the band played on. I swear I feel like I’m on the Titanic and rapidly going down. People don’t get in a house buying mood in the snow and the snows just won’t seem to stop. Last night the hubster and I went to our favorite Cajun joint for Gumbo and Etouffee. When we came out our car was covered with snow, again. This stuff won’t stop.


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As if the snow wasn’t making it hard enough to sell our house, we have the neighbors. Yesterday we had another showing. The hubster and I were parked on Vali Drive again, at our vantage point where we could see the house and see how long they stayed in the house. When I saw the couple get out of their car I instantly knew they were the ones. I knew she would love the kitchen and he would love the workshop. I knew they would stay in the house a long time and I knew they would be making an offer. I don’t know how I knew, I just knew. I don’t get those feelings often, but when I do they are usually right. They did stay in the house for 31 minutes. And they were the only buyers that ever turned off all the lights. That, in my mind, gave them a vested interest in the house. It meant that in their sub-conscious they had already taken ownership of the house. Then we got the feedback from their visit. I’ll paste the actual feedback below;

My client likes the home and asked me to place on their list of potentials. The interior of the homes shows very well, pass along my compliments to the owner. The neighborhood had less appeal with the home across the street with two very barking dogs that wanted to come over the fence at us...Also nice job on the special feature signs. Hope to show a second time in the coming weeks.

See, we’ll never get rid of this house. Barking dogs SUCK and so do low class trashy neighbors! It seems that all the feedback we get isn’t about the house, it’s about the neighbors. This sucks. The hubster is moving to Maryland next week and I’ll be stuck in this house waiting for it to sell, for the rest of my life, or until gas prices come down. Which ever comes first. And we all know gas prices aren’t coming down. Wanna buy a house?

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I am officially depressed. Shortly before my daughter went to Germany she gave me her Tracker. I guess I have subconsciously felt it was an extension of her. Yesterday I gave it to my eldest son as we didn’t want to move it to Maryland with us. As it was being driven out of our driveway tears clouded my vision. It was as if I was saying goodbye to my daughter again. I am going to miss that car. Good times, good times. I remember going with my daughter when she picked out that car. Then, on the way home, as we rode topless (the car, not us) it started hailing and she had to pull over to the side of the road and quickly try to put the top on. I taught my husband how to drive a stick shift in that car. I remember when I came back from a trip to California, my husband had bought me the cutest floor mats that had cherries on them. I remember the first warm day each spring, putting the top down and driving with the music blaring and the wind whipping through my hair. Yes, good times. The hubster has promised me we will look at buying a jeep for a second vehicle when we move, but it won’t be the same. At least we kept the Tracker in the family I suppose.

Another thing that has me down a little bit, is that we gave up our Indiana area code last night and went with a new cell phone plan that has Maryland area codes. Everything is happening so fast and the move is starting to sink in now. It’s hard to step out of the familiar into the unknown.


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When we lived in Wisconsin, it snowed everyday. I swear it did! Or it certainly seemed that way. Indiana is proving to give us the same send off. Every day we get some amount of snow. Some days we get more than others, but nonetheless we get snow. Overnight we were hit with three inches of that nasty white stuff. And more is expected for tonight. This on top of the one inch we received yesterday, on top of the stuff we already had leftover from the last snow storm. I am so ready to hit that groundhog in the head with a shovel for seeing his shadow!


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And of all days to have an appointment, of course I would have one today, thus having to leave the warm confines of my house and venture out into that nasty, vile, white stuff. The humanity of it all people, the humanity. And speaking of humanity, why do people drive like idiots in the snow? If you look closely at the picture (aka enlarge it) you will see that in typical Hoosier fashion, the roads are clear as a bell. So please tell me why these morons felt the need to drive 30MPH in a 55 MPH zone? I just don’t get it.

My friend Kate, who is in my writers group here in Indianapolis, just finished her latest film. Although she has entered several film festivals with it with excellent success, she has also put it on You Tube for everyone to enjoy. Take a look at it or click on this link. I think you'll agree that it is one powerful piece. Kate and Karmic Productions are going to go far, that's for sure. This is the movie that the hubster and I were going to cater, but thanks to the gal that crashed her car into ours a week before production, we weren't able to be a part of it. She'd better call us for the next movie!



Be sure to go to her website and check out her other two movies, Laundry Day and Loss.

My valentines day started off with being awoken at 7am to hear the sound of the husband cussing after he hit his leg on a corner of an end table while he tried to sneak out the front door to go to the store to buy me something. Ever the planner, that man. Nothing like thinking ahead. When I got out of the shower he was home (I take long showers) and surfing the internet. I go in the kitchen to get a cup of coffee and there I see a vase with three roses and a small mylar balloon which says “I love you”. Sweet, I admit. But two of the roses were half dead. I thanked him and like an ungrateful fish wife, I asked “did you realize two of the roses are dead?” I was blasted, very loudly, with “excuse me for not realizing everything would be picked over. I’m sorry but it was all they had, okay?” he screamed at me. That pretty much killed Valentines Day for me. Yes, I shouldn’t have mentioned that two of the roses were dead. But he shouldn’t have yelled at me. It took away what ever meaning the roses might have had and turned the gift into an obligation. No one wants their gift to be an obligation. Things kind of went downhill from there pretty much the entire day. I was disappointed that the man who used to plan elaborate romantic valentine day surprises and activities was reduced to running out to buy me dead roses at the last minute. Valentines Day always had special meaning for us because… well for many reasons I won’t go into. But also because we were engaged on valentines day. Now it’s been reduced to an obligation. How very sad.


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I suggested we go to the Indianapolis Museum of Art and spend the day drinking in the beauty of Van Gough, Renoir, Rembrandt and Monet, just to name a few. So off we went. I had been there before but this was the hubster’s first time at IMA. They have a wonderful restaurant there called Wolfgang’s. Yes, Wolfgang Pucks. They have the best burgers in this world. Paired with a vodka martini (with Gray Goose of course) it is the absolutely best meal on the planet when you are spending the day looking at world renowned art. At lunch, over my martini and the husbands bourbon, I gave him his valentines day present. A gift certificate for a one hour full body massage, to be redeemed the next day at 10:30am. I also gave him a book he has been wanting and a nice card. I kept waiting for a card or something more than dead roses, but nothing. Oh well. But, I got to see my favorite art piece, a funerary monument of Flavius from 100AD. I got to see my beloved Monet’s and Renoir’s. It should have been a perfect day. Okay, crappy day aside, I do admit that we had a wonderful time at the art museum. But the drive home killed any fun we may have had. On the drive home we kept hearing a squeaky sound from the back seat where the seat belt was tapping against the leather seat. In the middle of rush hour traffic on Meridian Street I hang my torso into the back to adjust the shoulder belt so it won’t tap against the seat and somehow managed to hit the seat release, which caused the back seat to spring forward, slapping me in the face so hard that it broke my glasses and almost broke my nose. So there we are, driving in bumper to bumper rush hour traffic with me holding my nose while tears stream down my face and the hubster screaming at me “What happened, what’s wrong?” Yes, people were staring. I am sure, had I been able to see, I would have been embarrassed. We made a quick stop at home to grab an ice pack, then went to the eyeglass store to have my glasses fixed.

After my glasses were fixed we picked up some lamb chops and a movie. Then we went home where I ended up cooking dinner and washing dishes on valentines day. Not cool guys, not cool at all. It’s a well known fact in our household that I do not cook on valentines day nor do I do dishes. After my domestic chores we watched the video we rented and then get ready to go to bed. Then the hubster gives me the card he had bought me that morning. I asked why he waited so long to give it and he replied that it never seemed like the perfect moment. So you wait until midnight? A very disappointing valentines day. His heart just wasn’t in it and it showed. I know he was stressed because Feb 13th was his last day at his job here in Indiana but that’s no reason to flub on valentines day. It really hurt my feelings and frankly it’s a valentines day that we will never get back.



And speaking of the husbands job, he bought his plane ticket today for Maryland. He will be leaving in 2 weeks to start his new job in Maryland while I sit here by myself with a dying dog waiting for someone to buy our house. By the time I get to Maryland his family will have already picked out our new house and decorated it. I really hope we haven’t done the wrong thing by moving back to Maryland. It’s a big concern. His family likes to be deeply rooted in all that the hubster does and it can be over whelming at times. We did talk about this tonight and he agrees that he needs to set boundaries with them. Don’t get me wrong, I love his family, I truly do. But when you’ve lived 700 miles away for the last fourteen years, it’s going to be hard to share the same sandbox if you know what I mean. So part of me is happy to be here while he goes through the overwhelming attack of family love when he first moves back to Maryland, while another part of me is quite sad to not be a part of that. Mixed feelings. That’s why they have Xanax though, right?!

Just to let you know, Valentines Day really blows and next year I am boycotting it. I would elaborate on my discontentment but a certain unromantic person (who buys dead roses and refuses to return them for live ones) keeps hanging over my shoulder to see what I am typing. And they say women are nosy. Hah!

Happy flipping Valentines Day...or not.

Even though we haven’t officially sold our current house in Indiana yet, we already have a real estate agent in Maryland working for us as of this morning. I had forgotten how life in small towns work. The hubster’s new boss gave me the name of a real estate agent that he has used in the last four homes he has purchased. He didn’t have her phone number or email address on him at the time though. Meanwhile, I finished a brilliant story for publication in my new writers groups anthology. (If you will recall I’ve already joined a writers group in Maryland). The president (a swell emailer) emailed my story to the rest of the group for critique, as is the custom. Being a nosy person writer I looked at the details of the email to see who all of the writing group members were. Who should be the last name on the list but the real estate agent that the hubsters new boss had recommended. It gets better though. When my brother in law was here this past weekend I was telling him the story of the real estate agent being in my new writers group. He knows her too! In fact, his 2nd wife took real estate classes from this gal. What a small world town. I had forgotten what it was like to live in a town where everyone knows everyone else and everybody knows all of your business. Okay, I’m officially scared. But at least I have a real estate agent finding me a house in MD. Although, in looking through the comments from Dorothy, (who lives in the same general area I’ll be moving to) I think I want to use her real estate agent because she has a bay view at her new place! I was complaining to the hubster that I too want a house on Assateague Island and he said one word that shut me up immediately on that subject. Mosquitoes. Oh yes, the mosquitoes. I had forgotten that on Assateague Island the mosquitoes are known to pick up small children and fly away with them. And that’s just the small mosquitoes. You can imagine the damage the big ones do. But still…a house on Assateague! Sigh...

A light bulb went off in my head today. Actually It was Sam’s fault. I went on her photo blog page this afternoon and a brilliant idea hit me. (Don’t worry, it didn’t leave a scar.) I have decided that when we move to Maryland (soon) I am going to start a photo blog page! I know, it’s exciting, isn’t it? Wasn’t that worth getting out of bed for? Did you know I used to be a semi-amateur freelance photographer? It’s true. I had 14 pictures on the front page of my hometown newspaper in 1992 – 1993. I would scan in a few copies of the newspaper my pictures (and photo credits) were on, but my scanner has long since been packed up and now is sitting in the storage shed in our back yard awaiting the move.


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One of the great things about the area of Maryland that we are moving to are the wildlife refuges they have there and the abundance of wildlife, both winged and four legged varieties. In a way I am getting anxious to start our new lives there. In another way...well...

Although, if you were a certain real estate agent, I would tell you that I would rather have this house sit empty than let you sell it. We had a showing at 2pm today. It was a scam. It was a no named real estate agent trying to drum up business. He left several of his business cards on our kitchen counter to try and steal our business from our current agent and (here is what really pissed me off) he tracked mud and leaves all over our new carpet and freshly scrubbed kitchen floor. Just left huge clods of mud and leaves there. Also, I keep a candy dish of miniature candy bars on the kitchen island. That rude ass ate every frigging candy bar out of the candy dish (a full bag) except for 2 miniature Mr. Goodbars. And you know what he did to add insult to injury? He left the candy wrappers all over the kitchen. What a rude jackass. I am still ticked off about it. I called my real estate agent and complained about it. She is going to put in the agent notes that people have t take off their shoes in our foyer from now on. I’d like to find out where Mr. Rude lives so I can go through his house throwing candy paper all over and tracking mud on the floors. Gggrrrrrr...

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There is a saying in Indiana, if you don’t like the weather, wait a minute, it will change. There is also another saying around these parts; if you don’t like the weather wait a minute and Ernestine will send the snows she is getting in Chicago to Indiana. Well I guess that is a good thing, because now the house isn’t flooded underneath anymore as all the standing water is frozen. There is the problem of residual damp mildew smell though. I’m a smart sort of cookie though, so after I got the call last night that someone wanted to show the house today at 3pm, I sped off to the Meijer and bought an odor eater candle, along with a can of febreez air freshener and every other thing I could think of to arm my aerosol against smelly smells. Doesn’t help much when you forget to spray the febreez, but at least I remembered to burn the odor eater candle for several hours before the showing. And in the kitchen I sort of took Ernestine’s advice but I twisted it a little. Instead of making chocolate chip cookies, I burned a chocolate candle (yummy!) and had a dish of assorted mini chocolate bars sitting out. Must not have worked though because they only stayed in the house ten minutes and they didn’t bother taking a brochure, disclosure statement or even one of the interactive CDs I had set out. The creepy part was when they left. I have a certain area of a nearby street in which I can sit and see our house. (my daughter knows exactly where I am talking about as she had a stalker boyfriend that used to sit there in his jeep and spy on her after they broke up). So there I am sitting, watching with interest as they get in their car and drive off. Suddenly they veered off the main street and turned down the side street I was sitting on and drove right by me! And the really embarrassing part? They slowed down as they passed my vehicle and looked right at me, eye to eye. It was pretty obvious they knew I was watching them the whole time. My cheeks are still burning. We have another showing tomorrow and one on Saturday. Maybe I shouldn’t stalk my house, eh?

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There is a phenomenon here in the Midwest that arrives every late winter/early spring. It’s called the Monsoons. They arrived yesterday afternoon just like clockwork. You can pretty much count on them to be present at least several times a week for the next couple of months. So what’s a shit-load little bit of rain, thunder, lightening, straight line winds and tornados? Other than the fact that people don’t like to house hunt in them, what could be the harm? The harm is the mold smell in my house when it floods underneath due to the rain falling at one inch an hour all night and day. I came back from an errand this morning and the smell almost knocked me down. Seriously, it would make your eyes water. We are so screwed. I’d better get used to living here in the house by myself because I’m going to be stuck here for quite awhile.

You know though, I guess our front door mat isn’t helping us getting any house sales either.

I feel like my life is on hold because of this house crap. The hubster said he feels the same way. But he gets to move to Maryland at the end of the month. I will be stuck here…alone. It’s depressing to even contemplate. We can’t leave the house by itself though; there are just too many things that could go wrong. Not to mention how we won’t be able to afford to buy a new house until this one sells, therefore the hubster will be moving in with his brother. On one hand I am angry that the hubster took it upon himself to start this job-hunting process so soon, and subsequently the offered position, which he accepted. On the other hand I wish we had done it a couple of years ago when the market was hotter. Either way, it does no good to reflect on what could have been or should have been. I will say this, whom ever is doing that rain dance here in the Midwest, could you please stop?

I’ve joined a writers group in the town we will be living at in Maryland. Actually I have been conversing with the president all winter long, even part of the fall. I even went as far as to submit a story for the anthology they are publishing. However, I’ve promised them that I would be at the meeting in Mid-March. Doesn’t look like that will happen unless we have a miracle and the house sells. My sister in law keeps telling me that the house will be selling on February 19th. That is going to be a very anxious day for me. I know I will be sitting by the phone waiting for a call that will probably never come. I am so optimistic today.



In the midst of all the crap with the house and subsequent depression over it, there is a bright shining light in my life. My insurance pays for my chiropractic treatment for my back. No shocker there. But there is a massage therapist at the chiropractor that I go to and thrill upon thrill, my insurance pays for that too! So I have been getting an hour long full body massage once a week. It’s shear heaven! If you have never had a good massage I highly recommend it. After a massage I am so mellow and relaxed for the rest of the day. You could knock me down and snatch my purse and I would just smile and say “have a blessed day”. (don’t try to knock me down and snatch my purse though) Becky is my massage therapist’s name and she has fingers that should be insured with Lloyds of London. She is better than any Xanax or pain pill. If doctors prescribed massages instead of Xanax and valium no one would ever need to take those drugs. I was a little nervous at first. You have to take all of your clothes off, except your panties. Actually she said you can take off your panties but if you prefer to leave them on that is okay. I prefer to leave mine on. I’m shy that way. I even wear them in the shower sometimes. (no, not really).

There are other highlights in my life right now, but I have to say massages that are fully covered by your health insurance is pretty high up on the list of highlights, wouldn’t you say? Now if only I could get those monsoons to stop.

Our realtor tells us we are fortunate for having had 3 showings in 2 weeks time. She states that at this time of year that is practically unheard of. Then she gave us the feedback from the people that looked at our house. They all loved the house, even though one stated we had a dated floor plan. Then they all make the same statement; they have concerns about the neighborhood. Loosely translated that mean they are freaked out by the fact that the two boys across the street have had a mattress laid against the side of their house for the last six months…and...(you know it’s coming)...the self proclaimed faith healer neighbor. I took care of part of the situation. I gave the boys across the street a threat that I would call their landlord. That very night the mattress disappeared (to the back of their house). What do you do about the self proclaimed faith healer neighbor though? I suppose we could burn her house down, but they would leave the rubble there and that would be almost (yes, almost) as unsightly as their house. All we can do is hope and pray that someone will overlook the neighbors and buy our house soon. I tell you this, our next house will be in a better neighborhood. Who knew we would take such a loss just because of the creepy neighbors on this street. It’s a damned shame!

The hubster’s boss is an ass. When the hubster gave his two months notice, his boss was okay with it. Then he sat back and thought “I can save the money I am paying him for his salary and go out and buy a new fancy sports car.” And that is exactly what he did. He gave the hubster not quite 3 weeks notice that his last day would be Feb 13th. So it looks like the hubster will be starting the new job in Maryland sooner than we thought. I, however, will be staying here at the house until this pile of bricks is sold. It’s so depressing to even think about so I try not to. I just wish someone would hurry up and buy our house so I could move too. But with neighbors like we have, I’m screwed. Damn...