Purring in Salmon Arm

Ok, ok. I'm sure you're all sick of hearing about my time in Salmon Arm.... but I'm going to blog about it anyway. Y'all know how much I love it here with Mybarb. Just for future reference, THIS Barb is now called Mybarb. I have to differentiate because I have another wonderful friend named Barb who is now referred to as 'Copbarb', just to avoid confusion. I would love to blog about Copbarb but she would be mortified. So I won't. For now. (Mwah ha ha ha ha....).

So. This weekend is Mybarb's birthday. Barb loves her birthday. You know how some people are modest and prefer their birthday to go unnoticed? That is definitely not Barb. Right now, her status on Facebook says:

"Barb wants to remind everyone you only have 3 more shopping days til my BIRTHDAY!!!"

How could I not come help her celebrate? I'm mean really... I'm here for her, not for my own selfish reasons. Honestly.

In case you aren't completely aware of the reasons I love being in Salmon Arm with Barb, let me just tell you what the past 16 hours have been like for me.

• When I arrived, Barb had a baguette with roasted garlic and warmed brie waiting for me.
• I'm still in bed. It's 11:05 a.m.
• There is a coffee with Bailey's in it on my bedside table.
• I have laughed more in the past 16 hours than I have in the past 2 weeks

Barb and I don't buy Birthday/Christmas gifts for one another... we choose to give small, meaningful gifts throughout the year instead. But this year, I found something that just happened to be perfect and coincided with her birthday. It's the picture that you see at the top of this blog and the quote inside the frame says:

"Friendship is not a big thing.... it's a million little things."

And that's us. There have been a million little things over the past 20 years (God, has it really been that long??!!!) that have cemented this friendship and I'm grateful everyday of my life for it. The picture in the frame was taken at the end of an evening where we attended a girl party with the theme "Embrace Your Inner Whore". Yes, I'm wearing a wig. And, yes. We are both wearing false eyelashes. And really yes. We are rather drunk.

Happy, Happy Birthday Barb. I have no doubt that everyone will make you feel special on your big day, not because you're 'all that and a bag of chips'.... but because you demand it and they fear you. Love you!

Ouch. Missing my Mamma.

January 1, 2009.

This year I had a quiet New Years Eve at home and really enjoyed the solitude. But, today is a tough one.

Today is the 3rd anniversary of my Mom's death and the first anniversary of my Sweet Caroline's death. Somehow I knew that Caroline was going to pass away the same day as Mom. Just knew it in my bones.

I've been wanting to write a blog about my Mom and today seems like a good day for it. The picture above is from when I was 15. We're sitting on the front step at 'home' and I can still remember how it felt to have my arms around her. Sorry for the crappy quality... I took a photo of this picture with my cell phone so the quality is lousy, but the love is still palpable.

My Mom was amazing.

I know, I know. Everyone's Mom is amazing.... but my Mom was such a Mom. She absolutely loved being a Mom and was so good at it. She read to us and found such creative ways to make all four of her children feel like they were the center of the universe. She was gentle and sweet.... you know the Mamma Kangaroo in Winnie-the-Poo (Kanga)? She reminded me of my Mom. The picture above is of my Mom with my brother Darryl. Do you see how much she loves her baby?!! Everytime my Dad took a picture, the flash made Darryl's eyes cross and Mom just loved it. (Isn't she pretty?!) I actually submitted this picture to The Globe and Mail for a Mother's Day edition and they posted it.

My Mom taught me so much, but the greatest gift she gave me was teaching ME how to be a Mom. Nothing is more important to me than being a good Mom to my brats and nurturing them has come naturally because of her legacy.

As I mentioned before in my "Aunt Gay" post, my Mom came from a big, wonderful French family. She was the baby of eleven kids and they teased that she arrived "once the bread was buttered", after the depression.

My Mom loved to laugh and did so often. She loved food and wine and every single one of my boyfriends fell in love with her. While growing up, our house was a place where everyone was welcome and my friends loved to be there.

My Mom was diagnosed with MS before I was even born. I don't remember her being healthy, really. I always wondered why she couldn't run and somehow it just seemed normal that she needed to rest every afternoon. By the time I was a teenager, she was using a walker and a wheelchair. By the time I left home, things deteriorated even further. I remember feeling a lot of anger about her disease. How could someone as sweet and kind as her end up with such a horrible fucking disease? How? In what world is that just or fair?

Mom was very, very practical. I remember learning about reincarnation in my early 20's and I really liked the concept. It made sense. I talked to Mom about it and I told her "You know, Mom.... maybe you and Dad have been together in a life before this. Maybe in this life, he needed to learn some lessons about being unselfish and having to care for another person. Maybe you chose this disease to help him discover that within himself." Mom took a second to think about it then said "I'd like to think I would have found another way." Touche Mamma.

I miss her today. I miss her so much but I wouldn't wish her back. At the end of her life, she was tube fed, catherterized and I could barely understand what she was saying. She lived in that state for the last 3 or 4 years of her life. She was so, so tired when she finally left us yet I never once heard her complain. This is not an exaggeration. Never once.

"How are you doing, Mom?"

The answer was always, ALWAYS "Great!" with a big smile. Even when this woman could not scratch her own nose if it was itchy, she would tell me that she was 'Great!'.

My Mom was so loved. She lived long enough to meet all of her grandchildren. She had so much in this life and I know she was grateful for all of it, but man.... I just really, really miss her.

To the right is a picture of Mom with my niece, Megan that was taken about 10 years ago; as you can clearly see, Mom delighted in being a Grandma. In this picture, Mom is in her wheelchair and the grandkids always loved sitting with Grandma in her chair. When Connor was 3 and Mom started having a lot of trouble with coordination in her hands, he would sit on her knee and feed her oranges. She loved oranges.... and he actually called her 'Grandma of the Oranges'. I have that on video.

I wish she was here right now so that I could ask her for advice. I wish I could hug her and smell her. I would give anything to hear her laugh again. Yes, I'm grateful that I was given such an amazing Mom, don't be me wrong. But I'm greedy. I want her back, healthy and laughing and playing with her grandkids. I want to shop with her and drink wine together and benefit from her practical wisdom. But.... that's not possible, so I will do my best to keep her memory alive and honour her legacy of love by passing it along.

Love you, Mom.

~~~~~~~~~

Marie Delvina Lillian Pelchat Barth (aka 'Lily')

August 10, 1940 - January 1, 2006

~~~~~~~~

Fun du la Fun a la Fun

In spite of my Scrooge-ish-ness, I had a lot of fun this Christmas and it was uber relaxing. Yay! Who knew it could be this way?! My brothers both arrived a few days before Christmas and since they are both teachers, they were really, really, really (did I mention 'really'?) ready for the break. If you don't think that teachers deserve the time off that they receive, then my guess is that you don't know many teachers. They earn it. They need it. But, I digress.

Brother Glen brought his gorgeous, talented, funny, smart daughter Raelee with him and his feisty, cute, funky, delightful daughter Morgan stayed home with her Mamma. Bridget was in 'girl heaven' having Rae around and Raelee doted on my Gigi like the sweet big cousin that she is. (Bridget is to the left with her two favourite things in the world: Raelee and a telephone.)

Brother Dare arrived with his dog, Eclipse and there was plenty of barking, drool and general "dog happiness" between 'Clipse and Doc. We feasted and drank and feasted and drank and pretty much left the children to their own devices during the days leading up to Christmas. It was just such a treat to relax and enjoy each other's company. On Christmas Eve we were visited by 2 sexy, tipsy elves. The menfolk were pleased with this turn of events and the elves woke Jack up on the couch. I'm pretty sure Jack still thinks he was dreaming!

Christmas morning was pretty wonderful. The kids tore into their gifts and were pleased with all that Santa brought. Connor was horrified at having to wake up at 8:30 (but was pacified after unwrapping the video game that he wanted - see photo to the left!); Jack was horrified at having to wait until 8:30 to wake us all up, especially since he'd been awake since 3:00 a.m. (No, that is not a typo). The rest of the day was spent with more laughing, eating and relaxation. Seeso arrived in the early afternoon with her husband, Corey, daughter Dani and son, Aydan. I was so, so, SO happy to see her. Chick time with my Seeso was the icing on my Christmas cake.

Dinner was set for 15 people and Karen and I had a lot of fun cooking it AND eating it with our guests. Little Dougie Robinson (a.k.a. LDR) and my dear friend Shori (with her lovely beau, Tuscon) arrived just in time to eat. Shori chose to bring a bottle of Balvenie instead of contributing to the meal. (I luvs ya, Shori!) Friends, family, children, laughter, scotch. *sigh* Happy.

However, we all know that a gathering at Suzeville wouldn't be complete without.... DANCING! Oh, and did we dance. We moved the kitchen table aside to create a dance floor, turned up the music and off we went. I had the absolute pleasure of dancing the two-step with my brother Glen (Thanks, Glennie! Love you to bits....) as well as performing a very classy interpretive dance to Perez Hilton's 'The Clap'. I am grateful beyond words for the lack of available video equipment while that was happening, let me tell you.

To the right, there are two pictures of my friends and loved ones. In the top picture, Seeso, Dani, Ted and Jesper are shakin' their collective thang. In the bottom picture, they are demonstrating their ferocious model poses and I have to say that Ted wins the prize for that category. God knows he gets enough practice..... perhaps? (But Ted!!! Where are your pantalonies??)

This was an AMAZING Christmas. Traditional? Not so much.

Does it need to be? I think not.

Friends, family, food, laughter.

Sounds like the start to a pretty good tradition to me.

Happy New Year!

Ho Ho Ho....

Now, I like Christmas. Christmas Day, that is.

I love lighting the fireplace and watching the kids tear into their gifts.... I REALLY love cooking the turkey and smelling it throughout the house all day long. I love a house full of family and friends, combined with plenty of laughter and relaxation.

I'm not crazy about the commercial bombardment that happens beforehand. I don't like Christmas music. (Bah, humbug.) I don't like the stress that accompanies family obligation or being nervous about spending a ton of money in a small space of time.

This year, my beloved sibs are coming for the holidays. I can't believe that I have a chance to see them again so soon after the BSW 2.0. (If you don't know what BSW 2.0 means, check back in the archives of my blog!) This means that there will be EXTRA laughter on Christmas Day which always makes me happy. Speaking of laughter, my friend sent me a great email about how Santa really wants to respond to the letters he receives from children. You know me by now. You know that if I'm laughing, it is likely inappropriate or politically incorrect, or both. This email is certainly 'both' and I just have to share it with y'all. Brace yourselves.

If Santa Answered His Mail Honestly.....

Deer Santa,
I wud like a kool toy space ranjur fer Xmas. I'v ben a gud boy
all yeer.
Yer Friend, Billy
Dear Billy,
Nice spelling. You're on your way to a career in lawncare. How about I send you a book so you can learn to read and spell? I'm giving your older brother the space ranger. At least HE can spell.
Santa

Dear Santa,
I have been a good girl all year, and the only thing I ask for is peace and joy in the world for everybody!
Love, Sarah
Dear Sarah,
Your parents smoked pot when they had you, didn't they?
Santa

Dear Santa,
I don't know if you can do this, but for Christmas, I'd like for my mommy and daddy to get back together. Please see what you can do.
Love, Teddy
Dear Teddy,
Look, your dad's banging the babysitter like a screen door in a hurricane. Do you think he's gonna give that up to come back to your frigid mom, who rides his ass constantly? It's time to give up that dream. Let me send you some Legos instead.
Santa
(Editorial note: Me, screaming with laughter. '....banging the babysitter like a screen door in a hurricane.'?? I'll be using this in the future. I'm just sayin'.)

Dear Santa,
I want a new bike, a Playstation 2, a train, some G.I. Joes, a dog, a drum kit, a pony and a tuba.
Love, Francis
Dear Francis,
Who names their kid "Francis" nowadays? I bet you're gay. I'll set you up with a Barbie.
Santa

Dear Santa,
I left milk and cookies for you under the tree, and I left carrots for your reindeer outside the back door.
Love, Susan
Dear Susan,
Milk gives me the shits and carrots make the deer fart in my face when riding in the sleigh. You want to do me a favor? Leave me a bottle of Scotch.
Santa
(Editorial note: A coincidence that the one involving Scotch was sent by 'Susan'? I think not.)

Dear Santa,
What do you do the other 364 days of the year? Are you busy making toys?
Your friend, Thomas
Dear Thomas,
All the toys are made in China . I have a condo in Vegas where I spend most of my time making low-budget porno films. I unwind by drinking myself silly and squeezing the asses of cocktail waitresses while losing money at the craps table. Hey, you wanted to know.
Santa

Dear Santa,
Do you see us when we're sleeping, do you really know when we're awake, like in the song?
Love, Jessica
Dear Jessica,
Are you really that gullible? Good luck in whatever you do. I'm skipping your house.
Santa

Dear Santa,
I really want a puppy this year. Please, please, please, PLEASE,
PLEASE could I have one?
Love, Timmy
Dear Timmy,
That whiney begging shit may work with your folks, but that crap doesn't work with me. You're getting a sweater again.
Santa

Dearest Santa,
We don't have a chimney in our house. How do you get into our home?
Love, Marky
Dear Mark,
First stop callling yourself "Marky", that's why you're getting your ass whipped at school. Second, you don't live in a house, you live in a low-rent apartment complex. Third, I get inside your pad just like the boogeyman does, through your bedroom window.
Sweet dreams,
Santa

So, in spite of my semi-scroogish nature, I do wish everyone a wonderful Christmas. I hope it's filled with laughter and love. I really mean that. If you're in my neck of the woods, please drop by for a cup o' Christmas cheer (a.k.a. 'booze') along with an inappropriate laugh or two.

Gay Pelchat a.k.a. 'The Infamous Aunt Gay'

In one of my recent posts, I talked about my Aunt Gay and I mentioned that I would post a future blog post about her. Well, here it is, as promised. You won't be disappointed. Anyone who knows me well has heard of "Aunty Gay". In the Pelchat Clan (my mother's side), she is a legend.

Aunty Gay is my Mom's sister. There were 11 kids in their family and all of them are/were amazing, fun-loving, smart, spirited people. There were 6 girls and 5 boys and they grew up during the depression on a farm in Saskatchewan. I remember being very small and watching with wide eyes while my Mom and her 5 sisters sat in the livingroom, laughing, talking and drinking wine. (There was always wine.... the French blood made wine an essential part of any gathering!) There was never a shortage of fun when the sisters gathered and I remember my Father staying clear of the livingroom when they visited. I think they scared him a little. To this day, whenever Pelchat women gather (and there are many of us), wine, hugs and laughter are essential. Aunt Gay has been instrumental in demanding that this tradition continue.

Aunty Gay was a feminist before the phrase was coined. She has told me that growing up on the farm made is so that gender was irrelevant to a certain degree. If work needed to be done, you simply did it. My Grandfather helped to bake bread. My Grandmother helped in the fields. During her life, I don't think that it ever occured to Aunty Gay that there was anything she couldn't do. What an empowering gift to give your daughter, especially during those times. Aunt Gay was a teacher for many years before she chose an administrative career with the school system. I always viewed her as being so very strong and capable and she was an amazing role model for me while I was growing up. I have no doubt that a large part of my rather feisty nature is because I had her to look up to in life.

I have learned SO much from Aunty Gay. I remember talking to her about 'recycling' over 20 years ago, feeling very smug and clever about the topic. She said, "Recycling? You think you invented recycling? Your generation invented garbage, not recycling." She then went on to tell me about how her Mom would sew underwear for her children out of used flour bags. If the bedsheets were wearing too thin in the center, they were cut down the middle, and then flipped and sown up again so that the thin part was now on the outside. Paper was burned. When clothing wore out beyond use, rugs were made out of the rags. They composted, gardened, and canned. Aunt Gay is still incredibly resourceful and practical.... I learn something new everytime I'm with her.

Almost every fabulous book I've read and every amazing new drink I've consumed ("Susan! Scotch and Ginger Beer with lemon!!!) was introduced to me by Aunt Gay. Aunt Gay turned 80 last May and people are stunned when I tell them how old she is. The picture above is of her at her 80th birthday celebration this past summer -- she's sitting with my brother Glen, also known as 'Aunty Gay's Favourite'. I'm just sayin'. The black and white is of Aunty Gay and my Mom. Aunty Gay is the one reading, my Mom is the kooky one with the pillow on her head. Am I a combination of these two women, or what???

I have no doubt that the reason my Aunty looks so young is a direct result of how active she is (she goes to the gym in the winter and golfs almost everyday in the summer), but I must admit that I secretly believe that it's because she never married :-))

Aunty Gay was my Mom's best friend as well as her sister. She was always there for her, no matter what Mom needed. Before Mom died, Aunty Gay was there on a regular basis to do exercises with her... to read to her and laugh with her. I would love my Aunty no matter what, but the closeness she shared with my Mom makes me love her ZILLA. When my siblings and I went to have a memorial tattoo done in honour of my Mom, Aunt Gay was right in there with us. She was 78 at the time and Charlie (our tattoo artist) declared her to be his most 'mature' client. When we walked into his shop, Charlie had a power metal station playing on his satellite radio. Aunt Gay looked at him, then calmly looked up at the speaker where the music was coming from. She looked at Charlie again and raised one eyebrow. Charlie quietly walked over and changed the station.


I absolutely adore my Aunt Gay. She is about 5'1", but her presence is formidible, make no mistake. She is the Matriarch of our clan and she is revered and loved by us all. Next time you pour a glass of wine, take a moment to quietly think of all of the amazing women who have influenced your life. I know I can't take a sip without thinking of my Aunty Gay and the amazing Pelchat women who influenced mine.

Happy Birthday to Us!!!

Connor and I just returned home from Kelowna and the "Nine Inch Nails" concert. Our birthdays are only 2 days apart so this year we decided to celebrate by enjoying something that we both love.

Screaming, loud music.

I can't believe that my firstborn is 15 years old. Ok... I have to say this. I know that I'm his Mommy and I HAVE to say it, but I'm going to anyway. He is such a nice guy. Oh, my God. He really, really is.

**If you don't want to listen to me brag about my boyo, you may want to skip the next two paragraphs. I'm just sayin'**

Connor was a completely mental toddler. At the age of 2, he rolled a pickup truck and managed to shut off the water main during Christmas Dinner. At 3, he had me in tears before 9:00 a.m. most mornings and redecorated my house with permanent felt marker. People would smile indulgently when I mentioned how busy he was.... and then they would witness it. Eyes would widen. Mouths would hang agape. After a demonstration, inevitably the question would be asked "How do you keep up with him??" At one point, I truly believed that if we could keep him out of prison, it would be a huge accomplishment and our best hope for him.

But apparently the all beatings and beration worked. Connor has turned into a very cool human being and not only do I love him to bitsies, I really, really like him. When he was blowing out his birthday candles this year, (ok, ok.... birthday candle. I forgot to buy candles so I just stuck a pillar candle in the middle of his cake.) I thought to myself "When he was born, if I could have written out a list of what I wished for in a 15 year old son, I couldn't have come up with this." (Happy Birthday Boyo.... I love you!)

Back to Nine Inch Nails. We both agreed that it was likely the best concert that either of us have ever attended and I'll tell ya why; Trent Reznor is an artist. (Trent Reznor is a HOT artist.... but I digress.) Usually at a concert like this, the lead singer spends a fair amount of time blabbing at the crowd, letting them know just how amazingly cool he is. Trent Reznor did no such thing. He simply was cool. On the drive home from the concert, Connor and I discussed feeling like we were witnessing art, not just a rock concert. It felt like Trent (yeah.... me and Trent? We're on a first name basis....) was truly an artist wanting to entertain us with his music and talent. What a concept. In fact, Trent Reznor believes in his art so much (as opposed to multi million dollar industries) that he has made his latest album, "Slip" available as a free download on the NIN website. Google it, bitches!

(A big thank you to my pal, "Dan the Dirtman" from Power 104 in Kelowna for the pro bono tix! Thanks, Dan.... best birthday present EVER!)

BSW 2.0

In October 2007, my siblings and I decided to have a weekend together -- just us. No spouses or children. It turned out to be one of the best weekends of my life.

Growing up, we were very close and we still are today. However, we all have busy lives and families and we just seem to lose touch a bit.... subsequently, the 'Barth Sibling Weekend' was born and we enjoyed the 2nd annual BSW this past October. (Yay!!) Without a doubt, this has become an annual tradition that the four of us look forward to and are fiercely protective of.

The first time we gathered, we had dinner at a place in Calgary called 'Namskar'. Oh My God. The best East Indian food imaginable. Our waiter was named 'Veer' but Karen insisted on calling him 'Vindaloo' which is actually a dish on the menu. Without a word of a lie, I have never laughed so hard in my life. Never. The entire restaurant was getting a kick out of us and the 4 of us were in tears laughing at each other. There is a flow to our communication and especially to our humour. We just feed off each other and within moments, we can't breathe because we're laughing so hard.

We returned to Namskar this year and had an incredible meal again. We talked and laughed and we had a waiter with AMAZING taste in women. That's all I have to say about that.

This year we went to 2 movies on the Sunday. God, that just felt like such a luxury! In the afternoon we saw 'Religulous' by Bill Maher which was absolutely brilliant, then that evening we saw 'Passchendaele' a Canadian war drama by Paul Gross. A friend of mine worked on the film (Yay Michele!) so I was really excited to see it. Without a doubt, it is an excellent film with a real Canadian feel to it, which I loved.

The BSW 2.0 was again, a success. When I'm with my siblings, I'm just 'Suze'. I'm not a wife, not a mother, not an employment counsellor, not a community member. I'm just..... Suze. And at least once a year, that is something that I really crave. It's good for my soul. My sibs feel the same way. When I talk about this weekend as it approches, I'm always suprised by how many people are shocked that all 4 of us are close. I take it for granted and I shouldn't. What we have is really precious and I'm grateful for it.

Dance-o-rama

I love dancing. Love it. LERVE it. Luff it with 2 'f's.

My first memory of dancing is this; standing on my Dad's feet when I was just wee and being carried around the livingroom this way, likely to Roger Whittaker or Vicki Carr or something really exciting like that. (Shut up, Tana!).

My Mom loved to dance, but I never really had a chance to see it because of her disease. By the time I was old enough to pay attention, she was already having trouble walking. When she danced with my brother at his wedding, she stood on his feet and was carried around the dance floor that way. She was delighted.

When I was young, I took jazz dance. In college, I took classic dance (waltz, rumba, cha-cha). There is no feeling in the world like being in the arms of a man who knows how to dance. At weddings, I seek out any man over 55 who can dance.... not just dance, but really dance. The feel of his right hand on the small of your back, gently directing you, guiding you across the floor. The feel of his left hand, held out, supporting yours. To be moving to the music, in unison.... it's something you can't understand unless you've experienced it. My brother Glen and I dance like this. Two step, polka, jive. There is no one I prefer to dance with in the whole wide world. (Love you, Glennie).

This past weekend I went out dancing, but it was a different kind of dancing. This was the tequila induced shake-your-money-maker kind of dancing with my girlfriends. Now understand, this is completely different from the waltzing, contained dance in the arms of a partner. This is free flow, expressive, laughing dance and is OH, so good for your soul. We danced to 'The Hip Replacements', a Tragically Hip cover band and sat down only long enough to order another shot of tequila. MyBarb drove in for the night, as did my Seeso.

Fun du la fun a la fun.

I'd like to think that if she could have, my Mom would have loved dancing with us like this. Karen and I often ponder whether or not we get our wild streak from Lily and I'm pretty sure that we do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To dance is to be out of yourself. Larger, more beautiful, more powerful. ~Agnes De Mille

Dance first. Think later. It's the natural order. ~Samuel Beckett

Socrates learned to dance when he was seventy because he felt that an essential part of himself had been neglected. ~Source Unknown

Common sense and a sense of humor are the same thing, moving at different speeds. A sense of humor is just common sense, dancing. ~William James

Giving Thanks - Laughing in Blind Bay

*sigh*

I'm in Blind Bay for Thanksgiving weekend with my beloved Barb and our families. The sun is shining, the Fall colours are amazing and I'm in heaven. The first thing Barb and I did once I arrived (literally, within 5 minutes) was grab a bottle of merlot and walk down to the lake to sit on a picnic table in the dark, just talking and laughing. (Thank you David and Len for putting up with us). What a great start to a wonderful weekend.

As I sit here, David ('Houseboy' to Barb, 'Father Nelson' to me....) is whipping up yet another amazing breakfast for us, Len is playing his guitar, the boys are playing Playstation (Guns, violence, blah, blah, blah), the girls are watching Juno ("Your eggo is preggo" LOLOLOL) and Barb and I are laughing which is what we do best. Our husbands have spent most of the weekend rolling their eyes and shaking their heads at us. While they don't understand us entirely, they do know that our friendship is sacred to us both and they support/endure/tolerate it for our sake. Thanks again, boys. We really do appreciate it.

I have much to be thankful for. I won't list all the reasons here because that seems quasi-cheezy, but it's enough to say that I'm a lucky person and I am grateful for it. Blind Bay seems the perfect place to spend Thanksgiving. Barb's Mom, Julie (a.k.a. Nana) came for dinner yesterday and it was a great day on the whole. My kids don't really have involved Grandparents in their lives, and Julie has taken my Brats in as her own Grandbrats. When I told Jack and Bridget that we were coming to Blind Bay for Thanksgiving, one of their first questions was "Is Nana going to be there?" Nana is one more reason that I'm grateful to have Barb in my life.

The upcoming week is going to be batshit crazy. Literally. Breathing and sleeping will be luxuries, honestly. So.... I'm enjoying this weekend even more, knowing what the next few days will bring. Barb and I have been staying up until (at least) 3:00 a.m. each night, partly because we just aren't tired, but partly because I think we want to enjoy every minute that we can. We're like 6 year olds who don't want to go to bed because we might miss something. Last night, we watched part of Texas Chain Saw Massacre; The beginning. We almost threw up. But we also laughed (I know. What a sur-prise). Then we had so pick Sara up at a house on a dark road in the backwoods. We were convinced that a chain saw wielding maniac was going to jump out and kill us... which made us laugh even more. Sara thinks we are completely mental, but she laughs with us (at us?!!!) too. I look forward to Sara joining us in our laughter more and more as she gets older.

So, Happy Thanksgiving everyone. I hope your weekend is one full of family, laughter and many reasons to be thankful.

Yay Team!

I work with the most amazing group of people. We work hard, support each other and laugh our asses off on a daily basis.

One of my colleagues popped into my office and started laughing at me today (not an unusual occurrence, I have to admit). She pointed out that my office and the one beside mine couldn't be more different. When you walk into mine, it's high energy, coffee buzz, and usually there is heavy metal music playing. Next door, it's ylang-ylang essential oils, bamboo plants and zen. Here's the best thing; it doesn't matter. That was the next part of our conversation... we talked about how diverse our team was, but how supportive we all are of each other regardless of (because of?) those differences.

There is an amazing ebb and flow to this incredible group. We all have busy lives and families and with that of course, comes all kinds of personal successes and challenges. We have all taken our turn at trying to deal with our careers while navigating personal crises. When one of us is wounded, the others form an unspoken circle of support and we compensate for our friend in need. When one of us has a success, we all celebrate.

We got together the other night to eat appies, drink wine and watch a movie meant for 14 year old boys. We laughed til we snorted and giggled about it the next day. (S... I'm still waitin' for that crab walk, darlin'!). We work hard and we laugh hard.

So, here's to you, my work peeps. I know you all read my blog, loyal friends that you are.... Yes, here's to you -- thanks for making Monday to Friday, 8:30 - 4:30 fun, productive and challenging. Y'all keep me on my toes, make everyday fun and I love you for it! Mwah!