parents and pastries. and camera ramblings.

Every year the elementary school does a "Parents and Pastries" morning. 

This means if you show up for school an hour early with a parent and a book you all get a donut.  And a coupon for bowling at Fat Cats.

Mostly I just like being with my circus.  Especially if it encourages reading.

It's time for me to renew my phone contract and upgrade my phone.  I'm struggling with which phone I should use.  I've had, and loved, a Blackberry for the past five years.  I am most definitely not a fan of touch screen.  I want buttons.  West is a supporter of the iPhone.  He has me hooked on some of the game apps.

I think what it's going to boil down to is which phone has the best camera in it.  Sad but true.  I'm tired of sub-par pictures because I use my phone all the time.

And while we're on the subject, ever since my water camera decided not to be waterproof anymore, it's been leaving white spots in my pictures.  Despite what a kind reader said to me about it being spirits in my pictures, I assure you, it's spots inside the lense.  I can see them.  So I need a new water camera too.  Because now that I've had the ability to take my camera into the water, I don't want to stop.

Also, I want a fancy camera.  But I don't know which one.  I just know that I'm obsessed with taking pictures of my family and life, and I'd like them to, you know, actually turn out good.

So that's my to do list.  Phone with a decent enough camera, a water proof camera, and a "fancy" camera.

Is it too early to have a Christmas list going?

Ironic or hypocritical?

I'm usually a pretty passive aggressive individual.  I hate conflict.  I avoid it.  At all costs.  I get nervous and clam up at the possibility of a disagreement gone awry. Except this summer when a large family of Tongans walked all over my stuff because they decided they wanted to make some room in the shade at the local swimming pool by moving my stuff out of the way.  I became not very nice in that instant, letting them know exactly what I thought and it shocked me. 
I guess you can say I'm still being passive aggressive with this rant on my blog today, but it's my blog.  And it's where I dump my over full brain. 
So I'm getting on my soapbox, and if you know me you know this soapbox well. 
Judging just really gets under my skin and makes me grit my teeth.  Even though I've been known to do it, because it's a really hard thing not to do ever, and frankly, some things require a bit of judging.  But other things, however, do not.
I've said it before and I'm going to say it again.  Life is hard enough with out us making it harder for each other.  My favorite quote on the subject? "Be kind.  Everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle." (Marjorie Hinckley).
Let's talk about gay rights shall we? Well, no, probably not right now.  That's not actually what I'm getting on my soapbox for, but let's just say that I have been nothing but kind and supportive to my homosexual friends in the fight to live how they feel.  It's a hard battle and I still stand by my words that just because someone lives life differently than we do doesn't mean they're wrong.
Imagine my surprise this morning to read a comment from a gay friend that put down my lifestyle. He, who fights for his lifestyle and wishes to live free of judgement, turned on mine.  Claiming that he was next to a family who had *gasp* five children under the age of five.  First of all, let's make a false claim to make the situation sound more sensational than it is because we all know that he didn't approach this family and he sure didn't ask the kids' ages.  He just claims that they're five kids under five years.  I'm sure there were five, and I'm sure they were all young, but come on now.  And even if it were so, I had four under four years.  And currently have six within five years of each other. So the next comment of his being sure that parent planning classes are available to such people (which, considering the facts that I just stated about the ages of my own circus would include me, right?) stung. 
I wonder that those who have to fight so hard to live judgement free, can turn around and dole it out with out a second thought. 
And frankly I'm only hurt because though his comments weren't aimed directly at me, they most certainly included me. And that's the thing about judgement.  I've also heard this before in the harsher debates of stay at home mom vs. working mom.  Comments will be made.  And me, on my judging soapbox which I seem to not be able to get off of, will butt in.  And then it's said, "well I didn't mean you."
And we never do.  We always mean that person over there who has the same situation as you, but I didn't mean you.
I do it.  I know I do it.  The same as you do it, and the same as my friend did it.
Ironic or hypocritical?

Lying to my children about Santa Claus

I've heard it mentioned a few different times this season... lying to our kids about Santa Claus. 

I guess I'm a little taken back by it.  I don't recall it ever being phrased in such a blatant and, well, rather harsh way.  Lying to my child about Santa.

Here's how I see it.
Santa is the spirit of giving.  Unselfishness.  Hope.  Love.  Acceptance of all.  As my children grow older and they ask the inevitable question, "Does Santa really existence?" The answer in my home is, "As long as you believe, Santa will come." Santa is in us all.  And perhaps at other times of the year we simply just call it charity.  Or service.  But come Christmas time, that wonderful time of the year, we all become a little more focused on it.  We start looking around us, and we starting giving and loving just a little bit more. 
I don't think it a terrible thing to create the magic of Santa for our children.  Because that's exactly what we're doing.  Creating magic.  And as they grow, it gives the lesson of the spirit of giving all the more substance, because they've felt it.  They know it.  And now they're a part of it too.
So am I lying to my child about Santa? No.  I'm creating memories, visions, and lessons to last a life time.  And I'm okay with doing that.  I'm also okay that my parents did that for me as a child.  And I hope that my kids will do it for theirs.
To each and every one of you, with out fear of being politically correct, or being religiously offensive, I simply say "Merry Christmas."  This wonderful time, that no matter your beliefs or orientations of life, when we can all have a common feeling of "good will towards men."

Dead body stench? No problem.

Yesterday I had lunch with four investigators, two lawyers, and a paralegal. I now know how to get rid of (or deal with?) the stench of a dead body that has been there for a few days... you know, something every girl should know.
Everyday I'm fascinated with the path my life is now turned to. And I know I've only been working with the AG's office for three weeks now, but already I'm trying to decide which direction I should move with it. I'm definitely staying with it. The stories are fascinating. The cases pull me in. The people I work with are incredible. I might aim to replace our paralegal when she retires. Maybe I'll go through training to become one of the investigators. Maybe I'll do both!
It's amazing to be a part of it. It's amazing to see how good life can be. It's amazing to see, continually, how far my life has come. And I'm not even done with it yet.

One last time

Have you ever done that? "I'm waking up at 5 a.m. for the last time. I've cut my last check. I'm logging out of this system for the last time. I'm clocking out for the last time. I'm driving this commute for the last time..."

But I haven't said good bye to my friends at Burt Brothers for the last time. They can't get rid of me that easily.

Ron Burt (owner) told me he wouldn't say this for just anyone, but he's leaving the door open for me. If I need to come back, he'll find a way for me to do it.

I don't think I'll be needing to go back though. I'm going to rock it at the AG's office.

Still, when he said he doesn't usually miss his employees, but he was sure going to miss me, it brought tears to my eyes. Maybe I don't want to admit it, but I'm going to miss them too.

How sweet was Chance the receptionist to give me this?

I loved lunch with Tina and Kelcey (thanks Wendel!). And I may or may not have shed a tear or 50 with Tina when she gave me a card with a wonderful note in it.

The thing is, I have walls. I know I have walls. And I know why I have those walls. We won't get in to that right now. But once I finally let someone in, they are a part of my life forever. I am fiercely loyal and forever grateful that they are there for me. Tina is one of these people. I may or may not miss her, actually, I'm leaning towards may not. Because I'm going to email her everyday and I'm pretty sure we're just going to have to hang out now that we can't be at work together. You get kind of attached to someone after spending most of your time with them for the past four years.

Anxiety or Adventure. Either way, I'm taking it on.

I have to admit, I'm having large amounts of anxiety over the changes in my life right now. All of which I have voluntarily taken on, which doesn't help the anxiety. Because if it wasn't the right thing to do with my life, then I have no one to blame but myself.

I actually have a good, stable job. It pays my bills, it's steady, and I can do it well. Granted I have to drive 40-45 min in my commute, granted I get annoyed with how things and people are treated and handled, granted I have had to fight for every increase I've ever received there, but they've been good to me. I have received those increases. They give me flexibility when I need it for my circus. And I've been doing it for almost 4 years now, so it is very much my comfort zone now.

And they don't want me to leave. I have been offered more money, more vacation time, more flexibility to move around and work in the stores for variety and training (I'd asked for that at one time and was told no), and I've been offered an assistant. An assistant. Really? I'm hearing with every phone call that the store managers don't want me to leave, the owners don't want me to leave, the controller doesn't want me to leave (his #1 candidate to replace me is at the top of the list because she reminds him so much of me. He said her animation and her conversation was just so similar to me, and they need more of me around this place. How's that for a compliment?), and even our outsourced HR guy doesn't want me to leave. Our IT guy told me how the owner really likes me and... doesn't want me to leave.

I have to admit that the sound of the money almost had me. Almost. But then I remember why I'm doing it. I'm not done proving myself to life yet. I am in with the state. And who knows where I can take it?

And that's just it. I know what I'm being offered at Burt Brothers to stay. And it's not at all shabby. What I'll be able to do with the State is yet to be determined. And it's really hard for me to walk away from something so certain to go to something that isn't.

Getting a job right now is still kind of hard. And getting a job with the state is even harder still. I hit a point in the application process where I knew I wasn't going to be allowed to go any farther. I had to pass a typing test with 60 wpm and I didn't do it. I can type. When I'm good and warmed up I can flow at 67 wpm. But that day... oh that day, I couldn't type to save my life and I couldn't not reach their requirement of 60 wpm. I knew I was out of the running. And yet...

It has come together for me when it shouldn't have. And maybe when things come together so easily like it was meant to be, then maybe it was meant to be. And despite the uncertainty, it feels good. I'm excited to go in and prove my worth to them. And hopefully stumble into something that I really enjoy.

Hopefully the anxiety will subside once I get going there. I hope to go somewhere with it. It's time for the new adventure.

The Help

According to my kindle, I'm 87% of the way through this book. And I love it. I love the characters, I'm drawn into the feelings and situations, and I'm not getting anywhere near enough sleep this week while I'm reading it. I want to finish it before I make West take me to the movie on Saturday. I can't wait :). Haven't read it yet? Maybe you should.

This Side Down

I saw this while I was driving to work this morning:And I laughed. I actually laughed right out loud. Really? Someone has a quirky sense of humor... but then I started thinking... which led to googling...

Which left to me to think that maybe those signs are needed more than we realize.

It's not just riding, swimming, or watching movies

Have you heard this song yet? I heard it for the first time yesterday and it just gave me that "warm fuzzy feeling" about being a family. The simple days at the water park. Or on the four wheelers. Or on the boat. Or eating pizza and ice cream at home with a movie. Because we're not just riding or swimming or watching movies. It's so much more than that...
"She Thinks We're Just Fishin'" Trace Adkins
I’m lost in her there holdin’ that pink rod and reel
She’s doin’ almost everything but sittin’ still
Talkin’ ‘bout her ballet shoes and training wheels
And her kittens
And she thinks we’re just fishin’

I say, “Daddy loves you, baby” one more time
She says, “I know. I think I got a bite.”
And all this laughin’, cryin, smilin’ dyin’ here inside’s
What I call, livin’

And she thinks we’re just fishin’ on the riverside
Throwin’ back what we could fry
Drownin’ worms and killin’ time
Nothin’ too ambitious
She ain’t even thinkin’ ‘bout
What’s really goin’ on right now
But I guarantee this memory’s a big’in
And she thinks we’re just fishin’

She’s already pretty, like her mama is
Gonna drive the boys all crazy
Give her daddy fits
And I better do this every chance I get
‘Cause time is tickin’
(Yeah it is)

And she thinks we’re just fishin’ on the riverside
Throwin’ back what we could fry
Drownin’ worms and killin’ time
Nothin’ too ambitious
She ain’t even thinkin’ ‘bout
What’s really goin’ on right now
But I guarantee this memory’s a big’in
And she thinks we’re just fishin’

She ain’t even thinkin’ ‘bout
What’s really goin’ on right now
But I guarantee this memory’s a big’in
And she thinks we’re just fishin’
Yeah, aww, she thinks we’re just fishin’
We ain’t only fishin’
(This ain’t about fishin’)

To my family, with love, the Black Sheep

I have some pretty amazing family. Siblings and cousins alike who think green and eat raw and organic. And I'm talking from eating kale and green smoothies, to only eating salads that were completely grown in their back yard to making organic soaps and cleaners (and successfully having a business based off of it. Check it out here). Where do I fit in the family? Well, here for starters:

>And as far as yoga, and running marathons, pilates and zumba, and biking just give me a pair of these. They're a good calf work out, no?

Maybe I should be using my sister's organic sunblock, but when I see these pictures all I can think about is how much I look like a glow stick next to the man. I seriously glow next to him!

And I'm one for torturing myself with sleep deprivation for a good book.

But really, when else is a full time working mother of six supposed to find the time to read that book that is just calling my name?

So dear family,

Thank you. Thank you for being healthy and environmentally aware. Thank you for loving me and trying to teach me your ways. I love the organic hair moisturizer, and I love the peanut butter banana smoothie made from soy milk. I do yoga when I get a minute. And I will forever carry a guilty conscience which forces me to recycle. But mostly, thanks for loving me despite my ways.

Lot's of love,

the Black Sheep

My bucket list for the "end of the world"

Did you hear? The end of the world is tomorrow. Didn't this guy predict the end of the world to be back in '88 too? You have to admit, he has persistence doesn't he. Maybe this time it will work out for him. Apparently it's supposed to happen at 6 p.m. all around the world. So in... about 5 hours we'll be able to see what's happening in Australia. Do I believe in all of this. Absolutely not. But for the sake of the spirit of things, here's my bucket list. Hopefully I'll have more than a day to accomplish these things.

In no particular order, and I'm sure I'll think of more as time goes by but...

1. Live in Ireland for a year or two
2. Go Scuba diving in the Great Barrier Reef in Australia
3. Finally get that oil painting I painted back in high school framed and on the wall
4. Meet the members of Nickelback
5. Get around to having that awesome wedding on the beach (even if, at this point, it's a renewal of vows)
6. Take the circus to Disneyworld
7. Be a published author on the New York Time's Best Seller's List
8. Scuba dive a ship wreck
9. See the Eiffel Tower
10. See "Wicked" on Broadway with Kristen Chenoweth
11. Visit London
12. Become fluent in sign language
13. Work with penguins, even for just a day
14. Learn how to surf
15. Volunteer for the Make a Wish foundation
16. Go to Hawaii
17. Have one more day of sailing with my dad
18. Watch the running of the bulls (safely from a balcony)
19. Watch Mardi Gras (safely from a balcony ha)
20. Sky dive
21. Learn to dance with my man
22. Finish the full remodel on our house
23. See the Sistine Chapel

And along the same lines...

Learning the nitty gritty of breast caner... or the BRCA gene

Usually I prefer light and fluffy for the blog. For my facebook. And twitter. Everyone once in awhile I vent a little, let a little steam off, but for the most part, my "battles", my honest issues, are not put out to the public eye. Except this one. Because I think it's something we can all relate to in one way or another. Even if we've never had breast cancer (or any battle with cancer for that matter) we probably know someone personally in our life who had. Or is. So here's my story with it.
My mom had breast cancer at the age of 38. That's two years BEFORE the recommended age of 40 for getting a mammogram. My mom was adopted. There is no other medical history for me, than her. So the question is left hanging on whether or not this is a hereditary issue, or a random issue.
I just had my yearly with my OB-GYN, and after reviewing my cancer history that I had filled out on my chart, and the lack of history there on, he had some concerns. I'll have to admit, I was a little confused by his worries, but I trust him completely so I followed his lead. I have since done a little reading on the BRCA gene(s), but have only gotten as far as reading this website on the topic: http://www.cancer.gov/cancertopics/factsheet/Risk/BRCA. In a nutshell, this is what I understand of it, and more importantly, for this blog, what it means to me particularly. There are two genes that, if they have alterations, can lead to either breast or ovarian cancer. Usually, when a gene mutates, it has a second one. So if this gene already has a mutation, and the other one mutates, wa-lah, no back up. Cancer. The risk of those with these genes receiving cancer is high. And a sign of the gene can be that it causes cancer earlier on. Hence my mom having breast cancer at 38. That was a red flag for my doctor, and then not having any additional history... well, he's wanting to play it safe. Because, as he explained it, once he, as a doctor, detects ovarian cancer, it's already too late. It's a death sentence. Prevention is on his mind. So with my mom's history, and with the twist of the adoption and not having access to any farther history, I should be a candidate for insurance to help cover the hefty fee for the BRCA (BReast CAncer) gene. Which, for my test (it varies, I don't know why) is a whopping $3,340.00 out of pocket.

My insurance has denied coverage on this, saying they require two generations of cancer history for it to be a concern. I understand this. But our concern is... we don't have it. So my doctor is appealing.

Another method of prevention is breast MRI's. Apparently they catch more detail, quicker. And also, being young, my breasts are dense. And being thin, I don't have fat boobs and since fat is see through, and I don't have any in my boobs (is this a nice way to say I have SMALL boobs? LOL), my boobs are rather dense and can be hard to see through with a mammogram. My mom had cancer at 38, I'm now 32. My doctor doesn't want to take any chances.

Tomorrow is my first MRI. I get to do this yearly, with bi-yearly breast exams at my doctor's office. I'm not nervous or worried. I don't expect that anything will be found. I'm not even paranoid, but I feel it's a lot like flossing. Prevention now, can possibly save me a lot of pain later.

I plan on reading up more on the BRCA gene(s). I still feel I don't really have a firm grasp on this.

And maybe, just maybe, some of you might have some information that I don't know yet. Or I can share with you. That's what blogging is for, right?

So here's to prevention. And to hoping the appeal goes through to my insurance. To know, or not to know, it's a very good question.

California Dreamin' on such a Winter's Day... day 5... Knott's Berry Farm

I love vacationing with my family. I love that we get to see new places and try new things and that we get to do it together. I love the peace of being together (most of the time. This statement doesn't hold true when they're arguing over DS games in the car). This is my family. Lately I've struggled with my place in life. Doing too much. Not doing enough. Doing the right things or just doing the things to get by. When does chasing dreams become delusional over realistic? What it all boils down to is my family is my best accomplishment. If I succeed in nothing else in my life, I have them. "No success can compensate for failure in the home." This is my place. And I love it.

Confession: I am one over worked woman.

I wear a lot of hats. Except I don't like hats, I much prefer shoes. But I guess you can't wear a lot of shoes at one time like you technically can with hats?
I work full time in accounting (I'm not actually a fan of numbers... I much prefer words).
I have six kids.
I have a husband.
I have a long commute.
I bake and decorate cakes.
I blog, and am trying to network with it to find a solid reading base, while being a solid reader.
I'm in a bunco group.
I do the grocery shopping.
I do the cooking.
I do the cleaning, or the monitoring of the cleaning.
I teach 3 year olds in church.
I'm the leader for girls camp.
Which means meetings. And planning. And preparing.
I'm making the sister's wedding cake.
I plan birthdays. All six of them.
I plan holidays.
I track homework.
I pay my half of the bills.
I'm a landlord.
I buy "stuff" (Mom, My teacher SAID) for the classrooms. Times 6.
I deal with the ex (who, to his credit has been much nicer to deal with lately).
I travel 3 hours round trip to take the girls to their dad for his every other weekend.
And now we're adding camping to the warm weather season.
I'm overwhelmed.
Something has to go.
Actually, I think lots of somethings have to go.
I need a break before I completely lose it.
It's time to simplify.

Dentist Debacle

It had been 6 years since my last dentist visit. I finally broke down last year and went. During the length of the cleaning and exam I found myself grasping the arms of the chair and pressing my head back against the pillow in pain. We chalked it up to the fact that I was currently whitening my teeth with over the counter products, which apparently makes them SUPER sensitive. The dentist found two small cavities that weren't big enough to fill.
I didn't go back after 6 months, but I did make it back after 8. I haven't touched the whitening trays for the 8 months so I know that wasn't an issue this round. And I'm pretty sure you shouldn't leave the dentist after a routine cleaning (where he even exclaims repeatedly that my teeth are so clean, his easiest cleaning of the week) with tears in my eyes from pain. It was brutal. I'm pretty sure they were trying to floss not only my teeth, but the roots too. I left with a sore on my lip because the buffer tool was left spinning on my lip. Every tool that went in and out of my mouth banged against teeth and pinched lips. To sound like my kids, it hurt. Badly. And those dang small cavities were still there. So I got to go back for fillings where the dentist thrust 4 shots into the same place, which locked my jaw and kept it from opening. I kid you not. I literally could not open my jaw. He even put fingers in my mouth and tried to push it open. (Is that typical dentist protocol?). It did eventually pop (more "owie") and he got it finished.
And now I have a tooth ache which throbs clear down to my jaw bone. I'm a little confused, my tooth didn't hurt BEFORE the filling, but it now huts after. Not constantly, but most certainly reoccurring. And I do not want to go back to the dentist and tell him he ruined my mouth. For the first time in my life, I'm afraid of the dentist.
Do you think you can put up with a reoccurring toothache for life? I might try it.

GREEN

I'm showing how GREEN and clueless I am when it comes to connecting on my blog. For those who found me through blog hops and didn't find a GFC (let me tell you how long it took me to even figure out what that meant!), I now have one. If you follow me, I'll follow you. So to everyone stopping by, THANK YOU. And welcome.
And in the name of growing in the knowledge of blogging, please check out my give away for "How To Increase Your Blog Traffic" by Cindy at Busy Mom's Tips. I can tell you, only two days after reading and applying her tips, my traffic is obviously growing. I can't thank her enough for it. So go enter, I get to give a copy of it away :).

How to Succeed in renting out your unsellable house

I should almost feel guilty about how this all came to be. Almost.

My current renters gave their 30 day notice. They finally closed on the one they had been waiting for. Exciting for them, *groans* for me. Now I have to start the drudgery of showing the house, evening after evening for the next two months or so, until someone else rents it. I really want good renters. I need someone to take care of the yard, spring is upon us (sort of, this is Utah after all. I'm pretty certain we had pouring snow (yes, pouring snow) and brilliant sunshine all in the same half hour) and I live 35 minutes away from that yard that will soon need constant watering and mowing. So I placed an add on ksl. And five phone calls later I realize that I can't keep bothering my current renters with showing prospect renters through every night. So I decide to tell them all the same day and time and host it as a renter's "open house". That way everyone who would like can come and see it, and I'm only bugging my fabulous renters once. I set it a few days away and... end up with 8 appointments. Benefit #1 of doing it this way. Only 6 actually showed up. I didn't actually have to get frustrated with being stood up by the missing 2 appointments. Benefit #2 of doing it this way. Mob mentality. People start panicking at the obvious interest of others. I had three people offering me deposit checks on the spot. They wanted it, before any of the others. I almost feel bad. They didn't even have time to consider if they really wanted to deal with the 90 degree angled driveway.

But on the flip side... the house is rented and the current renters aren't even packed to move out yet.

Smelling like a dad

Most dad's have a job where they come home with a particular smell that will remind their children of them for the rest of time. Well, maybe not most, but some I guess. The receptionist at work loves the smell of oil, as her dad is our Valvoline rep. I didn't grow up with my birth dad, and my step dad was a firefighter so I don't have the smell factor for my dads, but I know West comes home smelling like sawdust. Aside from the time of day (or rather night) when my head hits my pillow for the night (oh sweet bliss), coming home from work is my favorite time of the day. Home. Husband. Circus. Heaven. My circus runs to me yelling "MOM!" and they wrap their arms around me and I hope they never grow out of this. And then they take a deep breath. This part I hope they DO grow out of. "I love the smell of tires Mom, it reminds me of you." *sigh* I do accounting. But I do it for Burt Brothers Tires. And I do it in their warehouse. You know, that great big giant building where they store all the tires for the stores. Mom's aren't supposed to smell like tires. Maybe I should get a job at a craft store, at least then I can come home smelling like cinnamon pine cones.

Day 13-What's in my purse? Do we dare go there?

Well, I guess for the sake of this project, now would be a good time to clean my purse out. And in the mean time tell you what was in it. Why? I don't know, the list just told me to. OK, so now that it's all dumped out all over the floor...
I have two hard glasses cases (but no glasses... hmmm...)
My black, fake alligator skin wallet with buckles
A small notebook to take notes in when I'm in church or meetings or classes (it makes me pay attention)
A bright green floating wrist band for my water proof camera and the rubber cover for the water proof camera (no camera, which is very unusual, it's out from Cas's birthday party and now needs charging)
"The Secret" by Rhonda Byrne on CD (borrowed from a neighbor and ONE day I'll return it when I see him, so it resides in my purse for such occasion. Of course I see him a lot, and yet here's this little box of CDs, in my purse)
4 random receipts (that's it?)
4 shopping lists
a page of coupons for a tanning salon that I probably won't ever go to
a tube of dramamine
my sony flip video camera
gel eye drops
a pack of green trident, brand new
a coke flavored chapstick and a burt bee's chapstick
2 colored lip glosses from Bath and Body Works
a used tithing slip
2 unused tithing slips and a tithing envelope
a recipe for German Chocolate Cheesecake
4 ATM cards from opening savings accounts for the girl circus
a paint swatch for repainting the shed (Posh Red)
my checkbook with only one check left
a tire air gage (that says Burt Brothers on it, go figure)
3 paper clips
a blue pen
a nickel
a penny
12 alligator barrettes
a fingernail file
a fingernail polish (color "commander in chic")

Day 11- a photo that makes me sad

Confession. I don't have one. And I've been putting this post off long enough (I seem to be doing that a lot with this project, though I DID finally find a picture of Audrey and me for this post on the person I've been the closest with:are you proud of me?)
So to get some ideas on what makes me sad, I asked West, "what makes me sad?" Here's his ideas:
"When I say 'I love boobie's, and don't say 'I love Stephie boobies.'" That's true. That makes me sad.

That's all I have.