Weekend Wrap Up: a Murder Mystery Weekend

Here's a whopper of a weekend wrap up for you:

I did a play.

And then I did a play.

Ditto.

And now it's Monday again.

Thrilling.

Yes, for me as well.  But this amazingly complicated schedule took its toll and I was falling asleep at 7pm last night.  Sunday night.  As in the night I revive my very real fear of zombies taking over the world.

So I woke myself up by diving into a very exciting pile of laundry until my show started at 9pm.

For the record, I am not happy about Dale's departure, however if he had to go the show's creators could have at least let him become a zombie and take Shane out with him.

I'm just sayin'.
...

But what was I really saying?

Yes, weekend show....yes.

Here is the synopsis of Murder at the TonyLou Awards (and my life for the past 7 weeks):

• guests arrive for cocktail hour
• celebrities arrive on red carpet
• interviews
• "who are you wearing?"
• dinner
• mingle with celebs
• sinister laughing
• flubbed lines
• awards
• flubbed lines
• awards
• sinister laughing
• someone dies
• "whodunnit?"
• "she/he dunnit"
• bow

Ta-dah.

We do, actually, present more of an exciting write up for the press and for those who are, you know, interested in coming.  You, my friends, get the Reader's Digest version.  But this is what we do, and we'll do it next weekend, the weekend after that and the Friday after that.

And then, you'd better believe it, I'm taking myself a full-day siesta.

Don't even bother me unless my eyebrows are on fire. 

In that case, put 'em out quick so I can get back to Matlock.

Elements of a drug deal

Lesson learned: some details need a liiiiitle more elaboration when telling a story through bullet points.

Like when one mentions possibly busting up a drug deal in a recent excursion to a certain state capital.

Were the cops involved?

Was your life in danger?

Did someone bust a cap?

It's a natural tendency to think of the worst possible scenario when given limited information.

(guilty, oh so guilty)

(i blame it on my vivid imagination)

(we're getting off topic here)

(by we i mean me)

(sorry to drag you in there)

So to set the record straight, I may have exaggerated my bullet point.

But I may not have either!

You tell me: there I was driving all around the dark streets of Albany trying to find parking space on a Saturday night of all nights.  I stop at a light and see what I think are several spots along a side street.  But as I'm waiting I see two suspicious characters walk across the street to one of the parked cars and get in.  They just sit there.  I pull in in front of the car and see a person get out of the car behind me and go into the car in front of me and just sit there.

Weird.

And then a really nice SUV pulls up next to me and stares at me.

Was he trying to see if I was one of his regulars?

Was he trying to see if I was a cop??

That's when I grabbed everything of any value, ran toward the restaurant, and prayed my car would still be there with all four of its tires when I came back.

So, what would you call that?

Being not so familiar with drug deals I just assumed that's what that was.

I guess it could have been a meeting with a hit man, or maybe just two parents getting together under the cover of darkness to discuss the terms of their custody arrangement.

We'll never know.

And that is where my story ends.  I came back out later and my car was there, my tires were there and no one was hiding in the back seat waiting to ambush me for bein' a snitch.

So, thoughts?

Concerns?

Questions?

Recommendations to get my brain examined?

I welcome your comments. 

The nice ones.

You asked, Stacie answered

I heard you.

You were dying to know what we did this weekend.

It's because Corey and I lead such fascinating lives you feel the need to live your own through us, right?

That's what I thought.

Without further ado, our weekend in bullets:

• pajamas
• oatmeal
• pajamas
• crepes
• pajamas
• lame daytime TV
• more TV
• some felting
• horse racing
• pajamas
• shower!
• navigate Albany to find restaurant
• interrupt drug deal
• birthday dinner for friend
• dream of pajamas
• pajamas
• church
• pajamas
• felting
• stomach ache

The End.

What's that, you say?

You may have overestimated the amount of excitement you expected to find here?

Would this be more or less riveting if I told you those pajamas had pink flamingos on them?

....

Hello?

Gobble Gobble

Where do I begin?

I mean, Thursday was technically the gateway into the holiday season, and that's kind of a big deal so of course I'm going to have a story or five to tell.

But where do I begin?!

...

My BFF came into town Wednesday night with her toddler, Lucy.  It was unplanned, but not unwelcomed.

Just....unplanned.

Have I mentioned Corey and I do not have children?

Or that our "baby proofing" previously consisted of moving items that would be attractive to a Golden Retriever mouth?

A few mistakes:

• left Oliver-dog's food bowls on the floor
• left wool for felting on ottoman

If you put two and two together you get a few necklaces and bracelets smelling like salmon and beef jerky.

We did our usual two meals on Thanksgiving.  First with my family where I swore I would not stuff my face, but stuffed my face anyway, and then with Corey's family where I had no more room to stuff.

So I stuffed my pockets.

Just kidding.  But, seriously, I wish I had.

On Friday I replaced my dad's and my traditional 3am Black Friday outing for an 11am shove match at the outlet mall where I found a pair of red corduroy stretchy pants at Banana Republic for $10.  I'm so glad I like the clothes no one else wants.  I lean toward stretchy now that my Summer of Carbs has turned into a Fall of Cookies and I'm getting all squishy.

By then our house was baby free and in the afternoon while Corey let loose with the vacuum I was able to felt my way to arthritis.  The process I now use involves stabbing small balls of wool with special needles, so I guess it was appropriate that I stabbed away to the 48 Hours Mystery marathon on TLC.

The rest of our holiday weekend was slow and uneventful.

I declared Saturday to be a day of inside projects and that is where I stayed.  Inside.  Washing sheets, felting, eating and not showering.  And on Sunday I accidentally got a spatula stuck in my stand mixer and flung cookie dough across the kitchen.

Corey was mad.  I think he's glad I'm back to work and away from his kitchen where I tend to make messes.

I made quite a few messes.

First with the two pumpkin pies.

Did you know I have this thing about making my pies from scratch?  It takes me three hours and I do actually get flour on everything, including the dog.

Then I made a green bean casserole.

Did you know I have this thing about making my cooking projects more difficult than they need to be?  I may or may not have sent Corey on a mission for bacon Thanksgiving morning.

Then I made dog treats for each of the ten dogs we encounter in our whirlwind, cross county Thanksgiving tour.

Did you know I have this thing about turning myself into Martha Stewart?  Fancy packaging, dog bone labels, wood basket and all?

Lord help me if I were to ever be a full time housewife.

And Lord help my waistline.

But now, finally, I'm back to work.  The daily grind.

...counting down the days until the next round of holiday madness.

Weekend Wrap Up: Rednecks and Ghost Stories

Happy belated Halloween everybody!!

I hope it was spooktacular to whatever degree in which you are most comfortable!  My Halloween was a tad less than thrilling this year.  There was some felting, I cleaned out a closet, saw a few trick-or-treaters walk by, ventured out into a downtown establishment where I played the mental game of "is that wart real or fake?", and then snuggled into bed with Oliver and Matlock.

Edge-of-your-seat kind of stuff.

But that's what most people expect when Halloween falls on a stinkin' Monday.

Now, my Halloween weekend?  That was fun.

Thirty minutes of it, to be exact.

My sister Kimberlie and I have a standing date at the Double M Haunted Hayride every October.  There's a field, a tractor, some hay and mayhem.  I wouldn't call it knock-yer-socks-off (or as my friends to the south say: I wouldn't want to slap my mama) but a good time, nonetheless.

Our ritual: we meet at my apartment, laugh about how many layers we're wearing (3 pairs of pants this year, a record), make scream faces for the camera, and giggle all the way to the farm.  We had an extra this year, Kimberlie's friend Logan who proved to be a good fit in our night of shenanigans.

Shenanigans that started the second we sat down on that flat-bed.

"'OMG I'm at the Haunted Hayride!!' Now as soon as you're done texting your BFF put your cell phone in a zippered pocket!"

Jolly security guards, priceless.

"I just soaked through ALL layers of my pants."

It was snowing, by the way, and the hay was wet.  We did not pee our pants prior to the hayride.

Or during, actually.  To clarify further.

So we ride around.  Dead bodies jumped out at us, zombie school children followed us around, we even saw the headless horseman:

"Awwww, can I pet the horse?"

Fail.

Being oh-so-slightly wound, I jumped at the slightest movement.  I also screamed loudly.  My whole body is still sore from the tension that came from knowing something was going to jump out at me and force me to scream right in my neighbor's ear.

It's one of those reflexes I just cannot control.

But all of that is plain fun!  I love being scared, one night a year.

In the last part of our hayride we encountered a redneck village full of dilapidated trailers and cannibal toothless wonders.  Men in overalls and flannel ran out of their homes screaming at us, and some even followed our tractor!

One of these bufoons startled Logan and she screamed.

Logan: "I'm sorry!"

Kimberlie: "Did you just apologize for screaming?"

Redneck:  "It's because she farted."

Everyone within earshot: "Hahaha!"

Redneck: "Hey...(to the person leading our group) be careful, this one right here FARTED."

After we de-tractored I heard a few people whispering:

"That's the girl who farted."

Poor Logan.

But all fart jokes aside, this year's adventure was my favorite.

The rest of the night include a haunted house, ice cream and enough of The Shining to reach and exceed my creep tolerance, about an hour and a half.

And now I'm set until next year.

Weekend Wrap Up: Olympians and Football

Stacie: A+ weekend, could not have been better.

Corey: pppsshhhhh, glad that's over.

Obviously, not everyone is going to have a super fabulous time every single minute of every single day.  That's why it's so great when there are a series of good things that last over several consecutive minutes.

Unfortunately, Corey had to work Saturday and Sunday on a huge last minute project for his bosses.  And this is after working non-stop on a previous huge last minute project.  The last thing anyone wants to do after days of stress is to commit to a weekend of stress.

But he did it, and only slightly resisted.

What a trooper.

Lucky for him, 'tis the season for so much football you'll want to poke your eyes out with a rusty fork.

...or is it just me?

So he had not one, not two, but (what felt like) a million games to watch both afternoons.  Yaaaay.

My weekend, on the other hand, was full of goodness.  My activities were ooooozing goodness.

I was fortunate enough to hook up with Special Olympics for their state games held near my town on Saturday where I was stationed at the golf event.  I followed around two athletes and their coaches as they played an alternate shot, 9-hole round.

My job was to keep score and make sure they followed the rules.  Although I do still play golf, I can't say I've actually played by the rules since my days on my high school's team.  So my knowledge of the nit-picky stuff was rusty.

We didn't run into too many problems.  Only about a dozen lost balls.

And one very. large. water hazard.

Later on in the day, maybe it was within hour three of the four hour round of 9-holes, one of the athletes and I started talking about Halloween:

me: "So, do you dress up for Halloween?"

D: (looks at me for a second) "I'm 37 years old."

me: (taking foot out of mouth)

D:  "I have to find a girlfriend."

Nice job, Stace.  But we were still friends, and I cheered like a crazy lady when he won a silver medal later in the day.

After a full day of golf and golf activities I had me one heck of a night relaxing on the couch, eating a Moe's burrito and razzleberry pie.  This was followed by a lovely lunch with my family after church on Sunday and an afternoon of (more) football with Corey and the gang.  Of course, I ended my night with more razzleberry pie with ice cream and apple crisp on the side.

Great.  Great, great, great, great, great.

"Yeah, it was alright...."

Weekend Wrap Up: Sales and Travels

What happened here?  All of a sudden we switch our calendars to October and the temperature drops 20 degrees?!  Is this fair??

Wow, what a lovely, warm fall September day this is.
...

Helloooo October.  I cannot feel my fingers.

My mom, my sisters and I woke up on Saturday, bright and early on the day of the World's Largest Garage Sale, to 50 degrees.  And rain.

Of all days.

But, being loyal bargain shoppers, we went anyway.  Ponchos, rain boots, umbrellas, and all.

For half of our party, the weather got the best of us.  Only two hours in, my sisters retreated to the car to sit with the heat turned up to 90.  Two hours, several purchases, and one soup-in-a-bread-bowl later my mom and I joined them. 

My fingers were so cold and red I could not use them anymore.

I listen to my body's signals.

More on my super finds later, like after I finally show Corey.

One purchase may or may not be well received.

But that's a story for a different day.

After the sale, Corey and I packed up our overnight gear for a trip to his parents' house.  It was a rare free weekend he wanted to use to see one of his grandmothers.  I oblige.  Gramma time is good time.

We sat by the fire, kept Oliver from eating the cats, shopped, ate Italian, ate cake, ate breakfast, ate meatloaf, talked about how lousy the weather has been...your usual family togetherness stuff.

I also stabbed myself with a felting needle.  A through-and-through as I think they call it in crime scene investigating.

"If it was bad you'd be bleeding."

"I AM bleeding!!"

"Oh."

Now we're back to the grindstone.  Busy week ahead of us.  Lots of plans.  Packing for our cross-country adventure.  Worrying over flying.

Yay....can't wait.

Weekend Wrap Up: Happy to see Monday

Sweet mother of pearl am I glad this past weekend is ov-er.

Corey probably is too, but for different reasons.

Allow me to elaborate.

As you might remember, I've done a lot of work with our local soup kitchen to plan two of their major fundraisers that fall within a month and a half of each other.  The first was the festival in the park in August, the second a huge breakfast served to thousands of attendees of a balloon festival held this past weekend.

The planning that went into the two events was exhausting enough, but the actual events themselves were both equally physically exhausting.

Starting at 3:30am my dad and I started the days prepping food and working with the 80+ volunteers; we had an hour to fill 8 chaffing dishes with scrambled eggs, French toast, pancakes and sausage.  Then four tables had to be lined with OJ, coffee, hot water, milk and every kind of condiment you would ever need.

Minus mini Tabasco bottles.  But we have to have something to shoot for.

The weather was terrible and none of the balloons lifted off.  But on Sunday, at least, they were blown up.

Which means there were still plenty of people lining up at 5am for an all-you-can eat feast.

Which means there was lots of scrambling of more than just the eggs.

Which means I was exhausted.

Needless to say, several naps were in order.

By 1pm on Saturday I had already worked six hours and napped for two.

...

And on Corey's end, he was in charge of monitoring Oliver-dog 24 hours each day for bruising in his ears, eyes, or gums that would immediately send us all to the doggy ER.

"I had to google what a Golden Retriever's ears are supposed to look like just to be sure."

"And?"

"He's fine."

For some reason, Oliver develops this weird rash on his undercarriage that lasts for several weeks and then disappears.  Corey took him to the vet on Friday just to finally find out what it could be and was surprised when the vet thought he had a serious blood disorder.

Corey left the office with several hundred dollars in vet bills, a 3x per day medication and a special shampoo to be used that day.

For a guy who has never owned a dog in his life, let alone bathed one, the whole process took a lot out of him and I came home Friday night to towels strewn across the floor, dog hair in the drain and a wet dog running wild, sliding all over the wood floors in our apartment.

Corey also had instructions to monitor Oliver closely and keep him calm and confined until his blood work comes back this week.  If anything about him even slightly changed Corey was told to take him to the ER immediately.

Confined, yes.  Calm, no.

But I guess it's a good sign he still has the same amount of energy.

...

So now here we are, Monday...again.  But this week we have a weekend of leaf peeping, granny visiting and a world's largest garage sale to look forward too.

Happy Ending.

Cape Cod getaway

Happy anniversary Mr. and Mrs. Lucas!

Two years we've been married.

Two whole years last Sunday.

So to celebrate we decided to take a trip.  And if you follow any of my obnoxious tweets you know we rounded Cape Cod and settled for a long weekend near the tip, in North Truro.

Our hotel was right there on the beach, and at night at high tide you could just about spit right into the ocean.

Corey could have.  I, being a proper lady, am not proficient in spitting.

It.  Was.  Magical.

Not the spitting.  The weekend, it was lovely.

First, the entire elf shoe that is the cape is just one awesome, sandy beach chunk of land that has the feel of vacation and relaxation the second you cross the Bourne Bridge.

We stopped in Sandwich, Corey's least favorite place on the cape and I could see why: it was my favorite.  Antique stores and museums as far as the eye could see.  Then there was this gem:

Hello Captain Scott, your crabcake sandwich was absolutely deeee-vine.  And Corey says thanks for the memories....of some rockin' fried shrimp.

We stayed in North Truro through Sunday, our anniversary, where we consumed large amounts of fried seafood, cooked seafood, seafood mixed with other seafood and chocolate.

Oh the chocolate.

I ate cake at 10:30 in the morning. And ice cream. And candy.

Because I can. I'm an adult.

We walked the beach in the mornings; one morning witnessing a particularly hungry seagull shake the living daylights out of its breakfast, a good sized crab.

"It's the circle of life."

Indeed. But that circle is terribly violent, for goodness sake.

But I digress.

Corey loves, loves, loves taking pictures. I usually have no time behind the lens, unless I'm directed to snap a picture of Corey on the beach, Corey on the balcony, Corey in the vineyard, Corey doing his goofy dance in his underwear and socks, etc.

He's really good at it.

This was our view across the bay toward Provincetown.

"Ooooooo...."

We spent a few hours each day in Provincetown, an iddy biddy little village at the very end of the cape.  I would say it rivals Saratoga in cuteness, but don't tell my precious home that.  However, what we saw and who we met could alone fill its own post.

If you don't already know why a couple-a kids from small towns like Corey and me would have a hard time just knowing where it was safe to look, then your mommies and daddies probably don't want you to know.

I found myself in a few situations in the art galleries where I was face to face with things I don't see in my day to day routines.

Unless my day to day routines involved touring local strip joints.

TMI?

I had to fight the urge to giggle and run from the buildings.

Remember, adult.

Safe places: the taffy shop, the ice cream shop, and that home furnishing store that had three Golden Retrievers sitting outside.

Although most of our actual anniversary was spent laying around the hotel room watching football while Corey fought a terrible headache, Sunday was my favorite day.  Large breakfast in the hotel's cafe, antique/craft fair/bake sale in N. Truro and a jazz festival at the vineyard down the street from our room.

First, I'm a sucker for breakfast.  I like food and I like mornings, a good breakfast literally makes my day.

Second, I'm a sucker for arts and crafts, and antiques, and bake sales.  This was all wrapped up into one large event.  Yes, Corey did have to drag me away from the beautiful Polish dishware, but just having the opportunity to look was a dream come true.

Obviously it does not take much for me...

And Third:

I love vineyards.

I love jazz.

And I love this guy.  And this guy was having a good time.

We left early on Monday.  It was time.  After a full three days of being on the go we were tired.  And Corey missed his dog.

I'm not going to say the first two years of our marriage have been candies and roses. 

Unless you count actual make-up candy and roses.  In that case, I've ingested my weight in chocolate.

I'd imagine anyone thrown into a share-everything-including-life's-biggest-decisions-and-a-bathroom situation is going to struggle at the beginning.

But things are starting to shape up.

Corey and I went on a vacation together and had a really good time.  We love each other.  We enjoy being together.  And we genuinely wanted to celebrate being together.

Despite anything that happened in our first two years, I think our future looks good.




...as long as there is still some chocolate.

Weekend Wrap Up: Wine tasting and birthdays

We saw the sun this weekend.

WooHoo!

Also there was some flooding, alpacas, eccentric artists in coat tails and a top hat, a roasted pig, leopard print, a birthday girl, white caps and felt balls.

Put all that together and you get one crazy party. 

A 98-year-old nana in leopard print?!

No, we spread the fun out into two very long days.

Early Saturday morning I dragged Corey with me to an artist community for Harvest Fest; an all day open house featuring animals, art, food, and demonstrations.  People in the northeast reeeeally embrace the fall, and I embrace people who embrace fall.  And Corey embraces me as I embrace people who...you get the idea.

We met puppies from the local animal shelter.  I picked out ten of my favorite ten.  And then I told them I loved them as Corey ushered me by.  We pet alpacas and baby cows, walked around the grounds, ate hot dogs, I bought eight ounces of alpaca wool and then we left.

Lunch was a fabulous mess of all kinds of slop thrown into a container and labeled the "trash can" platter at a nearby drive in.  Fortunately, I digested enough to still be able to enjoy the sampling of food at the local performing arts center's wine and food festival Saturday night.

There was meat, and pasta, and bread, and more meat, and shrimp, and some kind of green veggies, and more meat, and cheese, and cookies.

And then there was wine that sparkled, wine that didn't, wine that was sweet, wine that was really whiskey with maple syrup, and a funny liquor that tasted just like cough syrup with a hint of pistachio.

I may or may not have sampled my share and beyond of everything.

I also may or may not have forced Corey to smuggle out the etched wine glass under his coat.

Good times.

Then there was family time.  Sunday we drove up to Corey's hometown for his grandmother's 98th birthday party.

We took pictures and cooked hamburgers.  And it's a three family affair so there were plenty of stories.

Oliver played with his cousin Reuben, a one-and-a-half year old Springer Spaniel before passing out on the ride home.

I spent the rest of the day felting to a Matlock movie marathon and Corey watched whatever games were on; football, baseball, horse racing, badminton, bass fishing, literally whatever.

And then we slept the sleep of two very sleepy sleeps.

The end.

...

Try reeeeally hard friends, have a happy Monday!

Happy Belated Travers' Day!

What in the name of monkey feet is she talking about??

Sometimes I forget I don't carry you all around in my pocket to see and experience everything I do.

I also forget there is a world beyond Saratoga...

...despite the fact that for 22 of my 29 years I was actually in that world.

My friends, this place in which I reside is not your typical small town.  Sure, we have restaurants you can barely fit your entire body into and boutiques that sell art and tattoo permanent makeup onto your face all in the same place.

We got ourselves a racetrack; the most historic racetrack in the world.

And this track is home to the longest running sporting event in the country: the Travers Grade I stakes race worth $1 million and the rights to be in the running for horse of the year.

(scroll down to comments for Corey's correction of my statement above, rest assured, there will be one.)

We get something like 45,000 people for the day, including a few celebrities.  Corey and I have run into Bobby Flay, one of the guys from the Sopranos, Bill Parcells, John Walsh, Rod Stewart*, etc.

Every year to celebrate Corey and I throw a pre-Travers party where we invite everyone and their mothers (literally, we had moms there) to hang out in our driveway to eat pastries, drink mimosas and try to avoid being pestered by the dog.

I try to spruce up the asphalt with a few flowery table clothes and flower arrangements.  Last year I managed to swipe some beautiful purple loosestrife from the side of the highway in the cover of darkness.  This year I went legit and swiped flowers from my own yard.

We eat and chat and then head down for the races.

We usually have a story to tell afterward.  For several years it was, "Can you believe how hard it rained?!"

Then there was, "Can you believe all the dang bees?!"

Last year, "Can you believe Betsy fell and had to spend the day in the hospital?!"

This year, "Can you believe we let Jennifer eat the crackers out of the dog's bowl?!"

I really get a kick out of this one.

See, after the party was over and we started to clean up I put a handful of leftover crackers in the dog's bowl because the trash was still downstairs and I didn't think five crackers would drastically affect O-dog's waistline.  Corey took them out.  Apparently our dog does not eat crackers.  He set them on the counter and we both walked out of the room.

Enter Jennifer.

Five minutes pass.

Enter Stacie.

"Ohmigoshthosecrackerswereinthedog'sbowl!!"

She had eaten all but two of them.

Poor thing was horrified.

And disgusted.

I told everyone I know.

And then we headed down to the races.  Another eventful year.

...

*It was actually one of the Vice Presidents at Corey's office who just happens to look exactly like Rod Stewart. 

Weekend Wrap Up: Kids and Dresses and Ice Cream

Advice to newlyweds: before you agree to bring four 10 year olds into your home for a sleepover make sure your husband is already 100% on board with having children in the near future.

I'm pretty sure Corey and I have now put ourselves on the five year plan.

Saturday afternoon I packed up a trunk load of pillows, sleeping bags, more pillows, make up, clothes, dress up clothes, and more pillows.  Then four giggly girls piled into my car and we were off.  To my house.  To spend the day, night, and morning together.

Before we were even five minutes into the 25 minute trip to my house we were on the subject of public assistance.  I had to think back to my days as a pre-teen....I'm pretty sure I was more concerned with what outfit Ken was going to wear on his date with working girl Barbie than the state our welfare system.  Luckily the conversation quickly shifted to their mutual dislike of Justin Bieber.

Here is a brief synopsis of the day/night/morning:

We pet horses, had a picnic in the park, and loaded up on ice cream on more than one occasion.  I learned my stomach is actually not in the shape it was when I was 10.

At one point in the day we aggravated the workers at a Lily Pulitzer store.  Apparently it is not acceptable to shove sweaty girls into $200 dresses.  Then we aggravated an entire toy store and soon after we aggravated a family of four while arguing which Red Box movie we all wanted to see.

We all did not want to see any of them.  So two of us sucked it up and we ended up watching Soul Surfer.

Which, by the way, the two of us who didn't want to watch it were the only ones actually watching to the end.  But that's beside the point in this totally pointless post.

Before we finally settled down for dinner and dessert there was this small matter of a fashion show to attend to.  The girls put on all their outfits, did each other's hair and make up (read: lip gloss) and paraded through my apartment.  I was put on music duty.  Karaoke, to be more specific; Amy Winehouse, Taylor Swift and Jackson Five in a sparkly blue hat.

Eventually Corey came home.  It was later that night after I had given them the rules: no running, no jumping, no stinky feet on the couch, and absolutely no waking of Stacie unless something was broken (skin, Kate Spade vase, bones) and I had gone to bed.

"Um, I think you should go check on the girls."

"Why?  I don't hear any screaming."

"They are hanging off the stairs..."

"But I don't hear anything."

"No, really.  You should go check on them."

At least those girls were quiet about being defiant.  And lucky for me (thanks to my forcing them to walk all over Saratoga) they were asleep pretty quick.  Like 1am. 

I tried to get up early enough on Sunday to be completely ready when they woke up to be a buffer between Corey and the girls.  But they stirred.  And then the dang dog just had to snuggle every single one of them.  Before we knew it, they were up.  Twirling these little twirly-gigs that landed in our plants, bounced off the walls, and sent each one of them into a fit of laughter.  At 8am.

I caught a glimpse of  "ain't gonna happen" from Corey, which I concurred in that moment.

But then we ushered them out the door for pastries, a little horse warm up watching at the track and then to church.  Afterward, each one of them was dropped off and I'm pretty sure there are five more girls' nights in the works.  I cried a little inside.

I came home, laid on the bed and swore I would not get up for anything.  But then Monday came.

Now a note to the parents:  I tried my best to be diplomatic about the whole welfare thing because, you know, they're 10, so I basically shoved the whole "love everybody!" down their throats in a totally sappy way.  I also told them how important  Sunday afternoon naps are so hopefully they'll give you a break once a week.    And I really did have a good time; they are great girls with great personalities, but I am seriously considering being the fun aunt that has lots of dogs.

Coming Together For Hope: check

Remember that thing I was talking about last week?

You know, that little event keeping me from blogging, and working, and keeping up with friends, and eating normal meals at normal hours of the day?

Well, that little event is over.

(enter huge sigh of relief here)

It darn near killed me, a fact Corey can attest to after seeing me nearly face plant in my french toast the next day, it definitely fried me, and I needed a full three days to recover.

My best friend with a red beard, Pete of PJN Photography, was our official photographer.  I know you're dying to see pictures of the thing.  Especially after reading my weekly rants of waning sanity, and then not reading because I was always just too busy.  I promise I'll post some when I get them

Yeah, just like how you posted pictures of Kimberlie getting snotted on by that alpaca.

Ok, that was an entirely different situation depending on my mom, who does not have a professional reputation to protect, getting me those pictures which are still floating around somewhere.

But I digress.

The day was good.

Crazy, hectic, and long, but good.

Here are some bullet points with words after them:

• The event was about bringing people to Jesus, and thankfully there was no actual going to Jesus when two of the larger-than-a-two-bedroom-house bounce houses deflated.
• Or when some of the vendors packed up early and drove their cars straight through the field.
• We'd do things differently next time.
• I suffered from swampy feet all day.  Note to self: bring extra shoes when dew is involved.
• Additional note to self: remember that you actually have extra shoes while wishing you had extra shoes.
• I will from now on leave notes for myself: Is your zipper where it should be?
• On the occasions when it is so important for it to be up, it is usually down.
• Two words: Christian rap.
• Three more: I like it.
• Now four words: Anthony Kohlhepp is cool.
• You'd think churches would be all over a church-type event.  They weren't.
• (shrugs shoulders)
• Our planning committee was awesome and now that we aren't meeting every second of the day I kinda miss them.
• I got to carry a walkie talkie. 
• My dad wore a Mickey Mouse shirt because he goes by Mick.
• My dad is goofy.
• (shakes head)
• Up next: serving breakfast to thousands at 5am to raise money for the same soup kitchen. 
• With all this work we should at least get a discount on our meals.
• That was a lame joke.
• The executive director and his wife are on my "Nicest People I Know" list.
• They showed me where the secret stash of chocolate is in the basement.
• I needed it.

Chew on that for now, folks, until I get some pictures up and running.

Oh, the anticipation!!!

Weekend Wrap Up: Berries and Burns

"Ooooo, garage sale?!  No, zucchini."

That was my sister, Kimberlie.  We went berry picking Saturday, but of course had our eyes on the look out for cheap junk.

...

July has been a wonderful month of weekends.  Each weekend is even better than the last!

...due in part to a completely jam packed five days in between of work, work, work, walk dog, work, and work.

Of course Corey is happy.  With the start of track season his weekends are full of handicapping races, yammering on the phone with his buddies, and hanging out at the place to be in the summer, Siro's.

And that leaves me with oodles and oodles of time to myself.  Sure, I get my Corey and Stacie time in the morning; we walk the dog, go to breakfast, shop the farmer's market.  But then he's off and I'm free go wherever the wind may take me.

That wind kept me at our apartment Friday night, but it brought down my two sisters, Katie and Kimberlie, for a girls' night that included nachos, cookies, cookie dough, Super Mario Brothers, an insane amount of giggling, a near fight because Katie accused Kimberlie of trying to kill Mario on purpose, and the movie Black Swan.

Side note: the movie Black Swan is not intended to be watched by those who are easily embarrassed by baby-makin' material.  It is also not intended for those who name Dumb and Dumber in their top 10.

Another side note: nachos are not complete without avocado.

What came next in the weekend looked something like this:

• berry picking
• three pounds of raspberries and blueberries freezing until I can figure out what to do with them
• sunburn
• excitement over upcoming tan...you know, once the lobster color fades
• playing with cutest 2yr old on the planet
• sitting in duck poo
• trying to look excited about ducks while sitting in duck poo
• dog walk
• early bed time
• church
• birthday BBQ
• birthday cake
• birthday presents, including a jar of over a million buttons
• birthday swim
• birthday near drowning
• dog walk
• clean veggies
• collapse into bed
• bad dream

And now I am exhausted.  But, once again, oh-so satisfied. 

Coming up: lots of work, some complaining, one melt down, eating my weight in chocolate, and a partridge in a pear tree.

Weekend Wrap Up: Birthday Business

I turned nearly-old on Saturday; twenty nine.

I'm over it.

But for Corey that means he only has one more year that he can say his wife is in her twenties.

...

He's over it.

...

To celebrate we had a most fantastic weekend.

I think I said the last weekend was the best in recent memory (recent being a span of just months, I have a terrible memory) but this past one has surpassed it, despite the weekend starting with news of JLo and Marc Anthony splitting.

Seriously, if Jen and Marc can't make it, who can?

If Will and Jada ever head for their attorneys don't even expect to see my face for at least three weeks.

But I digress.

The plan was to spend the day in NYC, the night in our favorite little village, Tarrytown, and return Sunday afternoon.

But this is what actually happened:

(i spent most of Friday night, also the dog's birthday, at a going-away party, the following conversation took place Saturday morning)

"Beetle, you missed all of Bro Wolf's* birthday."

"I know, but he's a dog and I don't think he realized it was his birthday."

"I had to stay with him.  I got him a steak, and you didn't come home."

"Sorry.  But Jeff is leaving on Sunday and I wanted to say good bye."

"But it was Bro Wolf's birthday."

"..."

"And then since I didn't hear from you I figured I might as well go out too and I had two beers and now I have a headache."

He was pretty upset over the way the whole night turned out.  So we called off the weekend and spent the day in Saratoga.

Which was just fine with me.

Save six hours of driving time, a ton of money for the room, a ton of money for gas and tolls, a ton of money for expensive NYC food, etc.  It would have been nice to get away, but our hometown is pretty nice already, there isn't much anyone would want to get away from.

So we started out with a birthday tour of the farm.

Corey's friend's horse farm where we met the residents. 

Who were quite hospitable.  Oh how I love horses.

Then it was off to birthday estate sale where I picked up a lovely old window shutter for $1.  My dear, sweet, "clutter-is-my-number-one-enemy" husband doesn't yet understand my need for random "junk."

He sees junk.  I see an earring rack.

Then it was birthday lunch time.

I tell you what, anyone that gives me crab, onion rings and deviled eggs all on one plate is my new best friend.  I don't know the name of the head chef, but if he were in need of a kidney...I'm just sayin'.

Next up: birthday shopping to use all that money we saved by not going to the city.  Being the super savvy shopper that I am, I walked out of Banana Republic with $300 in merch for only $75.  Unfortunately, Corey was not agreeable to my idea of using the remainder of the money we saved at the estate sale.

But that did not stop the day!  Oh no, up next was birthday nap, directly followed by birthday Queen special on the Bio channel and birthday steak sandwich.  After the birthday sandwich came birthday ice cream topped with chocolate everything and more birthday shopping.

This was followed by birthday sidewalk chalk art,

birthday entertainment,

and birthday drinks at our favorite restaurant's back patio.

It was lovely.

But after an hour or so I was ready for the next plan, birthday movie, but Corey wasn't letting us leave.

"I'm ready to go."

"Ok, just hang on a second."

"But I'm ready."

"Just hang on.  Frank is getting me a menu."

(we had already eaten, but were planning on having breakfast there the next day)

"You mean the same menu we already looked at online??"

"...no, a different menu.  Just hold on, ok??"

After a few more minutes of agitation Frank, the bartender, walks out with my birthday surprise: a fancy dessert with fancy writing and a candle.

It was delish.

And then it was birthday bedtime.  Because after all of that I had nothing left to give.  Not to a birthday movie, not to birthday cookies, not even to birthday Matlock.  But that is the best way to end the day, completely exhausted and satisfied.

...

*Bro Wolf is what Corey calls Oliver.  It's shortened from Brother Wolf, which probably makes even less sense, but now you know.

Weekend Wrap Up: Friends and Ballet

Best weekend in recent memory.

And I have not a single picture to share.  What am I, some kind of knucklehead?

Yes.

...

My friend Jill came to visit on Friday and we had ourselves a super, dooper girly time.  Involving all things food, garage sale and "did you hear who's with who??"

I love girl time, because living with, you know, a boy tends to stifle the amount of giggling I need to get out of my system.  It's like this: holding in your pee is to your bladder like holding in your giggles is to your psyche.

Or something like that.

But the best part was not the armload of goodies I picked up at an estate sale for only $3 or the lamp my dad bought me because he knew I wanted it so-so-so-so bad...

...although those things were a close runner-up.

The best part of the weekend was the Saratoga Performing Arts Center's annual Ballet Gala Lawn Party, featuring the NYC Ballet.

Which is fancy talk for a buncha people all dressed up hanging out on the lawn of SPAC eating snacks and watching the ballet.

Oh but the ballet was more than that.  It was magical.  And is there a better way to watch it than on a blanket under the stars, sipping champagne?  And is there a better way to tell a love story than through the movements and expressions of the dancers??

...maybe through Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks.  They seem to do one heck of a job in the romance department.

But before the ballet, groups of people set up tables and chairs and food and drinks and just do whatever they want to do.  It's very willy nilly, but the best kind of willy nilly because it involves whatever food stuffs you want.

Unfortunately, because I have been so busy lately I had to rely on other people's "stuffs".  Which were pret-ty good.  A little bit from this table, a little bit from that table and some cheese and crackers from my own Dixie "platters" and it was a meal fit for a gal who likes herself a tasty meal.

After the ballet we were all treated to fireworks.  Really neat fireworks that may have seemed a bit bigger and brighter due to the bottle of champagne.

Split five ways.

But champagne, nonetheless.

This was directly followed by a band Corey doesn't like and dancing.  Of course, Corey did not join Jill and I in the groove arena.  He was not missed. 

Don't get me wrong, I love the guy, but honestly Corey is there anything else you can do on the dance floor other than 80's moves?

No?

Ok, stick with what you know, that's what I always say.

The night ended at 1am when the lights went up and the music went out.  It was a side of Sunday morning I didn't expect to see.  But it was an incredibly enjoyable night.  So enjoyable I took all of Sunday and part of Monday recovering from it.

Don't judge.  I'm only human.

A human that obviously cannot handle champagne.

Weekend Wrap Up: Getaway

I like getting away about as much as I like coming home afterward.

Sometimes you just need to leave, but then there is nothing like home...where your pjs live and you know where to find your favorite channels.

Oh, and snacks.  You've got readily available snacks at home.

But I digress.

This past weekend was Corey and my annual fancy trip to the Mirror Lake Inn in Lake Placid.

(Of Winter Olympics fame...not that horrible alligator movie)

He says hello.

Every year we drive up and plant ourselves in this cozy, charming, rustic, Adirondack lodge in the quaintest little village that you could never imagine holding tens of thousands of spectators the winter of 1980.

I use my spa gift card (it's a traditional stocking stuffer, thank you Corey!), we sit on the main porch and enjoy the Inn's tea time and then eat a whole lot in various places.

This past weekend was no different.

Except that maybe we ate more.  It ended up raining the entire time, so instead of grabbing a slice of pizza while walking through the village Saturday night, we hunkered down in Mirror Lake's restaurant and ate until the cows came home.

But in our defense, when food is good you tend to ignore the bulging seams of your pants for that one last bite....or entire slice of flourless chocolate cake in our case.

That night Corey found out exactly how much I like bluegrass.

A lot.  I like it a lot.  With or without a glass and a half of pino grigio....hypothetically speaking, of course.

On Sunday, after a morning workout (people, they give each bike, treadmill, elliptical, etc. their own TV!!) Corey joined me for a swim in the indoor pool before we met his parents for brunch.  A tasty brunch with fancy eggs and fancy jellies and itty bitty bottles of Tabasco sauce.

Then we all went back to our room to pack up, my mother-in-law swiped shower caps from the housekeeping trolley, and we checked out.

Wait...

When you need a shower cap... (shrugs shoulders)

Anytheft, because it was still raining we weren't able to spend much time walking through the village.  So we hit a few of our favorite stores (Bon, I'm living in my new pants today!) and then left Lake Placid.

But wait, I saved the best for last.

And because, um, that's just how it goes chronologically.

On the side of the road about 20 minutes outside of Lake Placid we found this place:

A teeny food trailer!  For giggles I almost asked where I could find the ladies room.

Please notice the table and chairs sitting just feet from The Road.  A BBQ bus it is not, but wacky nonetheless.

And the best roadside trailer food I've ever eaten.  I recommend the falafel; messy, but delish...and really messy.

They have, um, very lax hygiene policies.  But I will eat here again. 

Like next weekend.

So in summary, good, great, awesome weekend.  A+.  Bravo.



...and now I'm ready for another one.

Weekend Update: Food and Fun

Thank goodness for sweet tasting glue strips on envelopes.  That's all I have to say.

But it's actually not.

You know me better than that.

It's Monday.  The day I tell you all the little details of Corey's and my weekend.

Like how we bought two tomato plants at the farmer's market.

But first, I start at the beginning.

Our hike.

It wasn't meant to be.

I said weeks ago that on Saturday Corey should choose for us to do one of two things: hike or golf.  He chose hike, picked the destination and scheduled us for a 7:45am departure time.  At 7:30am, as we were just waking up he suggested we get some breakfast instead.

Although I don't normally like to pass on an outdoor adventure, I had a hankerin' for home fries.  So we ditched our plans and went to Country Corner Cafe, just off the main street in Saratoga.

People, Cracker Barrel this place is not. Same country food, better country taste.  It's the kind of place out-of-towners flock to, which is why we were waiting along with parties of 9 and 12 to eat in a room the size of my bathroom.

Eventually we ate, we talked, we watched dogs walk by outside.  But before I move on to more interesting parts of the day I need to leave you with a mental picture of my breakfast, the Sunrise Benedict; two poached eggs over potato pancakes and roasted red peppers covered in hollandaise sauce.

Mmmmmm.....

After rolling ourselves down the stairs, across the street and into the car, Corey and I headed out to the farmer's market.

Where we bought two tomato plants.

For two people who don't eat tomatoes.

??

Yeah, we'll figure that part out later.  But right now we have two cute little green stalks with a couple 'a leaves sticking out and the promise of "jet star" sweet, less acidic tomatoes in 60-72 days.

We may or may not have spent several minutes, several times Saturday and Sunday just watching our little plant grow.  And I cannot guarantee we will not pick several teeny green pre-tomatoes out of excitement for having actually grown something edible.

We're city kids.

The rest of our afternoon (because it was afternoon by the time we were done running all around doing things you are not interested in) was less than exciting.  Corey browsed the latest in horse racing news.  I took a nap.

And then it was Father's Day...Yay!

Now, my sisters and I love our daddy, and we would have loved to take him to our favorite special occasion breakfast spot, but no amount of love was gettin' us in in under an hour and a half.  Everyone was there...eating our omelettes and apple cider donuts with their brothers, mothers, neighbors, aunties, friends, dogs, rabbits, owls, and office furniture.

So then we tried option two: our favorite every-other-day eatin' spot.  Packed to the gills. 

By the third try, your gramma's favorite diner because it's open when she wants it at 4am, we found a table in under 15 minutes.

I had the corned beef hash with eggs and potatoes...

Mmmmmm.....

We had ourselves a good little time, loved on our daddy, then it was on to the rest of the day.

In other words: laundry and a dog walk.

I also had to file my very first New York State sales tax form which was exciting and terrifying, but that's another story for another day...a day  in which I can find a way to make taxes less than the most boring subject ev-er.

And that's all the news that's fit to print.

Bye now.

Weekend Wrap Up: craft festivals and torential downpour

Hello friends.  I'm back.

Back from the brink of exhaustion.

Not really the brink.  I was fully there.  This stress/anxiousness/sleep deprivation induced cold sore on my lip is proof.

But I'm back.  Because my first major craft show is over.  All that's left now is wrap up: figure out money and inventory stuff.  Load leftovers on Etsy.  Get every piece of jewelry out of my sight before I scream bloody murder.  I don't want to look at another piece of wool for at least a week.

That is, after I finish the three custom orders for four pieces.

But I digress.

The weekend was fun.  Rainy and dismal.  But fun.

The public still managed to come around.  They brought their jackets and umbrellas.

But to be honest, I was disappointed.  I wanted so badly for my very first show to be successful, and by my own wildly unrealistic standards it wasn't.

Some of the factors were out of my control.  Like the rain.  As hard as I tried to use my mental muscle to push the clouds out to sea I just couldn't make it happen.

And then there's the economy.  I'm not going to pretend to know what the heck this means, I just hear everyone else use it when things go wrong so I can assume I have a 50% chance of being correct when blaming lack-luster sales on "the economy."

But then there were things that I could have controlled.  Like the layout of my booth and its lack of whistles and bells.

Dangit Stacie!  Why did you forget the whistles and BELLS?!

But alas, I know what to do next time.

And now that I've had a day to recover, assess the damages and let my brain fog clear I can say there will be a next time.

I pretty much had that figured out, though, at the end of the show Sunday when I met a fellow jewelry maker who clued me into the world of trading.

"Wait, so I can buy your earrings by giving you a pair of mine??"

If only I had known about this when ordering my second crab cake sandwich, the one that cost me my entire profit for the weekend...

I'm only slightly exaggerating.

It was worth it.

Now, on to the goods:

I used a lot of things I had on hand and/or freebies for my props.  Like the driftwood I smuggled in my suitcase from my trip out to Washington.  Oh, and the little silver trays I collected at various garage sales.

These hair accessories went like hot cakes.  Like chocolate chip, Mickey Mouse shaped hot cakes.

This display is courtesy of Corey Lucas.  

I am most proud of this "bracelet stand."  Also previously known as two pieces of driftwood I found laying on the beach among others I also wanted and ended up kicking part of the way back to the house we were staying in because I just couldn't hang on to it all.

I painted my silver trays with chalkboard paint, swiped flowers from my mom's yard, and grabbed the milk glass from Mrs. Buck's house.  My parents' bought a lot of things, too, to help me out.  Like this pie shelf.  Which I hope to keep stocked with pies.  As was intended.

And these little bathing-lady figures you may see standing around.  They are the most darling little things...

Sometimes I call them my fat-bottomed girls.

They make my rockin' world go 'round.

Get on your bikes and riiiide!

But I digress.



I was happy to hear so many positive comments. 

"So pretty!"

"Very unique."

"I like this a lot."

"They look like moth balls."

And then, of course, there were a few who I would not consider fans.

But I'm pleased with the overall response.  Pleased enough to see what happens next year.

...

**Update: find more ideas from my 2012 show on my new craft blog here!

Weekend Wrap Up: Part II

And by "Part II" I mean this past weekend.  The one we just survived, barely.

(Part I was Memorial Day weekend.  Remember?  I couldn't be bothered to harass Blogger for not allowing me to post my pictures.)

Saturday/Sunday were also known as crunch time, because as I am just days away from my first big craft show I am in freak out mode to get everything done.  And by "everything" I mean the things I already have planned and the things I add to my to-do list daily.

In between activities, Corey scheduled us to attend a barbeque at our friend Scotty O'Dwyer's house.

Scotty O'Dwyer is actually his nickname.  I realize nicknames are not usually four syllables longer than the actual name, but it ain't my game.  Take it up with Corey.

AnyBBQ, we packed up our sausage roll and cake balls and headed out at 4:30pm for what I thought would be a few hours with friends, and a much needed break for me. 

Oh and a break it was; a seven hour one.  One that included every type of meat you can fit on a grill, a hot tub, six billion mosquitoes and four half glasses of wine.

I probably could have typed "two glasses of wine" but I drank them one half at a time, so...

Even two full glasses is one and a half glasses more than I have in a month, and I was feeling pret-ty relaxed.  I ate cake balls with wild abandon and may have made plans with Corey's cousin to find our way into the Bradley Cooper movie that's filming around here.

The wine then had the same affect on my sleeping as Benadryl does.  I was out within seconds of crawling in bed, and then woke up groggy and unsure of my name.  In no way was I sick (only two glasses, remember), but I was also not completely "there", and this followed me the rest of the morning.

Like to church.

Yes, I had an incident at church.  But let me preface it by saying I normally have a hard time paying attention to speakers in any topic or arena in perfect health and mental well-being.  College lectures were a nightmare.  You say learning disability, I say mind your own business.  Tomato, Tomato.

That saying actually doesn't work in print.

AnyEmbarrassingSituation, Corey and I sat down in the sanctuary and the sermon commenced.

What was it on, you ask?

Ummmm...errrrrr....wellll..... 

I could only half pay attention because I have been so sleep deprived for several weeks now and had groggy brain from the wine.  Eventually Pastor Bill came to a point in the sermon where I distinctively remember him saying:

"Stand up if you'd like to give glory to God."

I thought to myself, uh, yeah I 'd like to do that.

 I looked over at Corey, "Let's stand up."

He gave me a quizitive look and we stood.  But not everyone in the sanctuary did.  In fact, only half of the people stood up, and the ones sitting were clapping.

"Why isn't everyone standing?"

"...I don't know..."

Eventually we sit down and the pastor talks about hardships and difficult situations most people struggle with and I assume that's why we stood up: we had hardships at some point in our lives.  That's ok, I thought.  I got those.

So on we go with our day.

Brunch.

Stomach ache.

Jewelry.

Then I talked to my dad, who also attends the same church but went to the earlier service.

"Hey, remember when Pastor Bill asked people to stand up in church this morning?"

"Yeah."

"Um, what were they standing for?"

"That was for people who have conquered addictions."

"Get outta town."

"...??"

Oh dear sweet baby pandas what have I done.

I've let about 200 people speculate Corey and I met at a rehab clinic, that's what I've done.

Oh the embarrassment.

The shame.

The painful lesson that late nights and rabble-rousing may seem like fun at the time but have horrrrrible, embarrassing consequences.

But on another note: I was super productive, so...