Phone Fun

My friends know better than to do anything remotely embarrassing or hilarious in front of me.

I have a blog and I know how to use it.

It's common knowledge.

However, I guess they can't be held completely responsible if they aren't aware I'm in the room.

But I'm still going to report it. It's my duty.

On Friday, I turned the corner and my friend's back was to me.

She was on the phone.

Obviously, I only heard her side of the conversation. Here's how it went:

"Is it hard?"

A few seconds of silence.

"Does it hurt?

A few seconds of silence.

"How deep does it go?"

A few seconds of silence.

"Well, okay. How much does it cost?"

Me. On the floor. Screaming with laughter.

Her. Startled. And Confused.

Tears were streaming down my face as I sputtered, "You know, hiring a male prostitute is illegal in the state of Virginia. You can't be gay or a pervert. The Bible says so."

She rolled her eyes and said the Bible says nothing about scheduling a Swedish massage...

I'm researching that.

She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy

With Mamaw Erma's 86th birthday bash behind us, we woke up on Sunday morning and decided to ignore our cake hangovers.

We headed to the farm to do some "yard work."

I'd really been looking forward to this. I'm definitely the city kid who looks at farms like they're wicked fun. My father, who was raised on one, actually gets bitter when I talk about how much I enjoy the labor.

I don't know how big the farm is (and April is upstairs and ignoring my screams) - but it's fairly large and there's a pond out back. Several barely standing barns remind us that April's grandfather used to grow tabbaca (as Mamaw Erma calls it) and the house at the front of the property guards decades of precious family memories.

I could go on and on, telling you how gorgeous this land is...but you know better. You know I have photos.

Here are Mamaw Erma, Ginny (Ape's mom) and Apes herself - posing in front of the house:


Apes being all chivalrous and carrying me through the overgrown terrain. Right. I'm lying. I totally hopped on. She had it coming:


Fun and games aside, we WERE there to mow...


I made Apes back the riding mower off the trailer. How much do you love Mamaw standing back there carrying her pocket book...can't leave those crossword puzzles behind, someone might take 'em!


Ahh...nothing like having to jump start your engine before you get to mowin'...


Clearly I THOUGHT I was alone and that April was busy trying to get the mower started...


Mamaw Erma knows every inch of this property. If I remember correctly, she gave birth several times in that house:


Awww yeah...me getting my mowin' on. I think I was listening to Harper Valley PTA:


It became clear where April's competitive nature comes from...Mamaw was not about to let me show her up:


I probably should have felt more shame about Mamaw using the push mower while I rode, but she's tough...


Big porches + blue sky + an amazing partner = a happy me:


Three generations of love and laughter:

This One's for You, Mamaw

Last weekend, Apes and I went to her hometown of Bristol, TN, to help pull off a surprise birthday party for her grandma (aka Mamaw Erma).

Mamaw Erma was turning 86 and she'd never had a surprise party before. It was time.

April's mom, Ginny, worked feverishly for months to pull this thing together. She had the brilliant idea to combine the party with a family reunion and spent countless hours tracking down kinfolk (see, there's proof I spent the weekend in the hills of TN - I said 'kinfolk').

Doing all of this behind Mamaw's back was no easy task - especially since Ginny lives with Mamaw.

Mamaw is sharp. But she's also hard of hearing, so that helped some. If the hearing aides were on the dresser, it was safe to get to the bat phone and make some calls.

After several conversations, it was decided (without my input) that April and Mamaw would go to get their hair and nails done on Saturday afternoon while Ginny and I ran around like chickens with our heads cut off buying supplies and decorating the pavilion.

Something. So. Wrong. With. This.

"You don't even know HOW to get a manicure!" I argued, sizing up April's non-existent nail beds.

When she shrugged her shoulders and said she was the best person to get Mamaw around town and to the park, I had no recourse. Well, none that made any sense.

So, that's what happened. April took Mamaw to get beautified and Ginny and I set everything up.

These pictures tell the rest - we had a blast!

The view from the top of the hill, heading down toward the pavilion:


Ape's mom, Ginny, testing out the noise makers in preparation for Mamaw's arrival:


Mamaw Erma arrives! And is very confused. She wants to know if we're aware that a bunch of her family is here...what a coincidence!


Mamaw Erma and Teri, April's sister:


Claire, Judy and Apes pose for picture 1,232:


Bindy the bubble-eating dog (and yes, I kissed her on the teeth and jowels..shut up):


April and Erin (the fiance of April's nephew, Ray):


Hailey, April's GREAT niece, getting busy with some sidewalk chalk:


Jay and Teri (April's sister and brother-in-law...at one time, Mamaw actually thought I was hitting on Jay. True story...):


Me and Hailey (and the silly string I thought was a good idea...):


Until right about THIS moment....


Once Hailey was schooled on respecting her elders and told only to aim for her friends, everything was right with the world:


One of Ape's family members dug up this old photograph of some great-great (great?) family members (that expression you see on the baby is EERILY similar to the face I make when April tries to make me hang up my clothes):


Hailey with Mamaw's cake:


Hailey terrified the big pink rose will get eaten before she has a chance to claim it:


Me recreating all of April's formative-year school pictures:


Ray, Hailey and Erin:


She's invisible. You can't see her.


Apes never walks. I have to carry her everywhere. It's exhausting.


Trying out the "baby makes three" photo :)


It was a fantastic day. I'm honored to be a part of this family.

Mamaw truly enjoyed herself:


That last picture still makes me smile.

Talk Much?

I'm going to start secretly video taping April.

So that you'uns can truly get a sense of just how, um, confused she is when it comes to speaking.

Last night as we hit the open road for our trip to Bristol, April was telling me about a situation she recently dealt with that involved several professionals from different disciplines. The situation was rather intense and I had all kinds of questions.

Her response:

"I don't know, Heather. I wasn't directly involved and there were already too many Indians in the kitchen."

"April...."

"What? Oh. I messed up again, right? Is it too many chiefs in the kitchen?"

"April...."

"What? Just tell me!"

"Too many cooks in the kitchen; Too many chiefs, not enough Indians! You've managed, yet again, to splice two phrases together."

She cracks herself up. I swear. She erupted into a fit of giggles.

Every time I think there couldn't possibly any more phrases for her to massacre, she surprises me...

good times, good times.

We are in Bristol for April's family reunion and a surprise party for her Mamaw Erma. Mamaw turns 87 and we're having a big ol' shin dig. Which reminds me...I need to make sure the stripper knows where he's going and what time to show...

Unconditional.

I completely heart my mother (pictured above with Apes).

She is the best.

It's the little things.

Like...she knows it's been a long week for April and this afternoon she called to check on her.

As I type this, April is on the back patio downloading her week and getting "take care of yourself" advice from my mom.

I know it's such a small thing, but I have many friends who would be happy if their mother or father would simply ACKNOWLEDGE their partner.

Admit they have one.

The fact my mother takes it upon herself to call April and check in on her - as she would me - means more than she'll ever know.

I love you mom.

The Problem with TIVO.

Yeah, I said it.

There's a problem with TIVO.

And you know how I love my TIVO.

I should clarify.

There's a problem with TIVO if you also have a problem with sleep-talking.

Or a girlfriend who sleep-talks.

::Picture me raising my hand in the air...waving it wildly::

'Member this?

April is absolutely re-donk-u-lous after she falls asleep. I'm wise to it now, though.

I usually ignore anything she utters if it occurs after her first snore.

I used to get sucked in...assuming that because her eyes were open and she was talking to me that it meant she was awake.

Silly me.

Last week April was passed out and I actually managed to find an episode of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit that I hadn't seen.

Halfway into the episode, a detective remarked: "These look like fresh wounds..."

From my right, I heard a noise I can only describe as a HIGHLY angry, frustrated sigh.

April kicked off the covers, buried her head in the pillow and said (with venom): "He sure says fresh a lot!"

Um. Okay.

I just stared at her. I rolled my eyes and said: "Night, Night, April."

"Night," she said, rolling over.

A few days later, a wicked storm passed through Virginia and hurled everything from hail to tornadoes our way. It was so bad that several of our friends actually slept in their closets.

I woke April up at 2am to tell her to listen to the storm.

She was very concerned. She mumbled "hurmph".

The next day, April and I were driving home from work and she couldn't wait to tell me all about the nasty storms that passed through our area. Apparently several coworkers had been talking about them and she had "no idea."

"Now wait just a minute," I said in my most authoritative tone. "I DID wake you up to share in what might have been our last moments and you could not be bothered to even talk nonsense to me."

"Oh. Well, I don't remember that."

Uh huh.

An hour or so later, April's mom called to check on us and make sure we were not affected by the storms.

April told her the whole story about how she slept through them and how I was awake and in awe of the storm.

Of course her mom wanted to know if I tried to wake and warn her.

Begrudgingly, April said yes. But I'm certain it was only because I was sitting right next to her and glaring.

Here's where the TIVO comes in.

April fell asleep and I scrolled through my PREVIOUSLY RECORDED list of shows.

I selected a program from the night before and began watching it.

Somewhere in the middle of the show, April heard the warning beep of the Emergency Alert System which just so happened to be followed by a commercial.

I began to fast forward.

"WAIT! STOP!" April yelled.

I kept fast forwarding. Not playing her sleepy-head-talky game.

"HEATHER! I WANT TO WATCH THAT!!!!"

"Watch WHAT, April?! It's a commercial!" Damn. Sucked in.

"THE STORMS!!! DO WE NEED TO RUN FOR COVER?!"

"April, these storms were from LAST NIGHT. This is TIVO!!!!"

"FINE!!! IF YOU DON'T WANT TO TELL ME WHEN OUR LIVES ARE AT RISK, THEN JUST FORGET IT! GOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!"

She rolled over and went to sleep while I sat in bed and stared at the back of her head.

Incredulous.

And that, my friends, is the problem with Tivo. And girlfriends who sleep talk.

Two Words: Head Fake

I realize that Randy Pausch's Last Lecture made it's rounds several months ago, but it's still relevant. And moving. And important.

Nine months ago, this renown professor was told he had pancreatic cancer and six months to live. He tackled the news head on and gave his famous last lecture.



Everyone from Oprah to book publishers to high school seniors have been soaking up his advice on achieving childhood dreams.

Several times over the course of this week I've been reminded of Randy's lecture - and the fact that I've never actually watched it. I'd heard it's amazing. Life changing. Funny. Raw. Humbling.

But I'd never watched it. Never had "time."

Enter my reminders:

April and I have a very close friend who just lost her mother to cancer. We watched this brave woman fight to attend a wedding and hold on for word of a possible pregnancy. She passed away May 16.

Last night, I caught a news story about Randy making a surprise appearance at Carnegie Mellon's recent commencement ceremony and the response from the audience was so overwhelming and emotional that I had to watch his lecture.

Right then.

I made April log off of ESPN and Google the lecture.

It's 76 minutes, but I swear I never noticed a single moment pass. From the second he opened his mouth, I was riveted.

He's hilarious. And bigger than life.

I'm glad I made the time to watch someone with so little of it left. He inspired me.

If you haven't seen this, I urge you to watch it.

Make the time.

PS: Have your tissues ready for the last "head fake." Watch the video and this post script will make perfect sense.

April...Queen of the Corn Balls

Yesterday afternoon....

Her: "For God's sake, Heather! Slow down! You're going to get a speeding ticket!"

Me: "I can't help it. I need to get home. I have to poop!"

Her: "You're foul."

Me: "It's true, though. I think it's a valid reason to speed."

Her (a Virginia certified police officer): "Uh-huh. You wanna know the cop's response?"

Me: "Lemme hear it."

Her: "You're shit outta luck."

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA

Have Bra, Will Travel

I've neglected Olga long enough. She's pissed.

She keeps seeing previews for the movie The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants and she's well aware those tired old jeans have nothing on her black, lacy adventures in Paris and London.

She's actually been very patient with me. In a recent letter, she wrote: "I've seen training bras fill up faster than your blogsite...."

...and she's right.

If you've missed my previous Olga blog posts, you can catch up HERE, HERE, HERE and HERE.

So, without further ado, here's the final installment of Olga's overseas adventures!

After April and I returned "home" to Mildenhall (London), we made Malinda take us to the sign marking her neighborhood. We nearly caused several accidents in the round-a-bout next to this sign...


Next, we carted Olga off to Suffolk to see the ruins at Bury St. Edmunds Abbey...


No trip would have been complete without taking Olga for a proper tea...


The pastor's wife and her brunch gang didn't seem too fond of Olga's cameo at tea time - but Olga insisted on making an indoor appearance....


Later that night, we met up with some of Malinda's pals for dinner and the moment Olga caught sight of this SMART Car, she had to prove herself the ultimate in car bras...


Who needs dice when you have Olga...


And then there's praying with Kelly. At night. They both needed all the prayers they could get...Kelly decided to keep Olga and wear her during the Paris Marathon (check out those photos HERE!)


I wish I were Olga....

Revenge. On my Tonsils.

As soon as I have a chance to take a picture of my nasty, red, swollen, grotesque tonsils, I'm SO posting it.

Far as I know, no one has ever caught oh-shit-i-feel-like-shit from a blog post.

I'm going to donate my tonsils to science.

They've done nothing but make me miserable my whole life and they deserve to be poked, prodded and dunked in some horrible chemical so they can be pinned under a glass case.

And that's how I feel.

Purity versus Blogging? Nah....

I have not lost my way and chosen a life more pure than blogging.

I've just been so damn tired at night.

And by tired, I mean - who sleeps with their work shoes on?

I also recently learned my lesson about falling asleep with your contacts in.

I'm certain I touched my brain stem trying to get my left contact out.

I'm still recovering....

Projects Schmojects.

I wish me and the poodle were still cuddled up.

But noooooooooo.

I have to be in a relationship with a woman who believes in accomplishing one project every weekend.

Since when did "catching up on sleep" lose its status as a project?

Even doctors recommend it.

This weekend's project: change out our winter and summer clothes.

I really shouldn't complain...I bitched all last week about having to wear long sleeved wool garments in 80 degree weather...

Miracles.

Small miracles are happening all around me all the time. Several occurred today and I couldn't be more happy with my life and the people in it. I don't know what I did to get so lucky, but I'm damn sure glad to be here.

Those of you who prayed to your higher power (with turkey baster in hand) - YOU may or may not be partly responsible for one of the miracles I learned about today.

You guessed it....a pregnancy was CONFIRMED at about 3:15 today!!!!

Of course, I choose to believe my blog post from yesterday and your prayers are responsible.

I'll be back later tonight with my last post about Olga...you didn't think we were DONE, did you?

H