C'est Fini

I'm done!

After 44 panels (352 linear feet -- 2250 square feet), I'm finally finished staining our fence that we built last year. Can I hear a woot?

I guess I can't take all the credit. Daughter #1 helped me with three of those panels, and Daughter #3 helped with 8. I also have to give props to one of my neighbors. Just when I was coming down the home stretch, with a bad knee and definitely losing momentum, they turned on some music. It was loud. And I liked it. It helped me get through those last 25 feet. I even found myself dancing as a I painted.

With only six feet to go, I heard some other neighbor yell, "TURN IT DOWN!" And I thought to myself, "No, please don't. I really need it." Luckily the force was with me and the music kept going as I danced my way to the finish line.

Okay, so I didn't exactly have the moves like Jagger, but I'm blaming that on the bad knee.

Dixie

Thirty-three

My son-in-law just turned 33. When I wished him a happy birthday, he didn't seem overly thrilled about getting older. I informed him that 33 was going to be the best year of his life. He looked at me skeptically, so I proceeded to explain.

When I was a young girl I remember my mother always telling me that 33 was the prime of life. According to her, that's when your body and mind are at their peak -- apparently, you'll never feel better. She was even convinced that in the resurrection, we'll all be 33!!

So, I grew up with the idea that when I turned 33 it was going to be the best year of my life. And you know what? It was. Probably just because I had told myself for so many years that it would be, so at some point I began to believe it. I think if we believe something long enough, we start acting like it's true, whether it is or not.

Well, the point is.....next month I turn 50. YIKES! I have been dreading this for a long time. But according to what I believe, I'm going about it all the wrong way. I should be telling myself that 50 is going to be the best year of my life. Since I'm getting such a late start, I'm going to have to do some pretty serious convincing to actually start believing it. So I've done what every sane person does. I've put a poster on my fridge with my latest positive affirmation.

Here's hoping it works!

Dixie

She's All Grown Up

Well, the deed is done. The Mr. and I just got back from taking Daughter #3 to Idaho to attend Brigham Young University.

How could something so exciting be so sad all at the same time? Of course by "sad" I mean sad for me. I'm really gonna miss that girl. But.....

First time to move in to your own apartment.

First time to have roommates.

First time to take a university class.

First time to cook all your own meals.

First time to do all your own grocery shopping.

First time to date college boys.

First time to purchase textbooks.

First time to..... Well, you get the idea.

How could that not be so exciting?

Obviously by the smile, this picture was taken at the beginning of the trip.

Thanks to these two for providing our "bed and breakfast" on the way down. The egg mcmuffins were delicious!

Experiencing our first IHOP meal.

Day 2: Not quite so perky.

Checking out my old apartment from 31 years ago. I think it's hilarious that once it became dilapidated, they turned it into an apartment for guys instead of girls.

Waving goodbye from her apartment door. (This picture makes her body look really funny. Actually she was holding a pillow in front of her.)

So all in all, it was pretty exciting. And a little bit sad. But mostly exciting.

Dixie

Change of Heart

I've never really cared for my mailman.

There. I said it. There's just something about him that has always bothered me. Maybe it's the fact that he walks across our lawn when he thinks I'm not watching. Maybe it's because he used a bad word in front of my daughters 15 years ago when they were delivering flyers. Maybe it's because he insinuated to said daughters that delivering flyers was beneath his dignity. Whatever it is, I decided years ago that he wasn't a likeable person.

But today something changed.

Today I heard him singing. At the top of his lungs. How could I not like that about a person? I do that myself. Okay, maybe not at the top of my lungs, but I sing in public. Often. And I like it when other people do.

So I guess I'm gonna have to give him a second chance. (I wonder if he likes show tunes.)

Dixie