[11] & [12] complimentary twofer...

Day 11:  Something people seem to compliment you on the most. 

My eyes.  Really I can’t say I’ve ever walked by a stranger and complimented their eyes, but that is what happens…so my eyes must be abnormal.  Growing up I remember people debating my eye color.  Blue.  Gray.  Green.  Hazel.  The answer is a little of all the above.

Day 12:  Something you never get compliments on.

See day [1], le man feet. 


[10] letting go and other things...

Day 10:  Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know.

Everyone that is a part of my life is there for a reason.  Truly I cannot say I have ever wished I didn’t know a person.  From my dearest of friends to Sue Silver, they each have their purpose. 

Moving on, and completely off subject…

Am I the only one that had a rough Christmas? I don't think I can go public with the exact details, but let's just say a house cannot withstand a cracked foundation. You have two options: fix it or attempt to hide the flaws...but eventually the walls will start to crumble. 

For the first time in a l-o-n-g time I was looking forward to Christmas, and then *!WHAM!* And whatever grip I had on "Christmas spirit" was lost in an instant. Last year I remember feeling so guilty for escaping Christmas and opting to travel, but it was the best Christmas the two of us ever had. Just us. And I'm going to stop feeling guilty about that. 


[9] to drift away...

Day 9:  Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted. 

My childhood best friend, Natalie.  The drifting was not natural, but sort of forced by my mother which is why I’ve always felt weird about how things ended. 

Looking back it was a pretty superficial relationship, but isn’t that what being a kid is about.  Natalie always talked about wanting to be popular kid.  A concept that was lost on me…I just wanted to have fun.  But whatever, she was my friend.  She made me laugh.  She had an Atari. She introduced me to NKOTB.  She was athletic and coordinated...two talents which I did not nor ever will posses.  

My mother blamed Natalie for my bad behavior.  She couldn’t see the behavior was due to things going on inside the house and inside myself.  Natalie was the one friend I had, and when her family moved to another neighborhood our fate was sealed after I was forbidden to use the phone. 

It’s a relationship that would have naturally drifted, but instead of going from friend to friend I had a long period of no friendships.  And for better or worse that had a huge impact of the person I was to become.  My mother did what she thought was best, but for a long time I was a terribly sad and lonely little girl.  And I guess this may seem strange, but when I think back to that little girl I just feel really sorry for her…even though I recognize it’s a part of what made me…I hate that she missed out on the joys of being a kid.


[8] name the devil...

Day 8:  Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like poop.

Jane Garitowitz.

Kidding.  If you are Jane Garitowitz, sorry for using your name.  But I fully believe we make our own lives hell.  Sure there are some nasty people that say nasty things, but it’s how we chose to deal with the nasty. 

Story time.  I remember sitting in high school math class my freshman year and this girl, I’ll call her Sue Silver, started whispering my name and saying nasty things.  Up until that day I had never met Sue Silver.  I knew her name, but had never spoken to her or of her…ever.  And suddenly she’s saying nasty things.  So I speak up dumbfounded and ask who she is, trying to point out we don’t know each other. 

I couldn’t have even told you who her friends were.  (Let’s face it, my world revolved around church.  I was not allowed to go to the houses of kids parents my mother didn’t know, so that limited my friends to church.)  The nasty continues.  Again, dumfounded I tell her I think she has the wrong Heather. 

The nasty escalates, and at this point I’m at a complete loss-my patience is thin-and I’ve about had enough.  I’m ready to get up and bust some chops…in the middle of math class, so instead I start slamming my fist of my desk.  And that is when the teacher, after hearing the nasty continue for the last 30-minutes finally steps in and says enough…right as the bell rings.

We leave.  There is no rumble in the hallway.  The next day in class nothing.  Not a damn thing.  I can only assume that she figured out she had the wrong Heather, and she was just too embarrassed to admit her mistake.  A couple years later I found myself in the same class as Sue Silver once again.  About half way into the semester she asked if I was still mad at her.  And still as dumbfounded as the first day she uttered my name I shook my head no and shrugged my shoulders. 

To this day I have no clue what that was about.  But that is my memory of Sue Silver.  It was one day of hell.  One day of being treated like poop.  And I have never forgotten.  Never stopped wondering why. 

Sure, other "people" have made my life hell. That was until I realized it's my own actions and reactions that created that hell.  It's my choice to take the road that leads to that hell or about-face. Sometimes the about-face is really easy.  Sometimes I apparently need to revisit that hell to remind myself it's not a fun place. 

There is a song by Company of Thieves called "Oscar Wilde" that sums it up well...'we are all our own devil, and we make this world our hell'. 


[7] living for...

Day 7:  Someone who has made your life worth living for.

Ew.  So basically if said person did not exist, life would not be worth living.  That’s just ridonkulous!

There was a point a few years ago when I just wanted to {warning computer-nerd speak} Ctrl-Alt-Delete my life.  Just to go somewhere no one knew of me and start over.  Not that I would have done that, but I certainly reached the point of understanding why some people take that path.  But it was my husband that kept me grounded, and loved me through that difficult time.

That’s not to say I couldn’t live without him, but I’m not certain where I would be without his love.


[6] refusing to tempt fate...

Day 6:  Something you hope you never have to do.

Let’s not tempt fate.

Moving on…how about some photos from our last vacation instead!

The trip in which I saw my first cactus.

The trip in which we watched 500 hot air balloons take off within 120 minutes. 

 The trip in which took our breath away.

 The trip in which we drove The Mother Road.

 The trip in which we appreciated the old and run down.

 The trip in which left us refreshed.

And fully ready to welcome our 7th anniversary.

Thank God for this trip.
And my wonderful husband & his mad driving skills.
These crazy road trips bring us so much joy.
It made us think...
maybe one day when things settle and we retire,
we'll be that crazy old couple
that travels the country in their RV.
God only knows...and he's not telling!


[5] life hopes...

Day 5:  Something you hope to do in your life.   

I don't really have an exact answer.  I honestly just hope to live life to its fullest.  Every thing.  Every experience.  Being present in every moment.  Including the not-so-pleasant stuff.  So I guess that is my life hope, to just be present.  To let things sink in, to give myself the freedom to feel and process situations before reacting.


[4] forgiving the man...

Day 4:  Something you have to forgive someone for.

Interesting.  I guess ten years ago this would turn into one of those he/she [insert terrible thing] to me, but now I see those “terrible things” as opportunities.  Instead of pointing fingers I start by asking myself why I feel so passionately about the “terrible thing”.  And always…no really – Every. Single. Time.  My passion has nothing to do with the person or the thing, but everything to do with something inside of my own self.

So the real questions is, how can you not forgive someone for giving you the opportunity to grow…

That’s not to say that I don’t have those moments that I’m filled with so much anger and frustration I could easily breathe fire.   It’s those moments that it’s especially hard to get to that place where you can be objective.  And sometimes it’s best to remove yourself from the situation as far as possible in order to reach that place.  And yes, some relationships have fallen apart because of that self exile.  But I know in my heart if that relationship is meant to exist, it will.  And if not, it won’t. 

Some soul mates lift us up.  Others push us into the fire.  It's in the balance of the two that we find grace. 


[3] self forgiven...

Day 3:  Something you have to forgive yourself for.

Interesting.  I got nothing.  Things happen that lead you places and without them I wouldn’t be where I am today.  I mean I can look back and say I wish I had done some things differently.  Trust me I had my angry years in high school. I handled what was going on at home by taking it out on the world.  Sorry world.  But it was a necessary evil.


[2] self loving...

Day 2:  Something you love about yourself.  

Well, first off I’ll say it’s much easier to hate on yourself.  I can think of about 20-self hates off the top of my head, but something I love…

I guess I love my ability to be creative, but I’m always doubting my own creativity.  It’s a very rare occasion that I can look at something and think it’s awesome just as it is.  I feel like in everything and every way possible I’m constantly challenging myself to change and grow and improve.  That isn’t to say that I don’t live in the moment and appreciate what I have…I just know there is, and always will be room for improvement until the day I die.

Superficially, I like my skin tone.  Okay, I love it.  I said it.  I’m pale milky white and I love it that way.  Which for a white chick…in the age of spray tans, fake-n-bakes and self-tanning products that span the globe, seems to be pretty rare.  Of course, twice a year I equally hate it when I forget sunscreen and turn into a tomato and get left with a nasty farmer’s tan.  My last burn I was wearing a scoop neck with a sort of keyhole cutout…I’m still trying to exfoliate the resulting sudo-tan before holiday party season!


[1] refreshing beginning...

I’ve been in hiding lately and I’m not sure why.  For a while I felt overexposed.  Which seems ridiculous for someone that does this sort of thing, but something that brings me joy started creating fear. What if someone found me, and what if someone took the things I wrote the wrong way, and what if they spread that around, and what if others took that someone’s opinion as fact.  Irrational? Yes, absolutely.  In truth, that has already happened and happens every day and it’s silly to think writing or not writing would hinder the fire.  So I say, flame freaking on dude!

The fact is I turned thirty this month.  And I guess some people have a difficult time.  I can’t say I am one, but I have had odd thoughts whisk in and out of my head. So while I go through this 30 mini-funk, I thought it would be a good time to start the “30 Days of Truth” prompts I’ve been seeing around.  I’ll be honest some of the prompts are pretty stupid, but it will be an interesting way to force me out of hiding.  And then in 2-3 years I can look back and think who was that person.

Day 1: Something you hate about yourself.

The superficial answer would be my feet.  I grew up with my mother telling me I had my dad’s feet.  And that translated into a girl having boy feet.  And boy feet are yucky.  So I wear open-toed nothing.  I am probably the only chick in the state that doesn’t own a pair of flip-flops.  And no matter how many times my girlfriends tell me I don’t have man-feet I’ll never believe them.

But my true answer would be I hate that I’m not very complimentary.  I get complemented on my looks, my eyes, my outfits, my shoes…but I just don’t think to compliment others.  The only reasoning that I can come up with is that I don’t value superficial things.  I mean it’s nice to be told you are beautiful, but that’s just make-up and hair dye.  My eyes are genetics.  My outfit is money.  My shoes are to hide my vertical deficiency.

I guess one could argue that your exterior is simply a reflection of the internal, but I much prefer someone to compliment my heart or depth or creativity.  And those are things you cannot gain from a quick glance.  I mean really who walks by someone and says “my, what a big heart you have”.  My first thought would be that person is looking for a transplant donor.

That being said I have made it a point to be more complimentary.  When I see someone wearing a cute pair of shoes, instead of just thinking it I try to vocalize…when appropriate.  I’m not going to knock on the bathroom stall mid-flush just to tell the lady next to me I like her shoes.


Just call me Susie-Homemaker...

Saturday we'll be showering a baby and celebrating the soon-to-be arrival of my niece, Brooklynn.  I wanted to make something special.  My grandmother made all my dresses when I was a little girl and I l-o-v-e-d it!  So, of course, I decided to sew...something.  Um, remember I just started sewing last year (as in December) so I'm not all that talented.  I found a simple enough looking pattern.  And I was maybe a little too excited that it was made for French seams!

The first is an ever so slightly modified pillowcase dress.  It was actually really easy.

Not bad.  Then, I decided to challenge myself.  I found a really cute tutorial for Ruffle-butt Onesies.  So yeah, ruffles and I have not yet made friends.  Making the ruffles, no problem.  Sewing the ruffles to a onesie, serious PROBLEM!  I just could not get the ruffles to stay in place while sewing (not even pinning helped) and a crooked ruffled-butt is not okay.

So back to the pillowcase dress I went.  And challenged myself by modifying the patter even MORE.
Brooklynn Inspierd

And I added a bow on the back to help give the dress a little more form.

Okay {self-promotion} I'm really proud of the peak-a-boo front.  And and little {self-depreciation} if you really look at the final products, the seams are messy and don't aline perfectly but these dresses are sized 6mo & 9mo...Brooklynn will never know the difference!

Dear Brooklynn - 
I will continue the quest and conquer the ruffle-butted onesie.  
...I just hope it's before you outgrow onsie wear!
Love, Auntie Heather


Patty cake, patty cake...

I am not a baker, but I have conquered the muffin.
That's right these Orange-Cranberry mini-Muffins are homemade!
If you look close, you can see little bits of orange zest that look like little sprinkles...
because that's is as close as I'll ever get to actual sprinkles.
And because this weeks produce pack included free blueberries, 
I'll soon be conquering the blueberry beast! 

And...because I was thinking of this the entire time I was baking my muffin{s}, the lovely Betty White:


Dreaming of my favorite highway...

Today, more than ever, I find myself craving the west coast.
Maybe it's the weather...hot, humid, miserable.
But I want nothing more than to go back and see the sites.

To walk among giants.

To seemingly drive off the edge of the earth.

To be left breathless.

To sit here...forever.

And thank the artist who created it all.


What happens when you listen...

This afternoon I took a leisurely lunch with my dear friend, Cheryl. We were celebrating her birthday mother’s day. Chatting and enjoying each other’s company as always. While exiting the restaurant Cheryl noticed a large SUV backing up dangerously close to another car, so she waved the driver down to warn him. A moment not-so different from those Liberty Mutual commercials.
At some point the SUV actually hits the car causing it to move. And like anyone would do, we’re left dumbfounded thinking is the dude going to leave a note. What if that was my car. But we continue on through the parking lot wrapping up our conversation and saying our goodbyes Occasionally looking back as a young man exits the vehicle and his father attempts to back out, but because there is a large moving truck parked behind them they cannot get out of the space.
As the older gentleman exits, he yells at us frustrated “is this your car – this is not your car, move on you (#!?%#) nosey white people - mind your own (#!?%#) business.” And Cheryl and I looked at each other shocked. Flabbergasted. We were just talking to each other not too concerned with what was happening. Cheryl actually stopped the young man from causing serious damage to the other car. We were being. Nice.
And I of course do what I always do. Cry. Because in spite of my tough faux brick exterior, I am incredibly tenderhearted. For real...I'd make a great filet mignon! All I could think is {this} is exactly what is wrong with the world today. I looked at Cheryl and just said at some point that man must have been really hurt by a white person...he just needs a hug. Just like when a “Christian” does something terrible to another person and that person’s opinion towards the church is forever changed.
And you know what happened...eventually, the guy walked up to us and thanked us. And I told him his white people comment upset me. I told him what I told Cheryl (minus the Christian comment). And he looked at me and said, “you know I do need a hug.” So I gave him a hug. A real hug. And we had a conversation. And we listened.
Now, what I didn’t say is that this was a black man. And we are the two whitest women you have ever seen. Probably pushing towards neon white. (And the color of our shell is only a big deal because this is the south.) What I didn’t way is that this was a thugged out, pants-on-the-ground black man. What I didn’t say is after the hug, he looked as us and said, “ya’ll must be church people.” And what I didn’t say is that Cheryl and I just smiled at one another and shook our heads no.
What I didn’t say is that I have had several “Christians” tell am not one.
We may not go to church, but church certainly finds us. Every day. In the way we treat one another. In the way we love. In the way we pray. God is not found in a brick & mortar building. He is found after an earthquake or a hurricane. He is found in the way we love. In the way we give. And the way we listen.
I wonder what would happen if we all stopped talking so much and just listened. Because the thing is those words he yelled were not about us, but his own pain surfacing. And today I just so happened to be the one listening vs. the one yelling. And maybe...just maybe the next time he sees a couple of white women he'll remember that we don't all clutch onto our purses for dear life when we share an elevator with a black man.


The legacy of Eva Dien.

I had a moment last night.
I wrote this regarding love.
And then today I read an article on CNN
about the vibrant red-headed
{Eva Dien Brine Markvoort}
and 65 (red) roses...or cystic fibrosis.
As I read through her blog
I came upon
her farewell video...

Eva passed away the morning of March 27th.

"The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return."
-Christian, from the movie Moulin Rouge


To never waste time...

I read this article last week.  It made me think.  Don’t we all have moments where we forget about the mirror?  We point at another religion…or person…and call them wicked and evil.  But we forget that whatever it is we are pointing at is our very own reflection.  Because the truth is if Franklin Graham actually sat down with a true leader of Islam, more similarities would be found than differences.

Isn’t that true of all of us.  We all have been hurt.  We all have been tested.  And we all overcome.  And at some point, we all have failed.  But the point is we all keep moving forward.  We all work toward an improved sense of self.  The circumstances may be slightly different…we may name call our higher being by a different name, but our similarities lie within our souls and that soul’s ability to love.

I realize that what is right in my life may not be for another, so pointing out something as wrong or wicked or evil is a waste of time.  But to love.  Show love.  Be loved.  That is time never wasted.


Bringing home baby...

{this} bundle of little boy kitten cuteness arrived Saturday...

Seven has been adjusting very well.
No puffy-tailed growling hissing fits.
Okay, a little hissing may have been involved...
but it's more of a 'know your place little-bit' kind of hiss.
She just sits back and surveys.

And he just plays...

And gets into precarious situations...

His name is {Dexter}, we think.
I have a little hesitation because I do enjoy the show Dexter,
but a serial killer with a "moral code" he is not.
And considering his litter box routine...
Bulldozer may be more fitting!
Only time will tell.

I still shed tears for my Snuggles.
It's been hard.
There are moments where he will make a face
or flip his tail
or make a noise
and remind me completely of her.
Ragdoll personalities are so similar to Himalayans.
That is what we wanted.
My Snuggles could never be replaced,
but I feel my heart opening and making room for this little boy.


A break away...

It's not a very pretty city from a distance,
but when you look at the details
New Orleans
is lovely...

the Garden District was a favorite

the French Quarter street players were full of spirit

and sometime the French Quarter exteriors were like butter

and thankfully we were able to experience a parade
New Orleans

and walk away with some beads
(that we didn't pay for with money or wobbly bits)

Truly an amazing city.
And another one that I'm glad we experienced before kids.



This past weekend I attended a work-related networking event for meeting planners.
Lots of talking.
Lots of eating.
And drinking.
And talking.
And eating.

This was the amenity that awaited when I returned to my hotel room the final night.
Did I happen to mention eating?
I was so full of food and drinks that I didn't even manage a bite.
Not even a sip of the Disoronno or Bailey's...
it sure looked good though!


Finding reasons to laugh...

I need to write something happy.  Silly.  Something to get over the hump of sadness I have been feeling this last month.  A couple snippets from today…

I dropped off my car for repairs this morning and was given a rental car.  Went to work and my brain turned into mush.  Left work…er, tried to leave work.  I could not remember what kind of car they gave me.  And worse…no clue where I parked.  Finally, I realized I had kept the paperwork in my bag and learned it was a Silver-Honda- Accord.  Do you know how many silver cars there are!?  Do you know how many Silver-Accords there are!?  Not fun.
On the way home, I came across a wreck.  Actually it was just a broken down car, one nice dude helping broken-down dude push his car to the side of the road.  But nice dude forgot a belt.  As he was pushing, imagine it, pants meet knees.  {hello whitey-tighties}  I swear I have never laughed so hard while stopped at an intersection!

But the thing is, the tighties were not very whitey.  So I get home and ask Fred, do whitey-tighties come in nude…he doesn’t wear them – but being male I assume he knows these things.  I learn they come in black, white and colors like the Michael Jordan commercials.  And well, I have concluded that nice dude’s undies were well worn in…especially given I could see butt crack through the near mesh fabric.  Hey, maybe nice dude is just taking going green to the extreme.  But I can pretty much guarantee two things: 1. he’s not gay, and 2. he’s not married!


When hope belittles intuition...

we were fully prepared
to let go
then the vet gave us
it’s just a badly infected tooth
remove it and she’ll be back to normal
my intuition told me it was time
to let go
but I held on to
hours later the vet called back
the news was
not good
nothing could prepare me
for the way she 
the vet had never seen an animal
react to anesthesia that way
but once again the vet gave us
maybe once we got her home
she would fully wake
but as she was placed in the pet carrier
her heart
and her color
and I stopped ignoring my intuition
I told the vet it that she had been through enough
it was time
to let Snuggles go

it was not suppose to happen
that way
I wanted her passing to be
I had it planned
I was prepared
but I forgot about the way
can sometimes create
so much

every day
I cry
bed time is the worst
my arms have never
so empty
then I awake
to my daily routine
and listen as Seven
goes around the house
howling and searching for her
Mama Snugs

and in spite of having
a house full
of beings
we all are feeling
a little

and I know
it's just a cat
but to me
she was 
a part of
my heart.


Slowly letting go...

At times like these, when babies like Layla Grace are dying. It’s hard to think that in the scheme of all things this is significant, but tomorrow Fred and I will be taking my sweet little Snuggles to the vet.  To be put down.  To sleep.  To euthanize.  There is not a phrase that exists to make it better.

Late last year she lost her sight and the vet discovered a significant heart murmur.  Mr. Vet said they could do a bunch of tests and we could pay them $1,000.  I said no.  I love that cat with all my heart.  But at the time she was fifteen, and I didn’t want to put her through the stress and rather painful tests just to maybe…but probably not, extend her life by a year or two.  

I have had this cat since I was thirteen.  Thirteen now going on thirty.  And when I consider that span of time.  Where I was.  Who I was.  This cat was truly there during the more significant years that molded me into the person I am today.  She was my Mama Snugs.  She gave me her love and her heart.  And I want nothing more for her to find peace and know she did her job well.

Since that vet visit she has never acted as though she was in pain.  That was all that mattered.  She has been happy, purry and pain-free.  Right now she is very weak.  Not eating or drinking.  Her breathing is faint and her heart is giving out.  I would much rather her passing come in the night.  At home and peaceful.  That is all I have ever wanted since we found out her health was failing.  She gave me so much.  She deserves to pass in comfort.  And I pray that she finds that peace tonight. 


How a week disappears...

Writing usually comes easily,
but this week...
I have simply been lost in emotions.
My beloved {Grandaddy} passed away.
I'm still processing...


Valentine's Day is only cool if you have kids...

Tami & David decided to spend time in Atlanta
for Valentine's Day.
They even gave us a little Valentine's card...

Did you know they don't make envelopes for little kiddie Valentine's cards?!
I remember spending hours stuffing, licking and name writing.
Kids get off wayyyyy too easy now days...
probably because their parents now do it for them.

Oh, but wait
this was no ordinary Valentine...

Yes, it says...
Auntie Heather!!!

We're going to be Auntie & Uncle!

And yes, for the white people, that's the Filipino style Auntie...

vs. the white people version ANT.


The purest of love...

 Takes a while to load, but it's worth it...

Last Minutes with ODEN from phos pictures on Vimeo.


Why I don't bake...

This week in getting creative I decided to bake a peach dump cake.  I should note that I do not like sweets.  I like chocolate.  The bitter-sweet kind.  The darker the better.  So, I should have known the outcome of this recipe before I even started...

(2) 13 oz jars of sliced peaches in light syrup
1 package yellow cake mix
1 stick butter (1/2 cup), cut into 16 pieces
1 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup chopped pecans

Nope.  It didn't even occur that maybe, just maybe a full cup of brown sugar was possibly an {insane} amount of sugar.  Because I rarely never bake.  I just thought surly the creator of this recipe knows what they are doing. 

I took one bite.  
Then another to confirm.
Needless to say...
it was disgusting.

I took a picture because it looked so pretty.
O, how deceiving those looks!


A refreshing close...

Last week I went to dinner with a dear old friend.  An old friend that became a sort of growth catalyst, and I find myself wondering without her would I have noticed the things that needed improvement.  For the first time, I was able to speak freely and comfortably and just simply be authentic.

She set me on the path.  Her words led to my discovery.  I’m sure she never thought twice of those five words, but they motivated me to seek out an answer.  And over twelve years later it was finally discovered.  Maybe the real cataclysmic event occurred a couple of years ago... but she lit the match that started the fire.

Five words.  Something so small.  Simple.  Meaningless.  May forever change a person’s life.  We will never know how we impact each other’s lives, but we do it daily.

And the reward, years later, is to complete the circle by thanking her for the impact she had on my life.  My husband's life.  And our future children's lives.


Where beauty lies...

After watching BBCs Perfect Private Parts last week, I needed a lift...this video did just the trick!


Freaking old people...

So "Grumpy" next door puts a bright light in her patio sensor light...we're talking spotlight style.  The kind that turns night into day.  The kind that makes it difficult for Fred to fall asleep because the sensor is crazy sensitive and constantly flashing on/off.  All.  Night.  Long.

Fred's runs into Grumps and is all can you please adjust the sensor setting so it's less sensitive - and she's all I want keep sensitive for safety - and Fred's all well can you at least change to a soft bulb - and she's all I'm not paying for a new bulb - and Fred's all I'll buy one and put it in for you - and she's all but I want it bright for safety - and Fred's all HOA guidelines specify soft bulbs be used outdoors and it really makes it hard to fall asleep when a bright light keeps turning on - and she's all grump, grump, well you need to buy better drapes (raising her voice) grump-grumpity-grump - and Fred's all okay lady you can stop talking now I'm done talking to you, I tried to be nice but the conversation is over.

Yes, you read that correct Gumpy-old-lady wants us to spend over $100 on new drapes (black out, double curtain rod and sheers so we can let in daylight) because she will not follow the rules.  We really tried to be nice.  Even offering to spend the 3-bones on a new light AND install it, but she’s just the kind of person that will not be happy unless she gets her way.

The HOA will be sending her a violation letter…to which she will ignore…and be even more grumpy.  And you seriously have to wonder, if we just snuck over and replaced the bulb ourselves instead of attempting to be nice...would she have even noticed?

P.S.  This is the same woman that complains that her kids never visit...I know you find that fact just SHOCKING right!?