I Smell a RAT!!!

On the Hunt

I am not a fan of rodents.  As a teen in Minnesota, I have squeamish filled memories of sleeping at my Grandfather's house.  I would wake up at night with little rodents in my hair . . . dancing on my pillows . . . and leaving little mouse-like gifts (poop) behind.  They ran across the clothing bar and dropped "gifts" on my clothes.  I REALLY didn't like those creatures!!!

But that was in Minnesota!!!  These are NOT issues in California . . . until 4:00 this morning.  

BANG!    CLUNK, CLUNK, squeek!!     BANG!     THUD!!

What the heck is going on?  I reach over and turn on the light.  Our extremely vocal Siamese is toying with the largest mouse I have seen in California.  SIDE NOTE:  Mice and Deer breed much smaller, here, than in Minnesota.

I yell at the cat to get that THING out of here!  He drops the mouse and it scurries under the dresser.  I leap from my bed . . . CRAP!  I'm clothes-free due to the hives I was experiencing last night!!!  UGH!  My PJs are on the floor with the furry things!!!  I lunge towards the closet and grab my housecoat . . . while the mouse races to hide under my feet!  I scream (not one of my finer moments)!!! NOBODY comes to see what is happening . . . my other family members are heavy sleepers, le sigh.  

I dive back onto the bed.  I yell at the CAT several more times to get the mouse.  But this is no stupid mouse.  She scurries under the bed.

I jump back down and grab my shoes for toe protection.  Then I remove the drawers from under the bed while yelling for the cat to come back . . . apparently, he's over it.  He left the room.  

I grab a broom, dust pan, and flashlight.  Under the bed . . . a nest of baby mice . . . EEP!!!  I'm having rodent flashbacks!!!

The mouse is hiding by the wall and I can't reach her.  SO, I go after the cat!  He hisses as I drag his kitty butt back to my bedroom.  I toss him in and shut the door.  Mrs. Mouse is nowhere to be found.

I move all the under-bed drawers, the night stands and the clothes hamper.  I see a blur . . . CRAP!  She entered the bottom of the clothes hamper!  I attempt to move it out of the room but it's laundry day so it's FULL UP!

It is now 5am and I have been chasing this mouse for an hour while the cat keeps looking in the last place he saw it and NOT where it is now.  For a predator, he dropped a few notches in my book.  STUPID CAT!!!

I leave the room with the cat locked inside and go the the guest room.  My brain is going 100 miles an hour and I can't sleep.  As I ponder my next move, I hear a THUMP!  

With a sigh of frustration; and after an aggravated text to the OUT OF TOWN hubby, I head back in.  The cat and I corner the mouse and I scoop it up with a dust pan.  As I head out the bedroom door, SUPER NINJA MOUSE leaps off the dustpan and lands IN MY DRAWER of clothes.  I scream again . . . but the dead still slumber.

I dig through my clothes . . . yep, there is going to be extra laundry on the agenda this weekend.  As I turn to grab the dust bin the mouse leaps again.  It figures . . . I am blessed with some kind of ENERGIZER RODENT.  The cat sees it and corners it again.  I scoop up the mouse, and run for the back door.  

She's doing a lot of squeaking as I have her squished between the dustpan and broom.  I lob her over the fence and give a big shiver.  Now to tend to those babies. . . 

One Photo at a Time

How LuLaRoe is Changing my Life - One Photo at a Time

   There was a time in my life when getting out of bed was a challenge.  I wasn't embracing my new, older body; and I was definitely not thrilled with all this white hair.  Sure, I could dye it - and I tried, but the three day migraines from the chemicals just wasn't worth it!
  My 'go to' outfit each day consisted of yoga pants, t-shirt and hooded sweatshirt.  Who did I need to look pretty for?  It's not like I had a job.  Being a house wife was great when I had kids, but they all grew up and there was no longer any daily adventures.
   What changed?


   Six months ago, I was introduced to these fantastic clothes - they were comfortable, stretchy, flexible, casual, dressy,  . . .  and I loved them!!!  Within two weeks, I was no longer in those yoga pants and t-shirts.  I was wearing dresses with leggings and perfect strangers at the stores were coming up to me and complimenting my outfits.
   With my new confidence, I ran back to my supplier and signed up to sell this stuff too.  LuLaRoe . . . simply comfortable.  It was their tag line, but it was one I could get behind.  And I started my six weeks of training as part of a fantastic group of supportive and positive women.  Who know they were even out there?

   I became a LuLaRoe Consultant, and in eight weeks, I completed every challenge my trainers and coaches put out there. The biggest one was to get in the clothes and post pictures on Instagram and Facebook.  Yikes!!!  I'm not a model and I sure ain't skinny anymore.  But, I was all-in!!!
   What I learned?  Picking a new outfit to post everyday became a challenge in style.  I learned what items looked best together and I learned to pattern mix like a pro.  Sure, I had some flop outfits but they are few and far between these days.
   I learned that I look great in just about every style LuLaRoe has to offer.  It's all about the pairing and whether I tuck it in or leave it out.
   I learned that my white hair looks great in the sunlight!  And it doesn't bother me anymore because my Instagram followers have left me enough compliments that I feel GREAT!!!
   So now my pictures are more than me standing in the corner and smiling.  I am finding playful ways to show the clothes.  Yes, I come off as a tad quirky . . . but that's OK!!! I am quirky and I am sharing that with my customers - connecting with them one photo at a time!!!
 

Fading Maturity

Dear Diary,

I am a mature adult!  I think. . .  So how is it that I just got sucked into a new walking game?  I'm thinking my FitBit became a little too boring and all my friends that I started walking with have "broken" theirs.  So, out comes the phone and on comes the App called PokemonGo!  What happens next?  Well, the game has a map of wherever I happen to be.  Creepy much?  I found it quite impressive.  So, I was at home walking in my neighborhood.  I was getting more Poke Balls at a maze near my home (otherwise known as a Poke Stop) and there were three other people on the street.  I assume we were all doing the same thing - reloading our game.  All four of us were staring at our phone like the total geeks that we are!  Then my walking buddy (daughter) and I realized Pikachu was nearby.  We immediately started tracking him.  Because who doesn't want a Pikachu, right?  We realized the guy at the Poke Stop started following us.  We giggled.  Yep, my maturity is down the tubes!  I have lost all common sense.  BUT I am out on my feet walking around.  So, my take is PokemonGo has found a way to get the gaming geeks out into a public area and some may even talk to each other as they try to 'catch them all'.  Side note:  It is truly unfair to put all the good stuff out on the sundial bridge in Redding, CA!  We were traveling and made a stop to cross this cool bridge.  I will mention the thing is made of glass.  My vertigo would not allow me to cross it.  So, no refills in Redding for me.  That is just so wrong!

A Very Special House

Dear Diary,

For as long as I can remember, my grandparent's home has existed. It was white, yellow, turquoise, and maybe even some other colors during its tenure.  In a childhood where I never really felt stable, that house was always a place I felt welcomed and unconditionally loved.  It was my place of stability.  After hearing of the remodel (that I was OK with) and seeing a picture that it was razed (I was in tears), I felt my tummy flip around a bit and really melted down.  As usual, my rock (otherwise known as my husband) reminded me that this is just a place that held many good memories.  Those memories are still there.  I

struggled a bit with that thought, even though I knew he was right.  Then something amazing happened (I hate those ads on Facebook that say this, but I couldn't think of a better segue).

I recently lost my dad to cancer (thats not the amazing part). . .and had a burning need to do something that would make a difference.  I'm just made that way.  I need to do things big, perfect, special, etc.  I tend to over-do everything. . .I think it may even be a family joke.  So, I joined the local Relay for Life.  I created a team of one (myself) and vowed to raise $500 (as my first year at this) and went forward with all my enthusiasm.  Lots of tears were spilled as I went through the process over these last several months.  When I thought I would fail, the other team leaders would hug me and cheer me on.  I felt so taken care of by these strangers I was working with.

I walked a marathon on the weekend of my event.  I sold medals encouraging others to walk a 5K.  I had a booth that gave $100 away to the winner of my fundraising game.  And as I watched my progress approach $500, I was thrilled.  I posted to Facebook that I was close to my goal and both my daughter and sister (from Minnesota, I'm in California) added donations that took me over $500.  I sobbed and gasped as I began to realize what I had.  That day continued on. . .and my fundraising went to $750. . .then $950. . .and I couldn't help but realize that the people that were getting my numbers up so high were the same ones that I met in that very special house.  The people that I grew up around.  The ones I loved unconditionally and now realize they loved me the same way.  So as I am now at $1025 in fundraising, I can honestly say that it wasn't the house that kept me stable.  It was the people that were in it.  The ones that will follow my crazy antics on Facebook and laugh or cry with me, as needed.  Because it's my family that keeps me stable. . .not the house.   Don't get me wrong, I will miss that house, but I've had a much bigger epiphany and I am so grateful for it.

My Vote Counted! Did Yours?

Dear Diary,

I know!  I know it's been a while.  Today, I just need a place to vent.  Here is my experience at the California primary election.  My hubby, a registered democrat, went straight through, got his cards and voted.  Myself, I'm registered as independent.  I get halted at the card station and am told to chose one of five selections.  I was unaware this would happen.  I ask what the difference of each voting choice was and was told I had to choose one and they couldn't influence me by describing anything.  Color me stunned. . .I may as well roll a five-sided-die and see what I get (that was for my gamer kids).  After my refusal to select randomly, one of the ladies turns the five different cards around for me to "accidentally" look at them.  I point to the one that has my candidate on it (and YES, it was Bernie) and say I choose that one.  I am told I must state verbally this choice that I want.  I guess pointing was too general?  I have no clue what to call this choice I needed to make . . . damn those Math and Engineering degrees.  I should have taken English or some other form of Communications.  So, the nice lady points to a location that lists all the possible voters for each card.  I then look at the card I want, find the magic set of words that matches the set of words in that list of five choices I was expected to choose from.  Then the lady tells me I must state exactly what I want.  The words had so little meaning to me, I can't even remember today what they were, but I finally got my card and was able to step up the to voting station.  Meanwhile, the hubby had finished.  Who knew being independent would be such a struggle?  I've never had an experience like this in all the years I have voted.  So tell me, what if I hadn't had someone willing to go the distance to help me out?  What if I had accepted my crap shoot of a card based of the roll of the die?  What if I wasn't strong willed enough to demand that card I wanted?  What if I spoke limited English?  Now, tell me, do you think some votes were lost for my candidate of choice?  I don't doubt it one tiny bit!

Clothing Purge Recommended

Dear Diary,

I am feeling quite accomplished, today.  I am all caught up on laundry.  You would think that only having to do laundry for two (the hubby and I), now that all our kids have grown up, this would be an easy task.  Nope, nope, nope!  My laundry loads just keep growing bigger and bigger.
If our mountain bike gear didn't stink so bad already, I'd make us wear it twice before washing it.  I mean, we only wear those clothes for a couple hours each time.  I know my tush would complain dearly if we got rid of our bike chamois.  That option is out.
Then there is the running gear.  New sport, new gear, right!?!  We only wear that for an hour, max!  I'm going though a gallon of vinegar a month just to keep all this stuff fresh smelling.  Maybe we should just get rid of our regular clothing and live in our sports gear.  Just saying. . .

Coyote Run

Dear Diary,

I hate making my body go running, but I sure do love how I feel after I run.  Shouldn't these feelings be on the same wavelength?  My run, today, was a bit of an adventure.  I, typically, walk an old Army track to warm up before I hit the trails.  Today, there was a young coyote chasing gophers at the track.  I was thrilled and pointed him out to some hikers that were heading out.  I watched the coyote leave on the trail to the right, so I opted to cross the road and run the trail that went left.  That should keep me away from his path.  WRONG!  After a couple minutes of running, I came across a young coyote in the path.  I slowed to a walk and he turned towards me in curiosity and held his position.  He looked like the little guy I had seen earlier.  Why isn't he running away?  Sigh.  I guess the trails are his, today.  I beat feet back to the pavement.  As I looked back, he was loping casually behind me.  My heart rate shot up but I forced myself to a walk so he didn't think I was worth chasing and after a couple minutes he disappeared.  I was so relieved.  I continued my workout doing out and backs from my car.  Every girl needs an escape plan, right?  After all, that little coyote was only about a quarter mile from the parking lot.  Meanwhile, I got a new Personal Record on my run.  I'll take it.