White fluffs

My floor is scattered with these white fluffs. It looks like my children have been shredding cotton balls and leaving a trail like Hansel and Gretal. I gently cup my hand and begin to gather up these "crumbs" that litter my floor. My hand quickly filled with the stuffing's of an incredibly soft fluff. I quickly throw it away and start again. This is a daily occurrence in my life. Why not vacuum you ask? Because I just finished vacuuming moments ago.

As many of you already know, I have a Siberian Husky and it is the time of year when she "blows her coat." It's more of a blizzard then a blow but thankfully it only happens twice a year. I knew what I was getting into when we purchased this breed...however, I was unaware of how many vacuum bags I would go through. We moved to the East Coast this past summer from the Northwest. Sasha (our dog) would shed a few chunks all year round (in the mild rainy weather) and I would complain about the mess. Little did I know that hot humid weather would make her look like a buffalo. These little white tufts that litter my floor are nothing compared to the sheets of fur that can be removed with one gentle tug.

Yesterday was the perfect example of the life of a husky owner. My husband lumbered into the house after a long day of work and stopped at the entry way. "It looks like a bunny blew up in our home!", he exclaimed. I looked around our living room and started to chuckle. White fluffs were everywhere...the Easter bunny would have been nervous. He was right...it was a mess. We both looked at Sasha who had white tufts parachuting out of her coat. As my husband sat down to remove his shoes, he was attacked by the Dust Huskies that scooted out from under the chair. "I swear that I just vacuumed.", I yelled in my defense.

Time to make an appointment with the groomer. I'd have to make sure that they had plenty of garbage can liners for when she arrived. This was a job that I was not volunteering for.

Stanley Cup Finals

I am ashamed to say that I am a week over due in posting my amazing week. Better late then never.

I was honored to get tickets to the first home game (3rd Stanley Cup Final Game) of the Boston Bruins Stanley Cup Finals. As my son's vice principle stated, "This is the Super Bowl of Hockey." She couldn't have uttered more truer words.

If you haven't been to a Bruins game, then let me explain. After each goal, the crowd screams a loud "Whoo!" My husband prepared me for this but I was only able to Whoo once the last game I attended. This game was very different. I felt comfortable yelling out comments during the game. "Shoot the puck already!", "You've gotta be kidding me!", and "We want the cup!" None of these utterances filled me like the many whoos that flew from my eager lips this night.

As the music reverberated through my body, my eyes scanned the ice like a hawk searching for prey. I held my breathe as I watched shot after shot ricochet off the posts. As the goalies pads lifted from the ice, I saw the black beetle-like puck scurry into the net. I bolted from my seat, shot my arms into the air, and screamed out a loud WHOO! Then came the loud whoops and hollers. Strangers spun around and slapped my hands as they screamed and jumped.

Moments later, I was springing from my seat and bellowing another WHOO! Hands were combined again and lungs were pushed to their limit. I began to claw at my itching palms that screamed from all the clapping and slapping.

Whoo - Whoo - Whoo - Whoo - Whoo - Whoo!

8 Whoos later and I was descending the stairs to leave The Garden. The opposing team's fans held their heads down, a look of pure bewilderment in their eyes. How could they have one the first two games and get walloped this game? They tried not to draw any attention to their clashing blue and green as they were smothered by a sea of black and yellow. Chants of "Let's Go...Bruins!" filled the hallways and echoed in my ears. Once outside, the chats continued and were accompanied by car horns and feminine squeals.

I leaned against my husband and said, "I am giving you fair warning...I may wake up in my sleep and throw my arms up in the air and yell Whoo!" He smiled, threw his hands in the air, and gave a manly Whoo!

What a night...my head quickly welcomed the pillow when we arrived home. My eyes looked at the clock and registered the 12:45 time while my heart began to slow down and my breathes became fewer. Whoo and good night.

Hamster in a Wheel



photo © 2007 Dom St-Georges | more info (via: Wylio)

 After a long day, I feel like the hamster whose been running around in circles and going nowhere. When the wheel finally stops, I collapse and beg for a much needed nap.

The Two Writing Teachers have put out the question of "What is your reason for not writing?" Where do I begin? I know that I make time for things that are important to me, but why doesn't writing ever make the list? Let's see....

My excuses (even if there shouldn't be any)...I'm a Navy wife so I try to pick up the slack when my husband works long hours, I have two children that soak up my free time while they are awake, cooking meals (ugh), doing laundry, cleaning the house (all of it), yard work and cleaning up after the dog, kitty boxes and furballs, vacuuming (I have a husky who is blowing her coat), errands that need to be run (can we say grocery shopping?), and preparing for a move. However I do have time to write after the boys go to bed. Of course the comfy chair beckons for me to plant my bottom on it...for just a moment. Then the cat comes and snuggles in and my eyes begin their descent. Occasionally I will muster up the energy for a few chapters in a book but writing tends to get the backseat unless it's Tuesday (Slice of Life Day).

With Ruth giving me permission to expose my excuses and get to writing, I will try to post more often during the summer. We still have another week of school here but I need to make the time to write. It helps me document my life and become a better writing teacher. So thank you Ruth for the motivation to get started again.

Now I'll let the keyboard rest and cheer on the Bruins. Now or Never! Whoo!

Lobster Pie

My husband had a work function at a local restaurant this weekend. Each function seems to be at a new restaurant that includes delectable seafood. I do love my shellfish, so I couldn't resist ordering the lobster pie. Maine is full of lobster restaurants but this one is my favorite so far.

I should probably start by saying that this was a steak house with one seafood entree on the menu. While the rest of the guys contemplated what kind of cut they would be getting, I quickly closed my menu...seafood would be sitting in front of me tonight.

We chatted and joked as we waited for our food to be served. Steak was passed around the table, and oval ceramic containers full of succulent asparagus cuts, garlic mashed potatoes (cloves included), and sauteed mushroom heads were laid out on the table. My plate was the last to be delicately placed on the table.

photo © 2005 tup wanders | more info (via: Wylio)

I wish that I would have taken a picture with my camera, but I wasn't thinking so I'll have to paint you a picture. On the snow white platter was a triangular cut tower of pastry. Beside that was gargantuan clumps of lobster nestled in a buttery cream sauce. Potatoes, carrots, celery, and mushrooms buoyed in the cream lake that filled my platter. The smell of buttery creme filled the air as I inhaled to savor this moment. I pierced the potato and carrot first before adding my lobster as the topper to my fork. My lips gently folded over the cold utensil as the warm flavors began to overwhelm my senses. The ever so slight crunch of the potato accompanied by the firm, yet chewy lobster was the perfect combination.

After savoring the first bite, I began to inhale the rich goodness that filled my plate. The Captain, sitting across from me, carefully leaned over and hinted that I should slow down before the white wine arrived. He assured me that the wine would accentuate my meal...but it hadn't arrived yet and I wanted the rest of the plate to join my tummy. I smiled and slowly began to pick at the remaining bits on my plate as I waited for my wine. All I can say is....YUM!

Birthday Fun!

My oldest son turned 6...Oh my goodness! Since this is his first year of school, I wanted to make it an extra special birthday. There is a Fun Zone down the road from us that has go carts, miniature golf, laser tag, arcades and a batting cage. How could I go wrong? It also HAD to be a Mario Brother's theme. My mom is the expert at finding obscure items, so I enlisted her help. Mario items started arriving by the box fulls. Reservations were made, invitations were sent, and Grandma was flying in from WA...we were set to go.

The children started to arrive one by one. T's eyes lit up as his friends lugged in wrapped boxes and fancy bags. He jumped up and down and proceeded to give everyone the grand tour of the grounds. He was so very excited to have this special day. Arcade coins were handed out and the children scattered to all corners of the room. Motorcycles roared, skeeballs rolled to victory, and pucks floated across the air covered table. "Ding! Will T's party please return to the table for lunch!"

The children quickly appeared out of nowhere and began gloaming their food. "I've changed my mind", stated one of the little girls as she shoveled her sweet winnings into her mouth, "I'm not hungry." The mom in me wanted to force the issue but I sweetly smiled and told her to wait while the others ate their food. After eating their pizza and hot dogs, the cake was lit and set on the table. The birthday anthem was sung and mounds of cake were placed on their plate platforms. "I like cake, but not this one.", said the same girl from before. Again, I smiled through gritted teeth and told her to clean her place. After presents were quickly unwrapped, it was time for laser tag.

I was very nervous about how T would handle laser tag. He is deathly afraid of dark spaces but bravely walked into the black light lit room. I hovered around the score board outside watching to see how my munchkin was doing. About halfway through the time, the back door creaked opened. My son's head peaked out as he whispered, "that was scary." I wrapped my arm around him and praised him for giving it a try. One step at a time.

After laser tag was finished, we all headed out to slap some balls around the green. The cool breeze greeted us as we opened the doors to exit. Green mazes twisted and turned with white billowing flags guiding the way. The children started out taking turns but this took too long. They then began to gather together as they whacked the balls into the holes. Some even resorted to picking the ball up and placing it in the hole before moving on. The type A personality in me began to scream...NO, you MUST follow the rules. I took a deep breathe, looked at their excited faces with smiles and grins and remembered that this was a day for them. I smiled and watched as my youngest son, J, followed behind his big brother. The children cheered as the final balls were swallowed up by the remaining hole. They then bounded towards the door in anticipation for more fun.

Balloons and goodie bags were handed out as my son waved goodbye to his friends. Hugs were given and thank yous were exchanged. It was a fun day and one that I hope was memorable to my big guy!

Do or Die Time!

I am an avid sports fan. You don't have to be a sports fan to enjoy the enthusiasm of a crowd, or the anticipation of a win. The energy and excitement pulsates through the air and works it's way into your system with each breathe you take.

My husband and I were lucky enough to get tickets to a hockey game on Friday. Not just any game though, game 7 of the East Coast Conference Finals for Hockey...Boston Bruins vs. Tampa Bay Lightning...Do or Die Time!

The Boston Bruins haven't made it to the Stanley Cup finals in a long time so the town was bubbling with anticipation to see if they could fulfill their destiny. We had wonderful seats close to the ice. I was born and raised a hockey fan so my heart began to race with each step we took into The Garden. It was scorching hot outside and the cool breeze off of the ice was a welcome change. My sweat began to evaporate on my back and was completely cooled by the time we reached the entrance to our seats. As we closed our eyes to take in the cool air and the loud noise, my rib cage began to vibrate like a phone. The music was pumping and my ribs were doing the same. I bounced to the beat aswe found our awaiting seats.

The game was a nail biter...0 to 0 as we entered the 3rd period. There was no time to wait, the Bears needed to step up and score. They had several shots on the net but couldn't squeeze it past the lightning fast goalie. The crowd held their breathes and exhaled in a grown after each try. Then, a shot was launched through the air...inhale...GOAL!!! The crowd went wild. I screamed until my lungs surfaced in my mouth. High fives were given, and walls began to shutter. From that moment on, it was standing room only. The crowded hollered "Let's Go Bruins!" as they pounded their hands together. People began to will the team to hold on to the lead. Then my lips began to smirk as a chant began around the stadium..."We Want The Cup! We Want The Cup!" This was the moment...we watched in anticipation as the clock slowly ticked down. Tick! Tick! Tick!

10 - 9 - 8 - 7 - 6 - 5 - 4 - 3 - 2 - 1 - Bruins Win the Easter Conference! Stanley Cup, here we come!

The Bruins came together from all sides of the ice like penguins gathering to keep warm. Helmets were slapped, arms were linked, and hollers could be heard all over Boston. The opposing team dropped to their knees in defeat. Their hearts heavy from the loss and their bodies exhausted from the exertion of their efforts. After a quick celebration, the two teams lined up...as they melded together, they congratulated each other on a game well played. Hands were shaken, hugs were given, and conversations were had. I love seeing how a battle ends with grace and complements towards both teams. What a way to end the night.

Coffee and Donuts

photo © 2009 Tom Small | more info (via: Wylio)

We have a Dunkin' Donuts right down the street from our home. My son feels that this is a sign...we MUST visit DD on a daily basis. My waistline and wallet can not grant his request daily, but on occassions we make a stop. Today was one of those days.

Our car came to a slow stop next to the local Dunkin' Donuts. The blinker clicked it's morse code signaling our destination. "Dunkin' Donuts, I L-O-V-E Dunkin' Donuts!", came a beaming voice from behind my seat. I craned my neck around to see my son's smile stretching from one cheek to the next. His cheeks started to blush from smiling so big. His eyes were sparkling and I swear that I saw some drool in the corner of his lips.

We nestled our car between two others and splashed through the puddles on our way to the door. The drive-in is awfully convenient but nothing beats the smell when you open the front door. A mixture of sweet icing and roasting coffee beans embraced us as we carefully walked to the cotton candy colored counter. We scanned the shelves full of sugary goodness and made our choices...lemon merinque donut for me with coffee and raised glazed munchkins for my little guy.

J bounced past a table full of construction workers, thumb raised in excitement and hello. The men bellowed their greetings between sips of piping hot coffee and pauses in conversation. J always seems to get responses like that from his enthusiasm. We settled into our seats, counted out munchkins and began to eat. The mixture of the cool lemon filling and the warm coffee was like a symphony on my lips. J was covered with glaze moments after touching his donuts. People stopped at our table one by one to ask J how his food was. "It's De-licious!", he exclaimed before shoving in another mouthful.

Coffee and Donuts with my little guy...the only thing better would be if my older son could join us too. It's going to be a great day!