Knock, knock...anyone still out there in my little blogging world? Will you forgive me for not blogging in 5 months? Come on, I've got some good stuff to share...ah, now I've got your attention.

First of all, last May we moved to NY. I know, I didn't tell anyone but Arizona wasn't coming together for us so in a little thought out plan we packed up and drove across the country to find ourselves in a little town in upstate New York. And we love it here. It's beautiful and the air is so fresh and clean. There are apple orchards all over and little road side stands that sell fresh vegetables.
The first few weeks after we arrived, Nate and I would drive around the countryside and just enjoy how lovely it was. We fell in love with a little corner of the valley that had sprawling pastures, green hills and mountains covered with beautiful trees. We wanted to much to find a little place of our own in that little area but the chances were slim.
After a short time, we both found jobs and were soon given callings in the little church branch.
We had a little house that we had fallen in love with but we soon realized that the possibility of getting a loan and purchasing it was not going to happen. I kind of gave of hope on the house but Nate was heartbroken. It was a little hunting cabin that had been added to. It needed a lot of work but Nate and I wanted it the moment we drove up the driveway. We didn't see all the work that needed to be done. We saw a garden in the front blooming with wildflowers. On cold nights in the winter, we visualized a roaring fire in the fireplace and curling up together with a good book. We would be able to go hiking in our own woods. And it was in the little corner of the valley that we loved.
Nate never gave up on the place. To make a long story short, the house went to auction and in a few minutes of torture (while the auction was going on) which turned into moments of disbelief when Nate's bid won (what the hell did we just do?), we owned the house.

This is the day we officially signed all the papers. Our little dream had come true. Now the work was to begin.

I'm not going to show all the pictures right now. I'd like to do "before" and "after" pictures once we are done. But I will give you a little taste of what we have on our hands.
This is the "great" room. We're going to make it into the master bedroom because we like the lighting and location of the room. I can tell you that almost the whole house is covered in some of the most horrible wallpaper I've ever seen. Wallpaper removal is a miserable job. The one room in the house that doesn't have wallpaper is painted peptobismal (sp?) pink with turquoise molding and accents.

Here is my cute little country kitchen. I plan to repaint it but I want to keep the charm of it.

It's a simple little house that some people might find small and plain but for us it was just what we were looking for and the best part is there are no scorpions (big problem when we were looking at houses in Arizona).








This is the bunk house in the back. If you ever come visit us, this will be where you stay. And that little swing is where Nate and I plan to sit on warm days, drinking lemonade and watching our children play in the meadow.

So, there you go. My first little bit of what is going on with us. I will be updating with more good stuff in the days to come.

I love Kool-Aid

I believe that I've established the fact that I'm a hairy girl. I'm not proud of it but I've reluctantly accepted it.
Since hair removal is such an important part of my life, I have become quite the connoisseur of the art. At this time I have two bits of advice: 1-Laser hair removal is a crock, don't waste your money. 2- Don't ever wax your big toe, it's the most painful thing I've ever experienced...you will only do it one time.

Last night I was happily waxing my upper lip. Who doesn't like the feeling of your skin being ripped off your face?
Anyway, while Nate was watching an old black and white silent Dracula movie I decided to wax my upper lip since he was distracted. I figured I'd quickly wax what needed to be waxed and Nate would be none the wiser.
I was so clever. 1, 2, 3 RRRIIPPPP! 1, 2, 3 RRRIIPPPP! (pain, pain) I hate counting when I wax, why do I do that to myself? I was done, I peaked out the bathroom door and saw that Nate was still distracted. Yes, mission accomplished.
I nonchalantly meandered out of the bathroom. Nate looked at me for a second then looked back at the TV, then he looked back at me again. He squinted in the dim light. As I walked by he said "I really like your Kool-Aid mustache." Crickets chirp, my eyes narrow and I try to come up with a reasonable explanation for my bright red upper lip, I had nothing.
You just couldn't let it go could you Nate? I wonder how you'd like a kool-aid mustache on your left cheek...you're southern cheek. You'd better watch your back.

Babies and Duckies

What are the chances of me going to hell for making fun of the two cutest things on God's green earth, babies and duckies? What the heck, you only live once.
Is it just me or does this picture look like this cute sweet baby just pooped out a gaggle of duckies?

A naked baby leaning slightly forward with a look of relief on its face and a line of duckies (notice the one that's fallen down, he must of have been the most recent poop) freshly squeezed out.
Wow, that was a filthy sentence. Gross, what's wrong with me?
Wait a minute...what's wrong with me? No, what's wrong with the photographer who thought that the bowel contents of a poor little baby was cute?
Photographers these days, you just can't trust 'em.

Bangs

I recently cut my bangs. When I say "I cut my bangs" I mean that I went and paid a "professional" to cut my bangs for me...then I went home and cut my bangs because she did a terrible job...miraculously, I made them look worse. I snipped a little here, I snipped a little there and all of a sudden there is was, Vietnam flashback.

I've only cut my hair one other time in my life, I was in 1st grade and was bored. I remember sitting at my desk and snipping a little bit of hair. Then another little bit until the next thing I know, I looked like this:I really looked like that, leave me alone. I probably would have been ok with the non-existent bangs alone, but the addition of my big ole glasses made it a sad scene. When I stepped off the bus in front of my house the baby-sitter took one look at me and said "Oooh, your mom is going to kill you." I believed her. I spent the next 3 hours visualizing the hell that was to come, that's a lot to put on a little 1st grade heart and soul. It would start with a spanking, followed by hanging from my toe nails. I'm sure I'd have to eat a whole bowl of onions then I'd have to wash my brothers' dirty undies by hand. I was never never never going to cut my hair again. Oh the agony I suffered as the minutes passed like years. With tears in my eyes and fear in my heart I looked up as my mom walked in the room. My mom only laughed when she saw my hair. The bowl of onions would wait for another day.

This recent haircut brings to mind a relation who we'll call "Hillary." Several months ago "Hillary" had her hair cut but didn't like her bangs so she grabbed the closest pair of scissors, which happened to be cuticle scissors, and tried to fix things. I didn't think her bangs looked that bad but she spent the next few weeks with her bangs pinned back. Now I too am walking the "cut my own bangs" road-o-regret. I can only think about 3 ways to pull my bangs back, they're so annoying...I just want to cut them all off.
I've asked Nate to hide all the scissors

Le Laxative

I took a laxative last night for the first time in my life. I should be the anti-Activia spokesperson (sorry Jamie Lee, but I will take you down). In fact I usually pop Immodium like tic-tacs. "Regularity" has never been a problem for me which has been a blessing and a retched curse.
Something changed last night and with a concerned Nate at my side, I considered taking half of a laxative. The box said results 6 to 12 hours.
"Ok," I thought to myself "it's 10:00 pm now. Church starts at 10:00 am. My body will probably react 10 minutes after I take the the pill. Laxative is a go."
I then proceeded to take the pill-o-Satan.
10 minutes passed, nothing. Went to bed ( I have to be totally honest with you all, I had the tiniest fear that an issue would arise while I slept). Woke up this morning, nothing. Prepared for church, nothing. Maybe my body was immune to laxative. That's like a superhero kind of power isn't it? (My mind drifts for a moment, bare with me my friends, as I think about what my superhero name would be. "The Commodian" was all I could come up with. I welcome any other names."
Dressed in our finest, we leave for church at 9:30 with no signs of problems.
10:00, and church has begun. The laxative has left my mind as I sing a hymn and listen to a prayer.
Before the hour is up I will be home after the longest drive of my life. In between curses I prayed that I wouldn't get pulled over by a policeman, that wouldn't end up well for anyone involved.
I shall now spend the rest of my evening writing a strongly worded letter to the laxative company and file a complaint. Apparently there was a misprint on the box. It should say:
"results in 6 to 12 1/2 hours."


Fin

In Nates defense

I have to defend Nate on the whole "deceptively heavy" comment that I mentioned in my last blog. You see, it's true I am deceptively heavy and I'm ok with it. Nate sometimes tries to heroically lift me into his arms and carry me to a rose petal covered bed, only to slip a disk.
There has been more than one occasion that I was out dancing (pre-marriage) and some hot shot guy tried to flip me but had to use every ounce of strength to not drop me on my head. One guy did drop me. After that I wore a sign around my neck with my weight on it so when some Don Juan came to ask me to dance, he would know if I fit into his weight limit.
I'd like to close by saying that I would much rather be deceptively heavy than deceptively light. Think about that by dear blogging BFFs.
Peace \/,
Haley

PS: After reading all your comments I decided to move back to my old toilet stall at work. If I'm going to sit in urine (or splash back) I might as well sit where there's more room and better air flow. I love you guys!

Da Bathroom

I have a favorite toilet stall at work. Does that make me weird? I mean, of course I would love nothing more that to rest my rump on on my favorite seat at home but I can't do that 15 times a day (that is no exaggeration, I drink a lot of water) when I'm at work.
And so I have decreed that the first bathroom stall on the right is my official stall. Apparently not everyone at work received the memo. Of course it's the woman that pees on seat who doesn't read. I don't mind sharing my stall when it's not being used by me (my parents taught me to share) but I really don't like sitting in the urine of someone else, twice. And so angrily I packed my bathroom decorations and moved to different stall. The real estate isn't quite as nice but I suppose that's for the best. Friday, my first day in my new stall I sat in urine. Seriously?

I would also like to mention that during training at my job, my desk was right near the bathrooms. I will stand up in court and swear that 4 out of 5 men (I'll drop names if I have to) didn't wash their hands after they tinkled. I know because I timed them. There is no way that a man can walk into the bathroom, step up to a urinal, unbutton and unzip his pants, pull out his little wee-bee, do his business, put before mentioned wee-bee away, button and zip up, wash his hands, dry his hands and walk out the bathroom in 26 seconds. On the other hand, I though one guy had died in there. I'm really grateful my permanent desk isn't by the restrooms.

I think I broke the scale in the bathroom at work. One day it worked, and now it says I weigh 84 pounds. The scale at home says a much different number. I hate the scale at home. Nate says I'm deceptively heavy. I know this is true, I've had others mention the same thing. Nate shall live, this time.