A Year of Blogging: February 28, 2011

February 28 is Public Sleeping Day. Very appropriate for a Monday! I've started referring to Sunday nights as "Sleepless Sundays". No matter how exhausted I am, I am never able to sleep on Sunday nights. I go to bed, and insomnia kicks in. It's 1am, it's 2am, then 3am. Then my mind starts thinking 'you have to be up in 4 hours, 3 hours,..... ' I usually fall asleep around 4 or 4:30, just as the alarm goes off at 5:00. The first alarm that is. I have an alarm clock with two alarms. I have never been a person to get up with the first alarm. I can do it, but very rarely. The result of my Sleepless Sundays is I wake up on Monday morning groggy, dragging, and possibly a bit cranky. Mondays are the worst days at work- we do marketing which means we print it, stuff it in envelopes, and put postage on it. We do this for 400-600 pieces of mail per week. It is just two of us doing it (in addition to our other jobs). We stand over a table that comes mid-thigh on me. There is a lot of reaching, bending, and of course, folding. I come home Monday nights crippled over and in tremendous pain. Add to this the fact that I'm starting the day on just a couple of hours of sleep, and you can understand why Mondays are Hell. Just as I drifted into sleep this morning, I was woken by torrential rain and thunderstorms. I can't even think of words to describe how hard it was raining. It was like God had opened the biggest hose he could find and turned it on full blast over my house. We were under a tornado watch, which I found out about after it was over. Better to find out about it this morning when the danger was gone, than to find out about it last night as I was trying to sleep. The whole night left me yawning this morning. I took chocolate to work this afternoon because I knew I'd need a pick me up. I could have easily fallen asleep at my desk. Thankfully, it was a little cold in the office, which kept me alert. I was shivering and wishing I had more layers on. I do keep a blanket at the office, but it's not for naps. It is to keep me warm. I work in the basement of an old, poorly heated (and equally poorly cooled) building, so it is always cold. It's not likely I would have fallen asleep at my desk. Other than the obvious: sleeping on the job isn't the best idea!, I'm hesitant to sleep in public places. Especially if I am alone. I will sleep on airplanes, that is probably the most public place I sleep. But even then, my purse is between my feet underneath the seat in front of me. There's so little room on airplanes anymore, especially if you are 5'9", that I know no one is getting my purse without rousing me from my sleep! In other public places I feel too vulnerable. I did take my usual cat nap during my lunch hour. On my couch- surrounded by beagles. I guess it is *my* public place.

A Year of Blogging: February 27, 2011

February 27 is Polar Bear Day. Sydney would love this day! Polar Bears are her favorite animal. I promised her we would go to the zoo to see them when she comes to visit in April. I think we will probably go to the Columbus Zoo, which is about 2 hours away. They have a special Polar Bear exhibit. I've never been to that zoo, so it will be nice to see. Syd watches a program on Sunday mornings that has Jack Hanna. He of course is the former director of the Columbus Zoo. So she is very excited that we're going to the zoo. At least it will be nicer in April than it would have been in December! I am looking forward to spending time with one of my little monkeys, and exploring the zoo together. My parents will be with us too, so it will be an adventure for all of us!

A Year of Blogging: February 26, 2011

February 26 was Pistachio Day. I don't really have much to say about pistachios. I have never cared for them. Erich really likes them, but he does not like pistachio ice cream (something I learned just a few minutes ago as I sat here trying to decide what to write about). February 26 was also Tell a Fairy Tale Day. Sounds like a good day to curl up with a child and read a fairy tale. My favorite Fairy Tale may have been Goldilocks. The story with bears- I know, you are very surprised it is my favorite! I never cared for Cinderella (the evil stepsisters and stepmother frightened me) or any story with a witch (yes, witches frightened me too). I just realized what a wimp I sound like! Well, as a child, those things scared me, and I guess it's left an impression. The website, www.holidayinsights.com says fairy tales do not have to start with 'Once Upon a Time' but must end with a happy ending. This has caused a debate in our house, because Erich, who is familiar with German fairy tales, says fairy tales do not have to have a happy ending. The German fairy tales are much darker. Maybe they are on to something- is it better to let children know bad things can happen, or is it better to let them live in a world where everything works out the way you want it to: the Princess gets her Prince, the evil witch goes away, and life is one big happy party?

A Year of Blogging: February 25, 2011

February 25 was Pistol Patent Day. When I first read it, I thought it was Pistol Permit day. Guess I was tired, and permit made more sense than patent. Not that I have either. Or a pistol. I'm not one of those gun control liberals, and I'm not a card-carrying NRA republican. However, my family members have guns. Dad always had hunting rifles. For years he also had a German rifle that my great-uncle Ernest took off a German soldier in WWII. (I have the letter he sent his sister, my Grandma, detailing this event). My brother in law has a lot of guns, locked into a giant safe. He also has a pistol permit, so he's usually packing. There's a simple reason I don't own a gun. I have a very low tolerance for stupidity, and I'd never be able to claim insanity. Haha! I'm joking. Or am I? Anyway, since it was Pistol Patent day, I wondered what that meant. According to www.holidayinsights.com, Samuel Colt received patent #138 for the pistol on February 25, 1836. If you have a design for a new pistol, it's time to get a patent for it. And if you don't have a design, get cracking! There's less than a year until the next Pistol Patent day, which is always on February 25.

A Year of Blogging: February 24, 2011

February 24 was Tortilla Chip Day. Maybe it's because I have been cramming almost two weeks' worth of blogs into a few short days; but I really don't have much to say about Tortilla Chip Day. Or maybe it's because I can't eat them any more. I was hoping there was an alternate day for February 24. Some days have more than one thing. But not February 24. It's only Tortilla Chip Day. I am learning there are some truly silly days. It makes me wonder who thinks up these things? So I'm going to change February 24. I have decided to keep with the dog theme this week, and name February 24 Beagle Day. It is the day to love beagles, study them, and appreciate them for the smart adorable dogs they are. I suggest reading Peanuts, paying attention to Snoopy. I love how Charles Schultz portrays a beagle so accurately. You could also celebrate Beagle Day by watching Underdog. If you know a beagle, pet him or her and snuggle with them. If you need one to pet, mine are attention hounds. Happy Beagle Day!

A Year of Blogging: February 23, 2011

February 23 was 'Dog Biscuit Appreciation Day'. Do you sense a theme this week? Love Your Pet Day, Walk the Dog day, and Dog Biscuit Appreciation Day all in one week. As a human, I am not very fond of dog biscuits. But my beagles truly appreciate dog biscuits. Their favorites are Milk Bones- the ones that come in red, green, browns; and the marrow bone treats which have some sort of a meaty center. We recently started buying Blue Buffalo biscuits, which are all natural. We switched to Blue Buffalo food in the summer, hoping it would eliminate some of the skin problems the dogs had. It has helped them. They do like the biscuits, especially the ones that are about the size of my hand. They really enjoy the big ones! We have become more vigilant about the biscuits and treats we buy since the pet food recalls a couple of years ago. Now I read the packages, and make sure the treats are 'Made in the USA'. You wouldn't believe how many treats are made in China! I started worrying about that after the Avian flu in Asia. Of course, the best thing is to make their treats myself. I do that occasionally, but I just don't have the time. I make a peanut butter bone that they adore. It's whole wheat flour, natural peanut butter, and skim milk. There might be a couple of ingredients that I have forgotten. I have a dog bone shaped cookie cutter, and I usually make a double batch which makes about 100 bones. The dogs happily taste test them for me. I know they are good when they sit at my feet and beg for more. I am glad my dogs didn't know it was 'Dog Biscuit Appreciation Day'. They would sat in front of the dog cabinet all day (we have an old microwave cart in the kitchen that holds all the dog treats. As soon as I open the doors, there are two little noses pushing my hand out of the way to get at the goodies). I did give them each a bone today to make up for missing the day on the 23rd, and they are happy beagles tonight.

A Year of Blogging: February 22, 2011

February 22 was Walk the Dog Day. I have to admit, we don't walk our dogs. We have a backyard, and they are allowed to run in the backyard and play. If my Vet is reading this, she is no doubt cringing. We have tried in the past to walk the dogs. We have a decent neighborhood. The street is busy during school time, but it's not like the three lane boulevard behind the house. The neighborhood has sidewalks throughout it, and it's not a bad walk. The problem is many of our neighbors have dogs too. We failed as puppy parents by not socializing our dogs as puppies. We adopted them in winter, and they were so tiny, we tried not to take them out much. Our dogs were never properly socialized, and as such, do not really get along well with other dogs. The beagles think they should be the only dogs in the world. They get upset when other dogs walk past our house. Onyx even gets upset when she sees Axel, Erich's parents dog, and she knows him! Our attempts to walk the dogs always ends up in raised blood pressure for us, and some breathlessness. Ms. Onyx believes she is small, but mighty, and must take on anything. Prince Cobalt is afraid of his own shadow. When he feels threatened, he barks, as beagles do. This horrible, deep wail that reverberates through the neighborhood. Add to this the beagles tendencies to follow an interesting scent, and walks are well....very unpleasant. My parents tried to walk the dogs one year. Mom started out with Cobalt, because he is the calmer dog. What she didn't realize is he pulls so on a leash, you feel like he's pulling your arm out of the socket. He is a very muscular dog. So she quickly traded with Dad, and took Onyx, the smaller of the two. Everything was great, until they rounded the corner. There, in a fenced yard was a German Shepherd. Onyx took offense to his presence, and tried to go through the fence after him. Cobalt got scared and started barking. The German Shepherd started climbing the fence to get Onyx. Dad walked quickly with Cobalt and got him out of there, and Mom scooped up Onyx in her arms and took off running. They came back to the house and said 'Never again!' As they told their story, Erich and I laughed, because it was so familiar. Some dogs do well on walks. Mine do not. So it is best to not even try.

A Year of Blogging: February 21, 2011

February 21 was President's Day. I was supposed to fly back to Ohio on President's Day. My original flight was scheduled for 5:30am. Which meant I had to leave Mom's at 3am to get to the airport by 4am. I would rather have more time at the airport than to be pressed for time and stuck in line in security. Sunday night, Delta canceled my Monday morning flight. I was supposed to connect in Detroit, which was getting hit with another major snowstorm. They re- booked me on a 5:30pm flight, to connect through Atlanta. A two hour layover in Atlanta meant I wouldn't get into Dayton until almost midnight. The change in my flight meant I got to spend an extra day with Sydney and Drew. Most schools in NY close for Winter Break the week of President's Day. Sydney had no school all week, and Drew did not have daycare on President's Day. We got a little bit of snow that morning, and Dad got called by the county to ride wing on the snowplow. So Mom and I piled into the Explorer and went across the mountain to babysit. For those who do not know, my parents live in the mountains. Well, their house is more in the valley. You can stand in their yard, and no matter which way you look, you see mountains. If you drive north or south from their house, you are encircled by mountains. If you want to go east or west, you must cross those mountains. My sister lives about 25 minutes west of Mom, so you have to go over the mountain. Technically, the road is called County Rt 40 or Plank Rd. Locals just call it 'The Mountain'. The Mountain has been part of my life since the day I was born. Before that even. Dad grew up on one side, Mom on the other. We've logged many millions of miles going over that Mountain. Sydney wanted pancakes for breakfast. She wanted them at the same time Mom was feeding Drew his cereal. So Sydney and I went to the kitchen and mixed pancakes. It took a few minutes, because I did not know where my sister kept her Bisquick, or her cooking spray. Sydney pulled her little stool over to the counter to help me, and she stirred the ingredients together. She has a pan that makes 7 or 8 small pancakes, each with a different animal face. I was in charge of pouring the batter, and cooking and flipping the pancakes. While I made the pancakes, she got out her plate, and the syrup (she had to use Pete's syrup- Pete is my cousin Beth's fiance. He makes his own maple syrup). She decided she wanted cherries on her pancakes (the kind of cherries you put on ice cream). When I questioned her, she said 'Don't worry! It will be good!' She couldn't find the cherries, and after searching through the refrigerator, settled on strawberries instead. Once she was fed, it was time to play. Sydney took me in her room so we could play. We played board games, dressed up like Princesses, played with her Polly Pockets (those little dolls are miserable to dress!), and just had fun. Being four, her attention span still isn't very long, so we'd play for a little bit then she'd pick it up and get out something else. She told me the things she will do with the horse my mom is going to buy her. She's going to name this horse Samantha. I didn't tell her that she'll be waiting a long time for a horse. I always wanted a horse, and asked for one many times. I'm almost 35, and still waiting for my horse! I was able to spend some time snuggling Drew. He laughs and smiles at me, and it just makes my day. I am really looking forward to the coming years, as he gets bigger and develops his own personality. It will be fun to play with both of them. Dad came over in the afternoon, and when it was time to go to the airport, Mom stayed with Drew while Syd, Dad, and I took off for the airport. When I got there and tried to check in, I found out my flight had been canceled again. Eventually, they re-booked me on a flight for the next morning. We took my suitcases and went back to the car. Halfway back to my sister's house, Sydney started telling my Dad he'd missed the turn. We had no idea what she was talking about until she said 'you missed the turn to the airport!' Dad told her we'd been to the airport, remember? She went in, and then we came out. Sydney said 'But we still have Aunt Amy!'. We explained that I had to stay until the next day, and she started smiling. A very broad smile that stretched from ear to ear. She was so excited that her play buddy could stay a little longer. Every time I looked at her, the smile was still there. So President's Day turned out better than I thought. Sure, I was extremely annoyed with Delta. But I wouldn't trade my extra snuggle and play time for anything!

A Year of Blogging: February 20, 2011

February 20 was 'Love Your Pet' day. Every day at our house is Love Your Pet day. Or specifically, Love Our Dogs day. I am the mother to two very spoiled beagles. I do not know why they are so spoiled. Haha! I'm going to say it was their Grandma who spoiled them. The dogs are allowed on the couches. Often you will find them each curled up on a couch. They believe the pillows are for their comfort. The throw blankets Erich and I keep on the couches to curl up in when we are relaxing double as dog blankets. Onyx digs and pulls on our blankets just as she does her dog bed. She makes her nest and then settles down to snooze. My dogs have more toys than some children. They have three toy boxes, and all are over flowing. We go into a pet store and have a hard time picking out a new toy for them, because they have all the plush toys. Plastic toys are out because Onyx chews through them in less than two minutes. We learned that lesson when she was very young. We tried again when she was older, and she still chewed right through it. There are some times they still need toys. I like to get them a toy on their birthdays and Christmas. When I visit my mom, she sends home a small toy for each of them as an apology for taking me away from them. Mom & Dad rub the toys on them so the toys smell like Gramma and Grampa. When Mom & Dad come to visit us, they bring toys as bribes to get in the door. And then there is the food. Erich and I have gotten in the habit of buying chicken or steaks in packages of three. One for each of us, one for the dogs to share. If we have roast beef, the dogs enjoy it too. If we fix something with hamburger, we scoop out some of the hamburger for them before we put the taco seasoning or spaghetti sauce in it. There are very few nights that they do not share our dinner. Of course- theirs is cooked separately, without the sauces or spices we use for ours. But they still enjoy it! Some people would call us bad dog parents because they are so spoiled. They do not think they are dogs. They think they are short humans. Yet have no fear, they know who the alpha dog is. They both know I am the leader of our pack in the house. Onyx does think she outranks Erich, but at least she knows she doesn't outrank me. They are not just spoiled with things or food. They are spoiled with affection. We spend a great deal of time snuggling with them, petting them, and loving them. They have brought so much joy to our lives, we show them every day how much they are loved.

A Year of Blogging: February 19, 2011

February 19 was Chocolate Mint Day. While I love chocolate, I really don't like chocolate mint. It's the mint part that I find unappealing. There are two exceptions. The first are those Andes mints you get at Olive Garden. Long before I stepped foot into an Olive Garden, I loved those mints. My Great-Aunt Vera, who was always more of a Grandma than an Aunt to Laura and I, bought those mints and kept them in a candy dish in the living room. The house I remember most is the sprawling ranch sitting on top of the hill in Hoosick, NY. You could see Vermont from the picture windows in her living room. The views from that house were stunning. Aunt Vera's husband, Ernest, was my Grandma Wager's brother. He died suddenly in September, 1980. I was four. My memories of Uncle Ernest are limited. I remember a tall man smoking a pipe. In contrast, my memories of Aunt Vera are endless. She is just shy of five feet tall, and full of spunk. Every time I taste one of those mints, I am transported back to my childhood. The other exception to my aversion to chocolate mint is Thin Mints. I love Thin Mints. Samoas are my favorite Girl Scout Cookie, but Thin Mints are a very close second. Erich introduced me to the idea of putting them in the freezer before you eat them. It enhances the coolness of the mint, and makes them even more irresistible. I have been on the lookout for Girl Scouts for a month. Normally, they are at the grocery stores. I haven't seen any yet, but I heard on the news at noon today that they should be out this weekend. That is one of my goals for the weekend. I have cash, now I need cookies!

A Year of Blogging: February 18, 2011

February 18 was 'Battery Day'. As in those little things that power our lives. Although, some batteries are big- like car batteries. Stop for a moment and think what our lives would be like without batteries. We'd still be cranking our cars to get them to start. I'm pretty sure that would not be pleasant with the Fibro! Sundials would be our alarm clocks. There would be no portable music devices, no phones, and *gasp* no computers. Which of course means, there would be no Facebook. Batteries are such a part of our lives. Yet we take them for granted. Until the MP3 player stops working, and we tear through all the drawers in the china cabinet looking for AAA batteries! While I was home in NY, I was playing with Sydney. Many of her toys that should make noise or do something didn't. She kept telling me 'the batteries are run down on that one'. I started to wonder if they really had run down, or if her parents had intervened for some peace! Life would be quieter without batteries, but I think it might be a little duller too!

A Year of Blogging: February 17, 2011

February 17 was 'Random Acts of Kindness Day'. Compared to some of the days we've had so far (Umbrella Day and Toothache Day come to mind), this is a day I can really support. I think the world would be a better place if people were kinder to others. Erich and I always try to practice Random Acts of Kindness. It is something my parents encouraged. Erich can be isolated at times, but he is the kindest person you could ever hope to meet. When I saw him helping strangers, or people he barely knew, I knew he was a very good person. Random acts of kindness don't have to be extravagant. It can be as simple as helping an elderly person to their car with their groceries. Or picking up an item that a person dropped. The other day on my flight, a gentleman behind me helped a woman get her bags out of the overhead compartment. Sometimes, you may not even realize you are helping others. It may only take a moment of your time. But you could be making a big difference to the other person. Your kind word or gesture might be the bright spot in their day. You may not know that you made their day, but you will feel better because you took time for someone else.

A Year of Blogging: February 16, 2011

February 16 was 'Do a Grouch a Favor Day'. The idea is to do something for someone who seems to be down, and it will brighten their mood. While I wasn't a grouch on February 16, (or at least I don't think so), I was down. Our whole family was, because we were still dealing with my Grandmother's recent passing. The family viewing was Wednesday night, February 16. I have been to many wakes (as we call them in NY), but I always get a little freaked out seeing the person in the coffin. In fact, most times, I don't look at the person in the coffin. I stand in front of the coffin and say a prayer, but I don't look at the deceased. I do not know why it has always bothered me. I don't mind exploring cemeteries, but seeing the person in the coffin creeps me out. This was no different, except I felt I needed to look at Grandma. It was so upsetting, I had to walk away. Sydney wanted to see GG (which is what she called Grandma, since she was Syd's Great-Grandma). Sydney has handled the situation amazingly well- comprehending it better than many children twice her age. She knows GG got her wings and is in Heaven, with mom's parents. She colored a picture for GG, and my sister put it in the coffin with Grandma. My sister thought it was best to bring Syd to the family visitation, because there would be fewer people there. My sister also knew it would be easier to leave if Syd was upset by this. When they came through the door of the funeral chapel, Sydney asked to see GG. My sister took her up, and when they came back to sit down, Sydney was fascinated by the whole thing. She kept asking questions, and kept begging to go see her again. In that respect, she was doing better than her old Aunt Amy! My sister pleaded with us to answer Sydney's questions, because she was out of answers. And then suddenly it hit me- there's a little bit of my Grandma in Sydney. Grandma loved wakes. If the wake was scheduled for 2-4 and 7-9; she was there well before 2pm, and stayed til the last person left after 4, then she went back for the full evening session. She always mentioned how the deceased looked. She would have been so pleased, because the funeral director did an amazing job- she looked 20 years younger. I know it's weird to say it, but she looked beautiful. Sydney's enthusiasm that night reminded me of my Grandma. Grandma also asked a lot of questions. We often joked that a conversation with Grandma was a game of 20 questions. If you went out to dinner, she wanted to know what everyone had (including sides, dessert, drinks); how your steaks were cooked, if you brought any home, who you went with.... well, you get the idea. Sydney seemed to be Gram reincarnated. I may just have to call her Little Bea. Grandma's name was Beatrice. I first learned this when I was in Kindergarten. I went home from my first day of Kindergarten, and told my mom that there was a girl in my class with a weird name. When I revealed her name was Beatrice, Mom laughed and told me that was Grandma Primeau's name. I argued that Grandma's name was Grandma. I called Grandma on the phone, hoping she would confirm what I thought. Instead, she said my mother was right. It had never occurred to me that adults had 'real' names. I thought their names were Mommy, Daddy, Grandpa and Grandma. My Gram never forgot this story. When Laura was pregnant for Sydney, we had a 4th of July party. Laura's baby shower had been two days earlier, and she had revealed that she was having a girl. My sister refused to tell the family what the baby's name would be. My parents and I knew. But the extended family did not. Laura told them the name would be a family name. Several Aunts & Uncles made a game out of thinking up names for the baby. When they came up with Beatrice for a first name, Grandma spoke up and said 'I know it's not Beatrice. Amy hates that name.' There was a brass nameplate in Grandma's coffin. It said 'Beatrice E. Primeau'. Sydney wanted to know what the sign was. I explained that it was Grandma's name (I suspect the nameplate was going to go on the outside of the coffin as they can't bury her until Spring due to the snow pack). Syd asked why her name started with an 'F' if her name was GG. I said it started with a 'B' and told her what Grandma's name was. I told Sydney that GG had once been a little girl, just like Sydney, and her parents named her Beatrice. I told her everyone had a different name when they were little. I was Amy to everyone else. We went around the room, going over every one's "names when they were a little girl or boy". I did caution her that she is never to call her parents or grandparents by their names. She thought Beatrice was a very funny name. The only thing she thought was funnier was my Grandpa's name- Aubrey. It is more commonly used as a girl's name, but in Quebec, it is also a boy's name. Having this conversation with Sydney made me feel like I was talking to myself. As I talked to her that night, and spent time with her, I felt better. Yes, I was sad about my Grandma, but Sydney and Drew have so much life and energy you are reminded that life does go on. The children will keep us going. They will lift our spirits when we are down, and make our world better.

A Year of Blogging: February 15, 2011

February 15 was Gum Drop day. I have never really cared for gum drops. I do like Gummi bears though, which are apparently in the same category. A couple of years ago I found a gelatin mix at Hobby Lobby to make your own gummi candy. I also found cute little molds- sea creatures, Easter eggs, and of course bears. They didn't taste as great as the gummis you can buy in the store, but they weren't bad. I think I'll make some when Syd comes to visit in April. February 15 in our house is Erich's birthday. This year was his 42nd birthday. We celebrated by getting up at 3:30am, and leaving at 4am for an airport run. Happy Birthday! In fairness, I had made a beef stew a couple of days before, I made him cookies and muffins, and the night before his birthday we had hot sausage grinders, which is another of his favorite meals. So he was well fed! His gift had arrived the week before. I knew the box would be too big to wrap, so I told him to just open it when it came. I bought him a rain barrel that looks like a big rock. We can collect the rain water off our gutters to water the garden, but it doesn't look like a tacky rain barrel. Plus, the rock thing is kind of a joke. His Bachelor's is in Geology; so I'm always finding rocks for him. Rocks, or fake rocks, are always a perfectly acceptable gift for Erich! Gum Drop Day is always February 15. I'll have to remember next year to knock out Erich's birthday and Gum Drop Day at once by buying him a large quantity of Gummi Bears! (He doesn't like gum drops either, but he loves Gummi Bears!)

A Year of Blogging: February 14, 2011

I am behind again with this blog. It is almost enough to make me give up. I am sure my readers will forgive me for being so behind with this one when they find out my reason (if they don't already know). So lets dive in. I think everyone knows what February 14 is. My four year old niece knows. My 85 year old Grandfather knows. I don't need to tell you that February 14 was Valentine's Day. I frequently think about my blogs during the day, when I'm at work, or going through my daily routine. I originally planned to let my readers know why I do not like February 14. Some people would think it is because I am single and feel left out. However, those people would be wrong. My feelings are you should be able to give someone love and affection all through the year. If you cannot be kind and loving to me the other 364 days of the year, don't bother doing it one day in the middle of February. I am possibly one of the few women who does not want flowers on Valentine's Day. I know how much the prices are inflated, and I would rather have flowers any other time of year but Valentine's Day. I can't enjoy them knowing they cost three times the normal amount. Are you a scrooge if you hate Valentine's Day? This year, Valentine's Day brought something else. My Grandmother, who had been battling Stage 4 Liver and Colon cancer since November, lost her battle. She had been going downhill rapidly for a couple of weeks, and on Saturday, February 12, my dad called early that morning to tell me he didn't think she'd live through the day. The family had all been called, the minister was called, and they were just waiting. By Saturday night, she was slightly better. I actually talked to her on the phone. Sunday afternoon brought another call from Dad, another 'it won't be long'. Monday morning, I talked to my mom and she was the same. Then at 10:30 am, Mom called and said she was gone. I came home, booked a flight, packed a suitcase, and at 4:00 the next morning, we left for the airport. A little after noon, I was sitting at Olive Garden with my mom, her sister, and Sydney. As I learned more about Gram's passing, I had a different impression of Valentine's Day. My Grandparents met when she was 16 or 17. Grandpa was four years older. He said she was the pretty farm girl, and he fell in love. They met at a dance, and someone bet my Grandpa a bottle of beer that he couldn't take her home. Grandpa won the bet, and her heart. He gave her a ring after she graduated from high school. They married two weeks to the day after her 18th birthday. Grandpa wanted to make sure she was 18. They married on November 27, 1947. Grandpa is Catholic, and Grandma is Protestant. All her life, she attended the small mountain church her Grandfather built. They said their vows first in her church, then went to the Catholic church and said them again in front of the Priest. They continued to attend their separate churches all 63 years of their marriage. Both were very active in their churches, and respected each other's beliefs. I have always admired their faith, and their ability to worship differently. Together they had 10 children, burying two infant daughters. They watched the eight remaining children marry and have families of their own. They danced at the weddings of their grandchildren, and rejoiced as the family grew with the births of each of the twelve great-grandchildren- the most recent being my nephew Drew in August. Any time there was a family party, you knew at some point you would hear 'Tennessee Waltz' playing. I only need to hear the first few notes of their song, and I see them dancing- arm in arm, looking just as much in love as they were when they first danced to that song all those years ago. In recent years, Grandpa cared for Grandma. She gave up driving several years ago, so he drove her everywhere. He dressed her. He always did most of the cooking. When she received the grim diagnosis a couple of months ago, he decided to honor her wishes and bring her home. It was extremely rough on the children, who now found themselves adding caregiver to their list of activities. Somehow, the family pulled through and did it. There were periods of drama, but that is to be expected in a family of 57 people. Grandma was able to die in her house; the house Grandpa built for his family 57 years ago. My Grandmother loved greeting cards. She sent cards for everything- birthdays, holidays, when you needed a bit of encouragement. The last card she gave was to Grandpa. It was a Valentine's card. The card describes their relationship so perfectly. It says that he is all she ever wanted and needed, her perfect valentine. It is truly beautiful. So beautiful that Grandpa asked my mom to read it at the funeral. It seemed this card was written just for them, and put 63 years of marriage into a few eloquent lines. She left instructions with one of Dad's sisters to give the card to Grandpa on Monday. I cannot remember the exact wording of the card, but it left everyone in tears. In the two days leading up to Valentine's Day, Grandma & Grandpa's house had been filled with their children, grandchildren, and even some of the great-grandchildren. Yet, in the end, it was just the two of them. Everyone else was in the kitchen, and Grandma and Grandpa were in the living room. Grandpa said he held her hand, gave her a kiss, and told her he loved her. He sat there, and he said it wasn't five minutes that he felt the strength go out of her hand. He looked over; her head was turned away from him and she was gone. When I thought about it, it seemed so fitting that it was just the two of them together at the end. On Valentine's Day.

A Year of Blogging: February 13, 2011

Today is 'Get a Different Name' day. There have been times I've longed for a different name. As a child, I got so tired of having to pronounce my last name for people. Or to spell it. I wished for a name as easy as Smith or Jones. I could tell when someone was trying to pronounce my name, and stumbling over that task. This happened on the first day of school every year. As the teacher goes through the alphabetical list of students in the class, when he got to Jason (who came just before me in the alphabet from Kindergarten through 12th grade), and then it was 'Amy...... (long pause as they try to figure out my name). I raised my hand and said 'Premo'. It was easier than having them butcher my name. Of course, it is spelled Primeau, but pronounced Premo. Long e. Long o. I didn't understand why my Grandfather and Dad got so upset if we went to a restaurant and they mispronounced our name. Who cares how strangers pronounce our name? As I got older, and realized the name is part of me, I understood their feelings a lot better. Especially after my divorce, when I took back my maiden name. It is something I am proud of. I still bristle at people mispronouncing it, and in the office, I usually just tell clients to call me Amy. I'm the only Amy in the office, so there's no need to use my last name. I love it when I find people who can pronounce my name. I've found they are usually either people with some knowledge of the French language, Canadian, or hockey fans. Yes, hockey fans. There was a hockey player Keith Primeau. He was a great player. I know when someone is a hockey fan when they see my last name and ask 'Any relation to Keith Primeau?'. They are of course shocked when I reply 'Yes. He's my cousin.' I give them a couple of seconds to absorb this and then I tell them 'but my cousin isn't the hockey player.' As much as my last name has vexed me over 34 years; it is my first name that I have most wished could be changed. For the better part of my life, I have hated my first name. I always thought Elizabeth (my middle name) would have been much better as a first name. Amy is so dull, so boring, so short. It's very methodical: the first letter of the alphabet, one from the middle, and one from the end. A tall pointy letter, a humped round letter, and one that goes below the lines. Added to my disappointment is there aren't many ways to shorten it, as readers of my blogs know. Some people tried to call me Ames (a discount department store). Most people who tried that found themselves on the other side of my right hook. (My roommate in college was Hilary. I know at least one person called us Ames & Hills. Both of us took offense!) Amy was also one of the most popular names for girls in the 1970s, so there are a lot of us. Whenever I went to a souvenir store or any place where they had personalized items, Amy was usually sold out. In high school, I tried to change my name. I changed it to Aimee for a while. It was so much prettier to write than Amy. And so French! Oh la la. I'm kidding. But no one else in school spelled their name Aimee. I was different. For my pen name, I used A. Elizabeth. I always thought that had a much nicer ring to it. I would change my name to A. Elizabeth and people could call me Liz. Not Beth- I have a cousin Beth. But we didn't have a Liz. When I went to college, I stopped trying to change my name. At some point, my mother told me how she chose Amy as my name. She always like Little Women, and she liked the name Amy. I felt better knowing I had a literary based name, and it wasn't chosen just because it was popular. Little Women has been one of my favorite stories since the first time I read it, in grade school. I have come to accept my name, and even to like it a little. Although, if we were using Little Women as the basis for my name; Meg would have been a far better choice.

A Year of Blogging: February 12, 2011

Today is Abraham Lincoln's birthday. He is one of my favorite Presidents. I have read about him extensively, and find him fascinating. I might not have taken such an interest in him, if he hadn't been the President during the Civil War, which is a time period I have been studying a lot. Today is also Plum Pudding day. I like pudding: chocolate, vanilla, even butterscotch. But plum pudding is something I've never eaten. All I can think of is the pudding served on Christmas in Victorian era books. Of course, that is the furthest thing from the pudding I'm used to. It doesn't appeal to me at all. Most of the pudding I've had is the kind that comes in a small box. Mom would make the cooked kind, but I make the instant kind. When I want my chocolate pudding, I want it now! I also like vanilla pudding with fresh strawberries sliced on top. Whether you decided to split rails or eat plum pudding, I hope you made the most of your day!

A Year of Blogging: February 11, 2011

February 11 was 'Don't Cry Over Spilled Milk' day. Don't worry about the small stuff. Crap happens, you just have to learn to deal with it. Easier said than done, but I am trying. We planned to have Erich's folks over tonight for dinner. Erich's birthday is in a couple of days, so this was also the annual 'have his parents over to celebrate his birthday' dinner. I had grand plans for dinner: a beef stew (one of his favorites), biscuits, and two desserts: key lime cupcakes for Erich and something else for anyone (myself) who doesn't like key lime. It was going to be a very nice dinner. The reality was far from my plans. Last night I re-read the key lime cupcake recipe, and decided it was more work than I could handle. So I found a recipe for a key lime poke cake- you poke holes in the cake and fill it with a key lime filling. It sounded easier than the cupcakes which had a filling, glaze, and frosting. I planned to go out to the the store first thing this morning, and start baking. Then my father called at 7:30 this morning, my Grandmother was much worse. Erich called his parents and told them the dinner party may be off. I waited until about 3pm before I finally decided we would still have the dinner party. By then, it was too late to make a dessert. I started working on the stew, and sent Erich to the store. I told him to get a small plain cheesecake. One of my coworkers told me she had some of the raspberry jam I made over plain cheesecake and it was delicious. So that was the emergency dessert plan! Erich forgot to call his parents until 4pm to tell them the party was on. His dad had just eaten a little, and his mom had gone out. I sat here at 5:30, with food ready, and I wasn't sure I had any company coming. But I didn't fret. If they didn't come, we still had to eat. Just as I started to wonder if they were coming, the dogs spotted them walking in front of the house. When I served the stew, it was much thicker than normal, and looked a little more orange. I think the carrots and potatoes started to break down, thickening the broth. It wasn't the prettiest, but it tasted great, and everyone left full. And the cheater dessert went well too, and was just enough. So while it wasn't the fabulous dinner party I envisioned, it turned out fine. And at least the house looked great- I used my negative energy today to clean! Right now, the last thing I'm crying over is spilled milk!

A Year of Blogging: February 10, 2011

February 10 was Umbrella Day. To me, February is an odd time of year to have Umbrella day. That would be more appropriate in say, April, when you get all the spring showers. While it seems pretty silly to have Umbrella Day (and you thought Toothache Day was ridiculous!), umbrellas themselves are pretty important. If you don't want to get wet, that is. If you don't mind getting wet, then you probably just get up, see it's raining, and walk out the door. But if you've taken the time to shower, fix your hair, and put some care into your outfit, you don't want to have it all ruined by a rain shower. I have a habit of leaving my umbrellas places. Not random places like the bank, but rather- the last place I used it. For instance, if I took the umbrella into the office in the morning, but it wasn't raining when I left at night, then I'd leave the umbrella in my office. And it would stay there until the next time it rained. Which was usually in the morning- when I was trying to get from my car to the office without the aforementioned drenching. Then I remember my umbrella is sitting next to my desk, taunting me. Or when I try to leave the office in a downpour, and realize my umbrella is in the front seat of my car! So I have an umbrella at the office, several in the car (just in case others are with me),and one in the house. I think an umbrella is also possibly the most bizarre souvenir I've ever bought. When I was 16, our high school offered a trip during Spring Break to Madrid and Paris. My sister and I jumped at the chance. Our group consisted of the two of us, and two other girls in Laura's class. Paris in April can be very wet. I don't remember if my sister and I packed one umbrella between us, or if we didn't pack one at all. Our second day in Paris, we got drenched. We stepped into an expensive store (the name escapes me now) to get out of the rain, and spotted umbrellas for sale. They were really cool umbrellas with handles shaped like a duck head. My sister and I bought one, and it was used extensively for the remainder of the trip. I know we paid too much for it, but it was fun telling everyone at home 'we bought this in Paris'. Like we went to Paris so frequently, that it was common to buy a duck head umbrella!

A Year of Blogging: February 9, 2011

February 9 was Toothache Day. That seems like a lousy thing to celebrate. Toothaches are not fun. Dentists are not fun. I hate dentists. Well, not the person, but the profession. When I was 13, I had to have braces. I actually had my first consultation with the orthodontist on my 13th birthday. Happy Birthday! When our dentist told my mom I needed braces, she wasn't really surprised. It was what he said next that floored her. "Amy has a small mouth." He meant this as an explanation- my teeth were crowding each other out and overlapping. They were going to have to pull four molars to give more room for the remaining teeth. My mother, however, said "Are you sure you're talking about MY Amy? Her mouth is NOT small". Haha, Mom! About a month after my first visit with the orthodontist, it was off to the dentist one Saturday. He removed a molar from the top and the bottom on one side of my mouth. The following Saturday it was back for the other side. In another couple of weeks, it was time for the first of over three years of visits to the orthodontist. Most times my mouth hurt so much after an orthodontist appointment, I wasn't able to eat solid food. We always made a stop at Ted's Fish Fry, because they had the best coffee milkshakes. My mom also got really good at making milkshakes. It's a wonder I wasn't 300 lbs, because there were many days that my only nutrition came from milkshakes, pudding, or jello (I don't like soup, so I wouldn't eat it). In true Amy form, I was allergic to the metal on the braces, so I had to wear special rubber bumpers and use lots of wax. I don't know anyone who's enjoyed having braces, but for me, it was pure hell. When the braces finally came off- the orthodontist delivered the final punch: they took the braces off, I went into another room for an xray, and then he said 'your wisdom teeth have to come out, or your teeth will move again because you'll have the same crowding problem'. My wisdom teeth hadn't even started coming in, and they wanted to take them out! I think I ran out of the office screaming. I refused to let them take my wisdom teeth. I had had enough of dentists, orthodontists, and those miserable chairs. My parents felt I had been through enough, and if I needed the wisdom teeth out later, we'd deal with it then. 19 years later, I still have the wisdom teeth. They've never come all the way through. My other teeth have shifted a little, but it's not really noticeable. My jaw was realigned so much that I have TMJ, and there are still days my jaw hurts so much I have to resort to a milkshake. Milkshake dinners aren't as fun as they were when I was 14!

A Year of Blogging: February 8, 2011

February 8 was Boy Scout Day. This year the Boy Scouts are 100 years old. As a female, obviously I was not a Boy Scout. My father was a scout at some point; and a couple of years ago I discovered that Mom's father was a Boy Scout also. Two years ago, after my Grandmother passed away, my Aunt shipped me boxes full of photos, family history stuff, and momentos. In one of these boxes was a small candy box. The box itself was deteriorated to the point that it could not be saved. Inside the box were items that belonged to my Grandfather as a boy. I could tell that each item had been placed there with great care. There were hand embroidered handkerchiefs that were folded neatly into a small rectangle. Letters from his favorite Aunt were still in the envelopes, the ends of the envelopes carefully opened with a straight edge instrument (maybe a pocket knife). There was a Boy Scout handbook, and a progress card from his Scoutmaster. I could picture my grandfather putting his most prized possessions there, and then securing the box in a special place- under his bed, or maybe under the floorboard. I had never seen the box before, so I'm not sure where he hid it as an adult. Maybe in his tool shed. I didn't know my grandfather had been a boy scout until I found this box. Mom said she remembered him talking about being a Boy Scout, but I didn't. Also included in the box were letters from his mother. She wrote the letters to him while he was away at Camp Rotary, the boy scout camp in our area. The camp is still used by Boy Scouts. It is about 15 minutes (by car) from my mother's house (which is next door to the house my Grandpa grew up in). But you have to go over the mountain to get there. When my grandfather attended as a boy, you would have had to go by horse and wagon. It must have seemed like another world! Now, it wouldn't even seem like you had left home, but when Grandpa was there, he stayed for a several weeks at a time. His mother wrote him several letters. He was her oldest child, and it is obvious from the letters that she missed him. It had to have been hard for her too- sending her son so many miles away for weeks. She wrote about what had been happening at home: in town, as well as what his brother and sisters were doing. She also wrote that she hoped to get to visit him the following weekend. Every time I go home to NY, we drive past the camp. In order to get to my sister's house from mom's, we go right past it. I can't help but imagine the same journey 90 years ago. The letters from my great-grandmother were an extra treasure- later in life she was crippled by Rheumatoid Arthritis, and wasn't able to write much, if at all. After sorting through the momentos, I turned to the photo albums. I was thrilled to find photos of my grandfather in his boy scout uniform. He's standing next to a good sized trunk, which was probably everything he needed for a couple weeks at camp. There were also photos that looked to be of Camp Rotary, so I emailed the photos to a Ranger at Camp Rotary. He was able to tell me what the buildings were, and was thrilled to see such old pictures. The best we could figure is that the pictures were from the mid 1920s. I think the camp started around 1922, so these were very early pictures of the camp. While I didn't know Grandpa had been a Boy Scout, I know it meant a lot to him. He kept these reminders all his life, and then they were passed to me. I will treasure them, just as he did.

A Year of Blogging: February 7, 2011

Today is Charles Dickens Day. It was on this day, February 7, 199 years ago, that Mr. Dickens was born. Charles Dickens is one of my favorite authors. Or rather, he is the author of one of my favorite books, A Christmas Carol. I do not remember the first time I read A Christmas Carol. I remember reading Great Expectations in 8th or 9th grade English. I don't remember which year exactly, because I had the same English teacher both years. We read A Tale of Two Cities in 10th grade English. I was excited to read more Dickens, but it was always hard to read the stories in class. I usually got so absorbed in the book that I read ahead, and then had to wait for my classmates to catch up. Plus, discussing the book over and over again causes me to lose interest. I really need to re-read both books, I think I might view them differently if I read them for enjoyment rather than assignment. My first exposure to A Christmas Carol came in grade school. We took a field trip to the theater to see the play. Field trips were always very exciting. Those were the rare times we were allowed to have soda at school. Mom would take the cold can of soda and wrap it in aluminum foil to keep it cold. Then she put our name on a strip of masking tape and put it around the can. The teachers would collect our lunches- putting the paper bags into a box, and the drinks into a cooler. It might be the same PB&J that you always ate, but it tasted special when washed down with a Pepsi! The first time I saw the play, I was mesmerized. I fell in love with the story and the characters. I didn't want it to end. It was truly magical. It is possible that I went home and made a trip to the town library for the book. I have read the book so many times, and watched the play even more times, I know the story almost word for word. After that first time in grade school, I saw the play at least once a year through college. I know my parents got sick of the play; but for me, it became a Holiday tradition. And the story is still just as magical as it was that very first time- I get goosebumps every time.

A Year of Blogging: February 6, 2011

Yesterday was the Super Bowl. I normally do not get into the Super Bowl. I know some people watch it just for the commercials. The commercials never really interested me. While I am very passionate about college football, I have always felt the sport loses something once you get to the Pro level. The passion for the game gets replaced by greed. For money and attention and fame. So when someone asks me who my favorite football team is, I always provide a little disclaimer. "I really don't follow Pro football, but..." An odd statement considering my parents took their honeymoon to the Pro Football Hall of Fame in Canton, OH. That's right. My parents went to Canton, OH for their honeymoon. In DECEMBER. You are nodding your head- because now you know why I'm a little off-kilter. For as long as I can remember, my father has had a picture on his dresser of my mom. She is standing in front of Vince Lombardi's bust at the Hall of Fame. I think it remains his favorite picture of her. We once asked my mom what possessed her to go to the Football Hall of Fame for her honeymoon. She said "I was in love. When you're in love, you'll go anywhere." My sister disagreed, and said "No, I'm going to Disney World for my honeymoon." And she did! If you know who Vince Lombardi is, you know who my dad's favorite team is. The Green Bay Packers. So I am a cheesehead by default. I only watch the Super Bowl if the Packers are in it. Which means I watched last nights' game. The game was ok- I didn't fall asleep during the game. I missed the flub of the National Anthem. The commercials weren't interesting enough to keep my attention. They seemed no different than commercials on any other day. I thought the half-time show was mediocre. I enjoy the Black Eyed Peas, I'm just sick of them. It seems like they are everywhere. Overall, I realized why I don't normally watch the Super Bowl. It's over-hyped. But, at least the Packers won. Now I have to find a new hat for my dad! Maybe I'll get a shirt for myself. I highly recommend next year watching the Puppy Bowl on Animal Planet. I watched the first showing, between 3-5. It is just adorable. Little puppies playing and roughhousing. It is a lot of cuteness and fun for not much hype!

A Year of Blogging: February 5, 2011

Today is Disaster Day. It is also National Weatherman's Day. It is amusing that the two should coincide. So many natural disasters relate to weather: tornadoes, blizzards, hurricanes. The past week has seen many parts of the country dealing with the brunt of mother nature. People have been snow bound, iced in, frozen out; it has just been nasty. It never ceases to amaze me that weathermen (and women) rush towards a disaster. If there is a major hurricane coming, you can turn to the Weather Channel and find their team of meteorologists on location, right where the worst of the storm is expected to be. They will tell you 'you must get out now', all while standing in the midst of it, determined to ride it out. Sometimes I do think their determination borders on stupidity. Just get out! While watching the Weather Channel the other night, Chicago experienced Thunder Snow. The meteorologist who was covering it actually swore on air, he was so excited. When they replayed it later, they tried to cover it up. But if you saw it live, you heard him swear a couple of times. He looked like an adrenaline junkie getting a fix. Which I suppose is true, the meteorologists seem to have a great passion for their careers. Have you ever seen the weatherman deliver the forecast with a 'I really don't give a damn' attitude? They always have such enthusiasm, even if they are telling you it's going to snow for ten days in a row.

A Year of Blogging: February 4, 2011

February 4 was 'Thank a Mailman Day'. I did not know that, but I didn't see any mailmen (or mail women) anywhere during the day. I felt bad for them all week, having to walk on the ice and snow. I don't know our mail person's name. It seems every week or two we have a different mail person delivering our mail. I always know when they arrive, because the dogs start barking like mad. They do not like people walking up to our house. People in uniforms are especially threatening. I try to remember the mail person at Christmas, and leave a tin of cookies in the mail box with a thank you note. I know they have to work in all kinds of weather. While I can call in when it's icy, they have to keep going. Although, there have been big storms here in Ohio when we haven't had any mail delivery- so I don't completely buy the 'neither rain nor snow' bit. So thank you to all the mail carriers! A special thank you to my cousin, Craig!

A Year of Blogging: February 3, 2011

Well, once again, it is the weekend and I am a couple days behind on the blogging. Thursday was the 'Day the Music Died' . You may recognize this line from Don McLean's song "American Pie". In 1959, a plane crash killed three American rock stars: The Big Bopper, Buddy Holly, and Ritchie Valens. I have to admit, I had no idea who these people were until the movie 'La Bamba' came out in 1987. The accident was some 17 years before I was born, my mother was only 5 1/2 at the time. We listened to country music in our house. I knew Patsy Cline had died in a plane crash, and I knew Hank Williams had died at a young age. By the time 'La Bamba' came out, we had seen 'Sweet Dreams' several times. My sister loved the movie 'La Bamba' and we watched it over and over. I could never watch the plane crash scenes- back to my fear of flying, I guess. I haven't seen it in years, but I think I still know it by heart.

A Year of Blogging: February 2, 2011

Today is Groundhog Day. Which I was surprised to learn is observed only in the US and Canada. Each February 2, we turn our attention to small rodents to see if they see their shadow. If they do not, then we will have an early spring. If this furry critter sees it's shadow, we will have six more weeks of winter. Thing is, Spring is about six weeks away. With any luck, we are through the worst of winter. Whether or not the Groundhog sees his shadow, the season will change (at least on the calendar) in a few more weeks. This year, most of the Groundhogs (and it seems each state has their own 'authority') did not see their shadow so we should have an early spring. Everyone that I know has found that odd. Of course, most of these same people are still digging out from the massive winter storm that affected 2/3 of the US the past couple of days. Friends in NY have said "I don't think this snow will melt until June!" People at work said "Spring is never going to come!" It seemed everyone was scoffing at the groundhog's prediction, and this was the favored outcome. Most people want to hear that there will be an early spring. Who wants six more weeks of winter? I like winter, but even I get tired of it! I wonder what people would have said if the Groundhog had predicted six more weeks of winter!

A Year of Blogging: February 1, 2011

Today is Freedom Day. According to holidayinsights.com today is Freedom day because on February 1, 1865 Abraham Lincoln signed the 13th Amendment, which outlawed slavery. National Freedom Day was established in 1948. The day is supposed to remind us of freedom for all Americans. I have always thought the day to celebrate our freedom was July 4. That is Independence Day. Although, now that I think about it, we are celebrating our Independence from England. We celebrate the country. So I guess today is to celebrate the freedoms we have as individuals in this country that is free from England. Unlike some days, like Chocolate Cake Day, which can be celebrated worldwide; freedom day is a very US holiday. Other countries and democracies around the world may have freedoms, but it seems National Freedom Day was directly tied to a major event in US History. So I wondered what is today in other parts of the world? I could only find information for one other country. In Malaysia, February 1 is Federal Territory Day. It is a state holiday commemorating the formation of the Federal Territory in 1974. Today is also Clark Gable's Birthday. Gone With The Wind is my favorite movie. He is so sexy, so charming. With a hint of danger. Which is exactly what Rhett should be. I have tried to watch other Clark Gable movies, but I am never able to get past him as Rhett Butler, and therefore have difficulty putting him into other stories. No doubt, if I had been a teenager 60 years earlier, it would have been Clark Gable I was swooning over, not Neil Patrick Harris or River Phoenix! February is National Cherry Month. I wonder if that is a tribute to George Washington. This is the only time of year I can get Cherry Cobbler at Bob Evans'. The cherry cobbler is warm, and sweet, topped with vanilla ice cream- it is one of the few times I'll pass up chocolate! It also brings back memories of spending Winter Break in Florida with my Grandparents. We went to Florida each February. Dad had tickets to the Daytona 500 and Grandma and Grandpa lived about 30 minutes from Daytona. We stayed with them, which worked out perfectly. We did not have Bob Evans' in New York, so it was a special treat in Florida. It wasn't until I moved to the Midwest that I discovered the cherry cobbler is only available in February. Mmmm. I can almost taste the cobbler now. Too bad it's an ice storm outside; even though today is Freedom day, I'm being held captive inside my house by mother nature!