Made in Richmond

I woke up at 7 in the A.M. this morning to let the dogs out (yes, it was me. again.) and fed them and what not. After puttering around the downstairs and readings some Interents, I realized that it was almost 8. I knew if I went back to bed I wouldn’t wake up until noon. So I went to the gym. Yes. It’s true. I went to the gym at 8 on a Saturday. Not only that, I was the first one customer there. Because you’re interested, here’s what I did:

• 15 minutes on the incline treadmill (incline ranging from 10%-20%) at an average speed of 4.5 mph
• 15 minutes on the elliptical
• 15 minutes on the bike
• Leg pressed 100lbs. REPEATEDLY while reading People magazine
• Did some arm stuff (I don’t know how much because it never lasts long)
• 15 minutes on regular treadmill using 5lb. weights.

Then I came home and ate breakfast that was NOT a McDonald’s sausage biscuit. Now I will shower and possible take down our Christmas decorations. Maybe.

I got a haircut and some hi-lights today, so I figured I’d do-up the blog as well. I even put Google Ads on here, but it was giving me some error message when I was trying to mess with the layout and whatnot. So, sorry if you keep seeing the same ad over and ad. And more sorry for me if it makes me no money.

For a good laugh at my expense, click here and please note the ads that appear at the bottom of the post.

Friends, I have to tell you about something wonderful. I was reading an old issue of Real Simple and I saw a little blurb from this lady who takes extra virgin olive oil, mixes it with a little bit of sugar, and uses it to exfoliate her face. O.M.G. I did this the other night and it was amazing. You obviously need to scrub very gently and avoid the eye area, but it makes your face so smooth. There will be a little olive oil left on your face after rinsing, but it apparently works as a great moisturizer because I woke up with the softest face this side of a baby’s butt.

*Note: You probably won’t want to do this in the morning, what with the olive oil that’s left on your skin. Or I guess you could just rub your face into your salad at lunch and call the scrub multi-functional.

Listen, anonymous, until you have the guts to actually post who you are, I would shut your face. I never said I hated my job, I said I wasn’t liking it right now. And yes, believe it or not, sometimes it’s hard to love a job where you spend most of the time getting yelled at by people who do not value you as a professional and are more concerned with being right than with the welfare of their child. And sometimes I don’t like how I’m sick 9 months out of the year because kids sneeze in my face all day. It’s not always fun dealing with children being blatantly disrespectful to adults and other children. Call me crazy.

Almost every dish we own is piled up in the sink and some of them most definitely have NOT been rinsed.

I have had the same pile of dirty towels and sheets lying on the floor of our bedroom for the last two weeks.

Our Christmas decorations are still up.

There is a nice film of dog hair over pretty much every surface of the house.

Instead of emptying the overflowing trashcan in the bathroom, we just put it in the bath tub so the dogs can’t get into it.

We are a complete disaster.

I am having a VERY ROUGH WEEK. This week is making it hard for me to be nice to anyone and has sent me into fits and rants pretty much nonstop. Like earlier this week, I saw a copy of GoodHouseKeeping in the lounge with Tom Cruise on the cover. Well, we all now that PMS and Tom Cruise are a recipe for disaster. I spent about 10 minutes ridiculing his too-frequent use of the word magnificent. I was seriously out of breath by the time I was done.

My children have lost their minds. I must set a timer for everything they do, order their movements around with buzzers, and have them walk down the hall with their hands over their mouths. I don’t like them very much right no, or my job for that matter. I’ll tell you that Ross and I have opened the discussion for a possible career change on my part.

I went to the dentist today. I usually start flossing about 6 weeks before my appointment to make it look like I’m dilligent. Well, this time I didn’t start flossing until this past Monday. They still told me I was doing a great job with the flossing. Chumps. But yay for me!

I stole another picture from Jane. What you see below is the group of lovely ladies who knitted for the Red Scarf Project. Notice how my head is tilted up as to not show my double chin.

I finally get to have my hair hilighted on Friday. I know how spoiled that sounds but the naturally mousy color of my hair does not help my mood.

Friday morning: Got to gym by 6:00, did 40 minute workout, came home, showered, dressed, ate, went to work early, did some knitting before I technically had to start working.

Friday day: Taught, tore my hair out, taught some more, remaining hair turned white.

Friday evening: Took nap with hubby, ordered dinner from Carytown Burgers and Fries, watched Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire while finishing Remus’s hat, went to bed.

Saturday morning: Slept.

Saturday afternoon: Went to gym, worked out for almost 2 hours, came home, showered, went to Ben Franklin, ABC store, and grocery store, came home and ate dinner, watched the Gauntlet starring Clint Eastwood and a few episodes on Nip/Tuck, went to bed.

Sunday morning: Slept.

Saturday afternoon: Went to the Hardshell with the fam to celebrate grandma’s 96th (!!!!!) birthday (she looked so pretty as usual), came home, made communion bread for church, went to church, suddenly stricken with wicked headache during church, left 10 minutes into the service, came home, passed out, woke up, ate dinner, knitted somemore, took pictures of Shooter because he’s so cute, watched TV, went to bed.

Very little got accomplished this weekend, but at least I got some rest.

In addition to the Weekend Wrap-Up, I’m going to start sharing with you, Internets friends, some of my most favorite things in life. Sometimes they will be objects, sometimes they will be people. You’ll just have to keep coming back to find out.

First we have this:

This is our Presto Heatdish. It follows us around the house during the winter. Or we follow it. Since our house was built in 1912, our windows and doors don’t so much shut. Since it is 2007, our fireplaces don’t so much work. So, we’re left to find other ways to keep warm. Ross’s parents bought us this from Costco a year or so ago and we wouldn’t make it through the cold nights without it. Zapp likes to sleep directly in front of it to make up for the fact that she, unlike Shooter our German Shepherd, has no undercoat.

What you see here is the Catrow Family bike rack. I have spent the better part of our marriage tripping over Ross’s bike(s). Rather than throwing another temper tantrum, I suggested that we somehow mount the bikes to the wall in our dining room. In a fit of productivity, we actually went out, bought the supplies, and proceeded with my suggestion, ALL IN THE SAME DAY. Seeing this reminds me of how I don’t get bike grease on my new pants while walking through the hallway anymore and of the time that we actually did something.

This is perhaps my most favorite spot in our house. First of all, it’s pretty dark in this corner so you can’t really see the layers of dust on everything. And second, it’s a crazy combination of things we love. You’ll see Ross’s walking stick from Scouts leaning in the corner. The desk is an antique that my mom gave me. Ross’s Eagle Scout blanket is folded up on the seat of the desk. The tool box is Ross’s great-grandfather’s and had “Catrow” stenciled on it. Those are ridiculous pictures of Ross when he was little (yes, he is dressed as a cowboy in the one on the right). And who can leave out the pictures of Robert E. Lee, Stonewall Jackson, and a random Confederate soldier? I love that this is one of the first things people see when they walk into our house. Oh, and the Lee picture isn’t crooked. Either our floors or our walls or our ceiling is.

So there you have it. Stay tuned until next week. Maybe YOU’LL make the cut, friend.

Ross and I were able to go to the grocery store without wanting to kill each other.

Anyone who has ever looked in our fridge knows that we very rarely have any real food. We just have condiments that we put on the food that we order in. Sometimes we go to the grocery store just to buy things for one particular meal, but we make “real” trips to the store about once a month, if that. I like to think that we will live forever because of all the preservatives we eat.

But today we took a major step. After both of us had gone out and gotten exercise (awhaaaahhhhhh? left is right, up is down, Britney is classy), we decided that it had to be done: We needed to make a menu and actually buy the food to make the things on said menu. And we did. On a piece of paper. We even wrote down the corresponding cookbooks and page numbers for the recipes we chose. I think the angels might have wept.

After stopping at Ben Franklin where I bought some delicious yarn that I was going to use to make fingerless gloves but came home and discovered it was too thin to use, and following a trip to the ABC store to buy to most bo-bo braind of vodka for one of our recipes, we entered the Kroger at Willow Lawn.

Immediately I thought it was going to be a nightmare. It wasn’t the *real* Kroger (i.e. the Kroger in Carytown) and we couldn’t find a bunch of the things we needed. It was a recipe for disaster, a moment that could make or break our relationship. Luckily, love won out in the end and I only wanted to yell at Ross (not strangle him) when he left me to push the cart or would stop abruptly right in my path while the inertia of our packed cart was almost to great for my mighty arms to fight against. I could have let the cart hit him, but I didn’t. He was trying so hard to be helpful and he is much better at picking out produce than me.

“Do you have something to tell us?”
“Any good news for us yet?”

No. No there is no “good news” unless you are referring to the fact that I’m now very good at knitting with doulbe pointed needles or that it’s quite warm out. I am not pregnant. Not. pregnant. And thanks for constantly reminding me of the fact that I’m not.

Ok, I really don’t want to be harsh, it’s just kind of frustrating to constantly be asked if you are pregnant when A) you want to be, B) aren’t, and C) probably won’t be anytime soon because we currently consider going to Taco Bell as a fancy excursion.

It’s really kind of absurd how often I get asked this question. My response is always, “No, why?” Here are some reasons I’ve been given:

“Well, you’re hair is brown and it used to be blonde, so….”
“You’re 25.” (?!?!??!?!?!?!!)
“You started knitting.”
“You go to the bathroom a lot.”

I was always under the impression that ovulation + sex + fertilization = pregnancy.
But, apparently not coloring your hair, having a birthday, getting a hobby, and having a small bladder can make you pregnant, too. Watch out, ladies.