The Blizzard of Aught Nine

Oh yes. I was there. I will be able to tell my grandchildren all about the storm that took the town by surprise. Wichita Falls Texas has indeed made a name for itself. You thought they got a lot of publicity when the Cowboys decided to train there? Well, that was nothing my friend. Nothing compared to the stories that will regale about the Blizzard of Aught Nine.



Bryan, Jaymes, the 2 dogs and I arrived by suppertime the night before Christmas Eve. We parked the car on the grass in the folks backyard and unloaded our gift laden Toyota. Since other family members were joining us for the holiday, we readily agreed to sleep in the travel trailer parked in the yard in it's custom made carport. It gives us plenty of room to move around and the privacy and quiet that we sometimes crave when there are lots of people around. Besides that, I prefer not EVERYone see me in the morning. It's hard enough on my husband, son and dogs.



By nature, I think that's what the cause is, I am an early riser. Usually, no later than around 5:30 a.m. I have the coffee going and am getting ready to let the dogs go out. This morning would be no different. At least where the time was concerned. When I opened the trailer door it was raining pretty hard. So I caught the dogs and we all agreed that we would wait awhile before stepping out to do our business. I crawled back into bed and snuggled down to catch a few more winks. After all, this was vacation right?



When my eyes opened again, I was shocked to see that I had slept in. Me! Sleeping past 8???? "My goodness" I thought as I once again prepared to take the dogs out, "I must have really needed the extra rest". From the quiet, I could tell that the rain had finally let up so I went ahead and opened the door for the dogs. I now have a PRETTY good idea what the term "The first step is a doosey" means. It seems that while I was nestled all snug in my bed, old man winter had decided to drop an inch of snow !!!!!!! That first metal step out of the trailer dang near landed me in the hospital. As I drug myself back inside, I took one last look towards the house. The path was a slushy icy mess. What were we going to do???? We only had enough good water for one pot of coffee and I could polish that off by myself. Our other staples consisted of the thawing turkey and the extra orange juice. All of the delicious cookies and candies and fudge that I made for this wonderful gathering, were inside the house with those other family members. We were doomed.



So I did what any red blooded American would do in a crisis situation. I reached for my cell phone and called my mom, who was of course staying in the house, with those other family members. She answers the phone in her most preciously calm yet chipper voice "Good morning sweetheart. Did you sleep well?". I am appalled. "Did I sleep well????" I choke out in reply. "Have ya even looked out your dad-gum back door and noticed that SOME of your family is snowed in, without food or water?" I so wanted to say, but didn't. "Mom, maybe you should open the sliding glass curtains and take a look outside", I coo instead. "Oh my" she says quietly, "When did it start to snow.....oh look kids.....it's snowing.....come and see......what did you say dear?"



Finally, after putting on every article of clothing that we brought, the three of us slip, slide and slush our way, what seems like a mile and a half, to the back door with our snowy wet dogs on our heels. And for the next 12 hours the snow keeps coming and coming and coming. Would it never stop we cried. It was like there was a little energizer snowman huffing and puffing from the clouds. Our car was buried in the backyard. The carport over the trailer looked like it could collapse at anytime. My dad decided he should test the roads and go to the market. I was sitting in the recliner the whole time, and I swear I didn't know that they were stuck in the street half in and half out of the driveway, until I heard the neighbor talking to them about giving them a push. Bryan says I need to pay more attention to things like that. I say, "Don't try to drive in the snow ".



When the blowing wind and snow finally stopped, we all sighed in relief. The crisis was over. We were all safe and sound and could now stop worrying. But then I thought back on our previous night. We had made popcorn and watched "The Christmas Story" and laughed like crazy. Together. We had spent Christmas morning eating a great breakfast, opening presents and preparing the turkey and all of the fixings. Together. We watched football, played cards and ate every smidgen of the fudge I brought. Together. I guess it doesn't really sound so bad after all does it? You know how we Texans are.....we always have to have a great story to retell to the kids. And this will be mine.

Twas the Weak Before Christmas

Twas the "weak" before Christmas
And out on my porch
I was watching intently
For the "Ups" man of course.

The stockings were hung
On the old family hutch
With no fireplace for us
This will work in a clutch.

With me in my apron
Just baking away
The cookies and breads
For our big family day.

The presents were wrapped
With the ribbon and bows
The music was playing
Ahh yes, it's my zone.

Then all of a sudden,
my dogs start to chatter.
I rose from my chair
To see what was the matter.

I ran to the parlor,
Threw open the door.
I knew he was coming
Who the present was for.

Then what to my wandering eyes
Did I see?
That big old brown truck
He was parked by my tree.

I jumped off the porch
And I ran to his side
I signed my John Hancock
And my smile did not hide.

He might have worn brown
And his tummy didn't jiggle.
But I knew in my heart
He was really Kris Kringle.

I carefully carried
the box with such glee.
And put it down gently,
cause this one's for me!!

I turned and I waved
And I bid him adieu
I knew in my heart,
He had plenty to do.

Yet I heard him exclaim
as he drove down my road.
"Merry Christmas to all,
I have finished my load".

Livin' Velvetta Loco

Saaaayyyy Cheese !!!! It's such a cute little way to make you smile for a photo op. Everyone says it. No matter where you travel in the world, when someone says those magic words "Say cheese" everybody turns to the camera and displays their pearly whites. I bet you can't think of one professional photographer who doesn't pull this little verbiage out of his pocket when he is trying to get that "just so perfect" picture. Big smiles for all. I mean, after all, who doesn't like cheese?

As a young mother, I found that I could pretty much put a slice of this delectable stuff in a sandwich and my kids would scarf it down. Want them to eat their broccoli? Melt some of it over the steaming hot vegetable and it is gone in seconds. Sprinkle it from a jar and make your plain old spaghetti the hit of the night. Burgers, french fries, even salads have been adorned with this wonder of all wonders. Appetizers of fried cheese are on menus accompanied with marinara sauce for dipping. Toasted cheese sandwiches with a hot bowl of soup. Huge baked potatoes with melted cheese dripping down the sides with another favorite. Butter. Ahh the wonderful memories of it all.

My mom always makes this awesomely wonderful Asparagus Casserole for Thanksgiving and Christmas. It is baked to a perfect done-ness and then at the last minute she takes the cover off and lets the cheese get this golden crispy brown. It is to die for. The recipe calls for the juice from the cans of asparagus being stirred and heated with a jar of the Cheese Whiz for the sauce. Then you dice up 1/2 a dozen hard boiled eggs and a bunch of saltine crackers smashed ever so fine and layer it all in a baking dish. Can't ya just FEEL your arteries clogging up as you read this???? I know now why it only gets made at the holidays. We would all be wearing pacemakers from the heart attacks if she made it more.

I sometimes ask myself "when did the change happen to me"? You know. At what point did the "I can eat whatever I want and never put on a pound" change to "Oh my gosh.....those pants are WHAT size?" This shouldn't happen to anyone. How I am suppose to convince my children to eat their cheese-laden broccoli spears when I am forced to look them in the eye and tell them "well, I am watching my weight so I can't have cheese". I mean come on !!!! As a mother it is my responsibility to teach by example right? After all, when we decided to have children we made a commitment to them. To teach them, show them, and that's right, eat the same things that we want them to eat. It's my job. I should EAT the cheesy gooey yummy broccoli to show them how it is done. Right? Right? RIGHT?

These last few months, Mii and my Wii have been paying attention to the little things. You know. The calories. Now I am not saying that I never eat cheese anymore. No, no, no. But I do try to eat it less often. It's kind of like a trade off. I don't consume too much cheese and my hips feel better in the morning. It's not really so bad. With the children grown and living on their own now, the pressure to set a good example at the dinner table has been averted. We now add just a smidgen of seasoned salt to our veggies for that "oh.....so almost good" flavor. After all. We are adults. We don't need to cover up the wholesome natural flavor of our vegetables anymore right? We can handle the taste of any ol' steamed vegetable and at least LOOK like we're enjoying it naked. What's that honey? The grand-kids are coming to spend the night with us? Wooo Hooo! Break out the Cheese Whiz and buttered popcorn. I feel a good example coming on.

The Season's Greeting

I must admit that the Christmas season is one of my favorite times of year. I love all of the lights, the music, the cinnamon apple candles burning. It's just so.....oh you know.....Christmasey. It just puts a smile on my face to hear Linus recite his Christmas story for the 100th time. Or to laugh over and over as Ralphy gets told "You'll shoot your eye out!" No matter how many times I play my "Holiday Classics" CD, I never tire of the melodies. Ahhh....there is just something about it all.

The day after Thanksgiving is the day we decorate the house. Or should I say "I" decorate the house. My husband drags his big ol' ladder in and struggles to get it placed just right under the attic door. We have one of those funky ceiling doors that you tug on a rope and the door drops open, and behold......boxes and boxes and boxes.....did I tell you there were BOXES? I must say, I have been collecting Christmas decoration from around the world for years now. Well, maybe not around the world exactly, but from Dollar stores that are out of my area at least. Snowmen too numerous to count. But all so cute that I can't part with any of them. Big ones, small ones, some that are on pillows, some of them on throw blankets. Towels, plates, coffee cups. It's like Frosty himself has brought his entire family to reside at my house for the duration of the winter.
The entire weekend is spent with Christmas music playing and me "ho-ho-ho-ing" merrily along.

I remember in California, the weather never really got very cold, so the first few winters here in Texas were a shock to me. As a matter of fact, the first real cold snap is still a shock to me. Last week I was contemplating crop pants, and this week I am looking to find the wool socks and warm jammies. The aroma of a big pot of chili cooking brings my guys to the table. After all, we have all worked hard to get the house looking wonderful. The outside lights are finished and the tree is ready for it's final addition of the candy canes. All is well in my holiday world.

That is until the dreaded winter clothing plastic tubs are placed within my sight. I am up to 4 of them now. Oh, trust me, it is not because I have so many cute holiday type sweaters. No, no, nooooo. It's because I have saved the different SIZES of those adorable, sparkly, I know-I-will- eventually-be-able-to-wear-this-again-sweaters !!!! It's like a sickness I tell you. I haven't been a size 4 since I don't know when, but this little voice in my head says "You never know.....wouldn't it just be a shame if you got rid of this oh so cute little sweater and next year you lost more weight than would be humanly possible to do and it mysteriously would have fit you"? Can I get an amen here????? I can't imagine that I am the only woman in the world who saves the improbable in hopes of accomplishing the near impossible. And then, to make myself feel even worse?????? I try them all on !!!! Oh the humility of it all. Why in the world I venture to think that a year in a plastic tub is going to somehow change the dimensions of those sweaters and pants is absolutely beyond me. But each year it's the same thing. Year after year after year. And then, exhausted, I lovingly fold them all up and place them gently back in their respective tubs to wait until the first chill the next year. Family traditions are so hard to break.

They're Baaaaaaack !!!

Oh my gosh. I can't believe it. The most wonderful thing has happened. All of you young mothers out there, take heart. Your days of fussin' and fightin' with your children in the morning to get them dressed for school are over. Do you hear me? Jump for joy, because I saw the commercial. Garranimals are back.

In the early 70's (oh my goodness.....some of you were just babes yourselves), the most wonderful idea was born in the clothing department. They were called Garranimals. Does anyone remember these life savers? Mornings no longer held the dreaded "this doesn't match". Garranimals were MADE to match. And they were such fun to match up. Each animal was color coordinated for easy matching. Monkeys went with monkeys, giraffes with giraffes. The animal kingdom reigned supreme in our house. It was easy. It was fun. And face it....it was simple. No guess work. Look at the little picture on the tag on the collar of the shirt and then go to the closet and find the pair of pants that had the same animal. Anyone could dress their children for success. Ingenious I tell you.

I have never been one to mix and match my colors, or fabrics. Black shirt? Simple....black pants. Red pants? Easy. A matching red blouse. If I was really feeling bold the red blouse might have a different accent color in it. But let's not get crazy. Green with green, blue with blue. You get the idea right? It was simple really. A recipe for success. Well it was until recently.

As anyone who knows me well can attest, I love the color purple. My bowling ball and towel are purple. I have lots of shades of purple eyeshadow and scrunchies for my hair. Purple is for royalty. Purple is peaceful. Purple is the color that my Wii Mii wears. Except when she is working out.

Whose idea was it to put her in white. Have you seen what happens to us when wii wear white? I try not to ever outdo her with my mad wardrobe skills so I too gotten a white workout outfit. I would put it on in the morning to do my yoga routine with her. I boldly wore it while performing my advanced step with her. I wore it proudly. Until I actually saw myself in the mirror. Something was wrong. I did not look cute like shii did. White on white does not necessarily make cute on cute. I looked like a very bad version of a Pillsbury Dough boy. What was shii thinking? Shii should have told my Mii that Wii didn't look our best. It should have come from her BEFORE I got a full view of myself in the bedroom mirror. The gasp that escaped from me could be heard blocks away. The look of a wet marshmallow was not what I was going for.

So.......I realize that the Garranimal look might not be for everyone. Oh your young mothers should still do yourself a favor and stock up on them. Save your stress for the things that really matter in life. Bill collectors and telemarketers that call just when you get those precious babies down for a much needed nap. For me? I am going to put on my blue jammie bottoms with my blue jammie top. You know....the one with the cute little monkeys on it.

Minding the P's and Q's

One of the nice things about residing in Texas, is that we actually experience seasonal weather changes. Being a native of California, this is quite a phenomenon. There is just something special about that first morning when I grab my cup of coffee and go outside and notice, with much awe and relief, that I am not dripping wet from the Texas heat. You gotta admit......we know heat. And I am not talking about a spicy Tex-Mex dish. I am talking about being able to fry an egg on the back porch by about 9 am throughout the summer. Good night Agnes it gets hot here.
But then.......around September, after all of those summer storms have made their way through our town, a blessed relief comes. We call it Fall. Cooler temps and bluer skies. Afternoon iced tea is slowly replaced with the occasional cup of coffee. Instead of the grill being fired up every night, we actually turn the oven on again and bake a roast or a meatloaf. After all, if it below 90 degrees Fall must be just a few weeks away.
Personally, I like the cold weather. I just can't get naked enough in the summer without offending the neighbors. I hate sweating. It's just so......oh I don't know......eeky. With the cooler weather I can cover things up that shouldn't really be visible anyway. It just makes good sense. I follow the rule "If you've got too much of it, for heavens sake cover it up".
The only problem I have had of late with the weather cooling off is pantyhose. Why oh why were these abominations created. To taunt me? To suffocate me? To totally humiliate me????
Last winter, I decided to wear a skirt to the office. Sooooooo, I got into the treasure drawer of undergarments and dug out a new pair of pantyhose. Now they seemed a smidge hard to get into but I attributed that to still being "damp" from my shower. This particular day I was up and down up and down multiple times. In the early afternoon I noticed that the back of my legs were tired and achy. I convinced myself it was because I had been up and down so much and I was just getting tired. Then I noticed that my legs were almost feeling numb. I must admit I got concerned. I kind of stretched a bit and sat up a bit straighter to relieve the pressure I was feeling and continued working. Finally I couldn't stand the pain anymore and stood up and started to rub the top of my legs. It was then I discovered this huge lump on my rump. What the heck. I made my way to the ladies room and discovered (with much embarrassed laughter) that my pantyhose had decided that they would roll down and they were cutting off my circulation!!!! I was stunned. Shocked. By gosh I was taking those pantyhose back because obviously they were flawed.
Just exactly what DO those letters stand for on the inside of the pantyhose? I am a "P" I tell you. A "P". Why in the world would a company that I have faithfully bought pantyhose from for all of these years suddenly change the size dimensions without telling me. Is this some kind of a cruel joke? What? What did you say? A"P" is only for women of smaller stature? As in height only? I am a "Q"????? Are you serious? The "Q" pantyhose were made with women like me in mind? The letter "Q" comes after the letter "P" for a reason? I should have been warned. Nothing like this should just be sprung on a person. I needed time to prepare. A "Q" huh.
My Wii Mii and I decided after that incident to try to get back to being a "P". Oh Wii know it will take some time and dedication. Hey, that "Q" didn't happen overnight. But, as a team, Wii will change things. But for now? I am going to be the best "P" I can, inside the body of a "Q".

C for Mii

Coughs and colds. Sniffles and sneezes. It happens every year at this time in towns across the world. Seasonal allergies and simple colds. Feed a cold starve a fever. Extra doses of vitamin C. Sometimes I feel like I should buy stock in Kleenex. Why has there never been a true remedy for these simple germs?





While it is true that most of us cowboy up and suffer through these seemingly endless days of hacking and coughing, there are those who actual heed the advise of mothers long ago who declared "stay home and stay in bed"! Why do we attempt to tough it out and go about our days in misery. Usually, I must point out, sharing not only the misery, but the ill-laden germs with others. Do we secretly wish those around us to feel as crummy as we do? And for heavens sake. Why does everyone in the office stop by MY desk with a drippy nose to get a tissue. What????? I am the only one in the entire office that buys these handy sneeze catchers?





Think about it. If everyone would stay home when they were sick, then the rest of us could muddle through and just get the job done. But NO. In you come to work, dragging your woebegone chin on the floor looking to tell anyone that will listen how crummy you feel. The whole time that you are talking, you are spewing vile germs into my workspace. Doncha care about me at all?





I have decided that you won't win. No, no, no. I am going to fight back. Germs and flu bugs be gone. What better way to feel good than to take some extra vitamin C and exercise more. My Wii Mii agrees. We can fight this and win Shii said. It just takes a little common sense and that, Shii has plenty of. Actually, I think it has helped. I haven't coughed or sneezed this whole season. And Shii no longer says the dreaded word "obese" to my Mii anymore. How great is that. Every time I see her she has a smile on her face and a healthy glow to her skin.





I am not afraid to go out in public. Those bad germs won't get ahold of Mii. I am lookin' good and feelin' good. Yes sir. We are on the move. A thinner, more healthy Mii now occupies that office space. As a matter of fact, Wii may even go to the State Fair this year. I've got nothing to fear being in a crowd. Besides, I hear that the new food offerings go hand in hand with the season. We deep fry everything. This year it's butter. Who new that was even possible. Well, never fear. If you are leery abut being out where there are lots of sick folks breathing their germs all over you, you don't have to fear the State Fair.

This year's newest addition is Deep Fried Hand Sanitizer

Who knew?????

Texas Tried and True

I have noticed that people are flocking to Texas. Could it be the fabulous weather? Could it be the hill-less landscape? Could it be the big hair? Nah!!!! What about all the bling we wear? Or those snake skinned boots the cowboys wear? Or that down home country music that plays in all of the local honky tonks. Nope. It is none of these. I have been here now for 16 years and after doing much research I have found the answer to why people move here and why people stay here. It's the deep fried food !!!!

Each year at the Texas State Fair there is a contest to see who will come up with the best and most creative culinary fare. People from far and wide come and stroll around the fair grounds sampling all of the goodies that these fine folks come up with. Thousands of people walking around in a Homer Simpson daze as they sample the different treats. I have never seen so many happy contented people in one area. Texans love their food and by gosh they love it done right. And that means "deep fried". Oh yeah!!!

Back in California, we would go to Disneyland and the treat of the day would be a funnel cake. Can't you just smell it as you read this? After it was fried just right and placed on a paper plate, they would sprinkle, no pour, the powdered sugar all over it. We would take it and sit down on one of the benches and pull it apart and eat it while it was still so warm it almost burned your mouth. It had just the right amount of crunch to it, yet the grease made it moist. Your fingers would be covered in this ooey gooey sugary mess. Those were the good old days.

I really thought that no one would be able to top that. There couldn't possibly be anything better on a cool autumn night that the delectable funnel cake. But I was a foreigner in the land of deep frier's. I had no earthly idea how many "things" could be deep fried to make them on the cutting edge of the cuisine. I am in Texas now, and it became my quest to seek all that this beautiful state had to offer. I traveled through the cities and tasted the foods that Texas so love. Fried catfish, Chicken Fried Steak. They even have Chicken Fried Chicken for those opposed to red meat. Aren't we thoughtful. I even had to join O. A. after we had been here for a few months. I am sure that you know someone who is a member as well? Okra Eaters Anonymous. I had never even had that in California. I was so hooked on it. Every restaurant we went to had to be a buffet so that I could get fried okra. It took months of therapy to finally kick the habit.

A couple years ago, we went to the State Fair with some friends. NEVER go anywhere with friends who can eat like there is no tomorrow. It is sooooo bad for your waistline. We visited every vendor to investigate what their magical deep friers were putting out. The choices were unbelievable. Deep fried Twinkies (come on now), deep fried cookie dough (saints be praised) and the winner of the prize..........deep fried peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Good night Agnes. They had me. It didn't even matter what kind of jelly they were using. A PB&J dipped in a sweet pancake batter and then gingerly dropped into the scalding hot grease and fried to a delicate yet crispy crunch?????? Oh Puh leese. What is there not to love about this state? If you are looking for a warm place to live, where the countryside is nice and level and the music makes you want to tap you toes.......have I got a town for you. But leave your Wii Mii at home.

Polly Pockets

In the early 1980's the cutest little doll collection was introduced. It was called "Polly Pockets". It was the sweetest idea. A little bitty doll that you could carry around in your pocket. It fit so nice you hardly knew it was there. Huh. When did they enlarge the doll?

As a mother, it seems like I have always carried things in my pockets for my children. You know what I'm talking about. Crayons, bubble gum, marbles. The normal stuff kids desperately NEED to save. And as a mother, you are entrusted to hold them, until such time as the kids remember them or they go to bed whichever comes first. At the end of the day, it always amazed me to look at the collection that was there. When we first started the cleaning service I would stick all kinds of stuff i my pockets so that I wouldn't vacuum them up. Paper clips, those little twist ties from the bread loaves. Stuff. I always had stuff in my pockets.

It seems recently that my pockets don't carry things as comfortably as they used to. I am sure that if I did a little research I would discover that it was some woman hating men sitting around sewing machines in a factory somewhere making the pockets smaller. I mean, come on. It surely wasn't a woman's idea to do the tiny top part of the pocket in the same material as the pants only to have this HUGE wedge of bright white cloth sticking out of it once you get the pants on. Have you seen a side view of that????? It's a conspiracy I tell you.

A few weeks ago I absentmindedly dropped some change into my pocket. It became uncomfortable, but die hard that I am, I didn't reach in there and take it out. No, no ,no I just proceeded on with my day. As I was getting changed for bed that evening I noticed the most peculiar thing. George Washington's face was embedded onto my leg. A little ink and I could have had a tattoo. Good night Agnes. When did my pockets get this small?????

My Wii Mii and I are now doing pocket duty. We have determined that we will work a little harder to make my pockets a little easier to work with. Wii now are learning to Wii Box. Wii enjoy it and it gives our pocket area a good workout. I am still not sure if this is some kind of a wardrobe conspiracy, but for right now Wii will work with what Wii've got.

The Thrill of Victory

I come from a competitive family. We don't just play a game, we play to win. Don't play spoons with us.....we'll take your hand off. Once when my parents were here visiting for the weekend we decided to play spades. My son Jaymes trumped my dads trick much to my dad's chagrin. They were on the same team you see so it wasn't necessary. But my son was focused on his own win so taking the trick just seemed natural.

I feel the same way when I Wii. The "New Record" is what I live for. You even get your little Wii Mii picture beside the score to record it for all time. Row after row of little Wii Mii's smiling at my great accomplishment. Ah yes. The winner in me arises.

I am a routine orientated person so I pretty much begin my day the same way every day. Make the coffee, drink the coffee, read the paper. You know. Easy living. The first morning that I got up and realized that I had added an exercise routine to my wonderful "alone" time was a big deal. Remember, it was me that wanted the Wii in the first place but did I really want to do something with it? Reluctantly, I turned on the system and that wonderful captivating music that is so Wii started to play and my competitive self took over.

I started with ski jumping. Have you tried that one? You are precariously balanced on the top of a skii slope waiting....waiting......waiting until just the right time and then "Whoosh" down you go. Squatting into the downhill slope until at the last second you straighten your knees and boost yourself to a standing leaning position for a smooth landing. Just like on the Winter Olympics right. Wrong, wrong wrong. It took me forever to learn how to lean just right and straightened up at just the exact precise moment so that I didn't end up at the bottom of the ramp in the biggest snowball I had ever seen. Try again. Cute little Wii Mii poised on the downhill bar.....wait for it, wait for it and GO!!! Squat, squat squat.......and.........explode upward and balance.....balance......and snowball at the bottom again. "At least your Wii Mii looks really cute in her ski outfit" my husband reminds me me from the couch. I will conquer this I vow.

Each day, my routine was the same. Make coffee, drink coffee, read paper and Wii. It wasn't so much like exercise because I really was enjoying it. Yet, at the same time, my competitive juices were flowing. I could, no I would get the hang of this thing. I am woman, hear me roar I thought the first time shii actually landed on her skis upright. The crowd cheers for you and you wave back with a smile on your Wii face. And then the score is forever logged in. Oh yeah!!!! High score. And the music plays. And the Wii time bank gets it's coins. Wii life is good. It is very good.

H2O Oh Oh

Water. A precious commodity. The pitter patter of raindrops on a metal rooftop. The slushing sound of a sprinkler in the late afternoon. The gentle whisper of the waves touching the shoreline. Yes indeed. There is nothing quite like water. That is unless you have to force yourself to drink it like I do. I know that when God created everything He looked around and said "This is good". But I have often asked myself, exactly who on His angelic staff bothered to actually taste this stuff before declaring it "good"? Didn't He have a tasting committee?

My Wii Mii prods me on a daily basis to remember the importance of drinking water while we Wii. Oh man. I hate the stuff. Why does it have to taste.....you know.....so much like water????? My good friend Dawn drinks water likes she actually enjoys the stuff. Who is she trying to kid here? She brings a bottle of water everywhere she goes. So does my Mom. If we go on even the quickest of errands she will ask in most pleasant of "Mom" type voices "would you like a bottle of water to take with you Nansii?" I think to myself "Why....they don't have Dr. Pepper where we're going"? Dr. Pepper has to be good for you. It's my from a fruit right?

After a 30 minute workout, the bells and whistles go off within the Wii system and the time bank dances around for joy at your accomplishment. Mine is now gold. What color is yours? Anyway, as the confetti fades from view this little message appears about it being a good time to "take a break and drink some water". I almost throw myself down on the floor begging for mercy. Wasn't the workout enough I scream? Now I have to drink water too. Good night Agnes. Will the abuse never end? But........I saunter to the kitchen and pour myself a tall glass of water, hold my nose and choke it down.

As time as gone by, I have slowly comes to terms that my Wii Mii really wants the best for me. My friends (and you know who you are) have gently placed their arms about my shoulders and sang the praises of the virtues of water. Everything that it does for you. "Your skin will look younger". Ok....I like that. "It will help flush out your system". Oh, that candy bar will be gone? "It has absolutely, positively NO calories". Now that's what I'm talking about!!! Bring it on I say. Crack those ice cubes trays. Fill up that 16 ounce glass to the top. I have even learned a trick. If you squeeze a lemon in it and a package of Splenda you will think that you're having lemonade. Mind over matter baby.

A Little "White" (and black) Lie

Coming from a Catholic household I know the importance of differentiating between a white lie and the kind that are going to really warrant an hour long penance. I have always prided myself in a minimum of penance time. But every so often, a situation arises and I find I just can't control myself or the outcome. This was such a situation.

Oreo cookies. Who among us doesn't just love them. I mean come on now. Be honest. Do you eat them whole or are you a closet separatist? I carefully pull them apart and eat all of the naked ones first saving and savoring the delectable "middles" for last. Double stuff is the best. My hands start to sweat just thinking about them. On occasion I enjoy them with a nice cold glass of milk. Other times, my thought is that the milk will just take up more Oreo room.

I also enjoy reading a good novel. Murder mysteries are my favorites. Propped up in bed, leaning back against my fluffy pillows. What could be better than that? Why not have some cookies while I read I thought. So I quietly went out to the kitchen and ever so slowly (so the bag wouldn't crinkle and make a bunch of noise) removed a handful of Oreos and proceeded to quietly tip toe back to my room. Maybe this is the part that I should admit what part of the problem was. You see, I had mentioned, just mentioned mind you, to my husband (who NEVER forgets anything I tell him) that I was going to start "watching my waistline". I was going to eat better, exercise, walk the dog......you know all that stuff that you tell people to make yourself feel better. Anyway, I gingerly got back into bed with the paper towel (no crumbs in this bed, thank you very much) and got myself all set up to enjoy my book and my cookies. Carefully, ever so carefully, I twisted those cookies apart, separating the first eats with the last eats. I laid them all out in a row balanced on my tummy and then gently lifted the book and placed it right in front of the stack of cookies.

Now I know what you are thinking. You think that I was trying to be sneaky right? It wasn't exactly like that. I just really wanted some Oreo's and I didn't want my husband to feel pressured into reminding me that they probably weren't the best choice for a late night snack. See.....I was thinking of his feelings. Wow, I can tell that is one is going to cost me in penance. Anyway......there I laid, propped up, book hiding, I mean shielding, no, no, no, disguising the fact that I had a napkin full of cookies, quite enjoying myself.

About the 3rd naked Oreo, I glanced up to see my husband standing at the foot of the bed. I gave him a very nice closed mouth smile. He smiles back at me but then I notice that his line of vision has shifted to a different area. Kind of above my head and to the right of me. I mumble "what's wrong Honey?" and he says "I don't want to frighten you, but there is a lizard on the wall above the headboard". Yeah right I think. Lizard smizard. He must have looked at the dad gum cookie bag and knows I have cookies. About the same time as I was thinking this thought I turned my head ever so slightly and out of the reflection of my glasses I saw the outline of the biggest lizard I had ever seen. Surely this Iguana must have escaped from the Fort Worth Zoo. Faster that I have personally ever moved in my entire life, I flung the covers off of me and literally jumped out of bed and ran out of my room. Here is where the difficulty happens.

You see, in my urgent quest to beat feet and get the heck out of that Kamodo Dragons way, I forgot something very important. As I passed my husband like a speeding bullet, the cookies, ALL of those wonderfully perfectly separated "last eats" collided with my husband. I could hear him calling my name as the napkin gently floated down and landed at his feet. I silently went to get the vacuum. He remained where he was explaining to me what happens "when first we practice to deceive".

I have confessed this grievous sin to my Wii Mii. It was shortly after she groaned when I got on the Wii board to do my daily Body Test. Is it possible that she could even groan louder? I realized at that point that it was Mii and her against a world of Oreos gone bad on my hips. I have vowed to look at the shadow I cast and work to create a smaller one. My wonderful Wii Mii has promised to help me get to my goal.

Oh yeah. I almost forgot about the lizard. It was one of those tiny little gecko things, and I am sure I heard him snickering at me as I carried him out to the front flower planter.

The Inspiration of Wii to Mii

A few years ago my grandson Kodie received the Nintendo Wii for Christmas. I am not a big video game player at all. But I must confess, when my husband and I made our way upstairs to the game room and sat and watched him box I got really curious. It seemed like the character on the t.v screen was moving right along with him. If he punched with his left hand so did the character. Quite different than the Space Invader type games that I remembered. Then he showed us the baseball game and tennis. Then he brought out the big guns. Wii Bowling. Oh my gosh!!!! Talk about a kick in the pants. I was hooked. So hooked that we ended up bowling so long that we were actually sore the next day. We called it "Wii Butt".

This past Christmas, my husband and son surprised me with a Nintendo Wii. I couldn't believe it. We immediately set it up and designed our characters and started bowling. I gotta tell you. My little Wii Mii is so cute. She looks just like me. Green eye shadow and purple outfit. Shii even has glasses. My son Jaymes' Wii wears one of those silly stocking cap things. Then there is my goofy husband who dresses his Mii in dark shades for that "extra" cool in control look. We have even designed Wii Miis for our friends that come to visit and play with us. All 3 of us are Pro bowlers now. At least at home when Wii play.

In February I was surprised again with the Wii Fit system. Now I must admit, I was quite happy with my bowling Mii and wasn't quite sure about the idea of exercising with a t.v. Now if you know anything about the Wii, your character in the sports package is most likely going to look different from your Wii Mii in the Wii fit area. To put it quite plainly......my Wii Mii reflects the true body style of the Mii Me. Did you get that? Yes indeed it is true. This new Wii character has the audacity of actually having this little tubby body that very much resembles mine. What happened to that bowling babe????? Apparently when you type in the physical attributes that you possess the darn thing takes it seriously and makes the character in the "shape" of your real person. Drat the luck I say. But, I put a smile on my face and proceeded to sit back and prepare to laugh as Bryan and Jaymes built their Wii Mii. What the deuce???? Not an ounce of fat on either one of them. This might be a bit more difficult to bear than I had originally thought. It was OK if we were ALL going to look kinda pudgy, but just me????

That night we decided to do our first "Body Test" How many of you have the Wii? Isn't that the cutest little voice you have ever heard? It is so precious. Except during the body test. My immediate mistake was going first. I should NEVER have done that. I remember stepping on to the balance board and it actually made a groaning sound. Have any of you heard that? I mean, didn't you almost fall over? A groan???? It's a game for heaven's sake. The sound was almost personal. But before I could step off of the thing this cute little Elmo type voice says "That's Obese". I turned ever so slowly to get a look at my husband and son's faces. They were literally staring at the t.v. in disbelieve. "Did that thing just say what I thought it said" I demanded? And then the unthinkable funny happened. They both started to laugh. Not just ha ha laugh, but the deep down belly laugh that makes your sides hurt. Then I got to laughing. Pretty soon we were all just busting up. I declared that very night that I would make her eat those words. No little 3 year old twit in a t.v. set was going to call me obese.

Now even though that moment was uncomfortable, it did indeed make me look at myself. I was overweight and out of shape. but could this little scrap of a thing in a t.v really help me get back on track. Well, I decided then and there that Shii could help Mii and we have been working out together ever since. Well, not everyday. Old habits die hard ya know. But I will tell you honestly, it was that little voice so politely telling me that I was obese that gave me the incentive to keep trying and by the end of May I had lost 20 pounds. Then the doldrums set in and I got lazy. that is the only way to explain it. Pure and simple lazy. I had almost given up until my husband took me to the movies.

We went and saw Julie and Julia at the theater last weekend and the story of their story inspired me to finish what I had started. So I am back on my Wii Fit program. It really isn't that hard. It just takes a commitment and I really think I can do that. So I decided to blog about it in case their are others with a lost Wii Mii who need to be found and put back on the right Wii path. together we can do it. We can share stories and motivate each other to keep going or try new Wii moves. Or Wii recipes. Or just a friendly Wii chat. So join Mii on my journey won't you? It will be fun and helpful to me to post my ups and downs, improvements and well you get the idea. I know that I have lots of friends out there that also work out with their Wii . Join me when you can OK? A little Wii will make a better Mii.