First Time Flyer

Last week I went on my first official business trip for the casino. It took me to San Diego for five days, to the National Indian Gaming Association (NIGA) Trade Show and Convention. I had a wonderful time. It was just the right combination of work and play. I was there with our General Manager, her Executive Assistant, the HR Director, and the Cage Manager. We stayed at the luxurious Omni Hotel, right across the way from the Convention Center, bordering the historic Gas Lamp District and with a view of the harbor and the San Diego Padres stadium.

I picked up a few pointers on Casino Marketing in general and the use of Social Media in particular, and had a chance to get to know my co-workers better over a cocktail or two. Of course, the lovely San Diego weather and the abundance of restaurants and bars with an outside patio helped tremendously in that respect. Not to mention the San Diego Harbor cruise we took on Wednesday afternoon, compliments of a company that offers all inclusive cruises for high rollers.

I almost didn't make it, though. We flew out of Green Bay's Austin Straubel International Airport. Quite the mouthful but in reality a small airport with friendly people. Fortunately for me. You see, my husband had surprised me the day before my departure with a new bag for toiletries, the roll-up kind ideal for travel. Not only did he surprise me with the bag, he had also filled it with assorted travel size necessities, including a brand new camera!

Now I know all about the rule stating anything liquid cannot exceed three ounces and must be presented in a clear plastic bag. Nothing in my bag was over three ounces, I had made sure of that, and the inside of my bag was made of clear plastic. I assumed taking my toiletries bag out of my carry-on and opening it up would be enough. It wasn't. I had forgotten one thing: the clear plastic bag cannot be larger than one quart and mine definitely was. I was bringing on far too many containers with liquids.

While the TSA officials were debating what, if anything, they were going to make me toss, I walked through the metal detector and set it off because I had forgotten to take off my belt. After a second, silent run, I was cordially invited to step aside for a manual pat down. As I was standing there with my arms stretched out, palms facing up, another TSA official held up my purse, asking to whom it belonged. She had to scan it again. "Sure," I replied, "no problem." The second scan still did not satisfy her and she informed me a search of my purse was necessary. Did I have anything sharp in there? "No," I answered her in earnest. Only to see her walk off moments later with my brand new pruning sheers in her hand. Oops...

While my co-workers were laughing their heads off, I explained to the TSA what on earth I was doing with gardening tools in my purse (gardening, what else?), and I was allowed to proceed to the gate. Without my shiny pruning sheers but with all of my toiletries to compensate for my loss.

You'd think I had never traveled on an airplane before...

Cake For Breakfast

When I came home from my business trip in the wee hours of this morning I tiptoed upstairs to wish my sleeping baby a Happy Birthday. Lola did not wake up when I softly whispered "I love you" in her ear. When she sleeps she is still my baby. But when she's awake, not anymore. She's three. A big girl.

This morning at 7:00 AM, I was awakened by my now three year old, proudly proclaiming "It's MY birthday." Still half asleep, I stumbled out of bed to decorate the kitchen and her chair, and do some last minute gift wrapping. And then we had cake. For breakfast!

Three years ago today I met this creature for the first time, after nurturing her in my womb for nine months. It's hard to imagine how tiny she was, how helpless. Today Lola stands three feet something tall, and grows more independent by the minute. She is definitely not a baby anymore.

She's a biker chick...

Happy Birthday, Lola! I love you. A little bit more every day.

Felices Pascuas

The Easter Bunny, though she insists it was Santa, brought Lola a little basket filled with treats and treasures this lovely Easter morning. Stickers, beads, play money, little wooden eggs and cows, and chocolates! After generously sharing a couple of hundred dollars and some gold coins - but not the chocolate - with her parents and the cat, she counted what was left.

"... Quatro, cinco...," I heard her softly muttering. I was impressed and amused. Thank you, Dora. I told Lola it was high time she learned how to count in Dutch and showed her how.

"Een, twee, drie, vier..."

"Quatro, cinco," she chimed in.

My child is becoming bilingual alright, just not the language I had in mind. Though much more practical, I'm sure.

Happy Easter! Vrolijk Pasen! And Felices Pascuas, too!

Judy's Garden

Dear Judy,

For weeks I have been looking at your flowerbeds out front, itching to get out and do some spring cleaning in there. But I restrained myself, because I know the dead leaves and other debris covering the dirt provide a protective layer against the elements and I was still waiting on that blizzard I was sure to get now that I live in northern Wisconsin. No such luck. Instead the month of March was the first March since 1871 without a single flake of snow.

The last of the snow is gone now. The lake is free of ice. A couple of weeks ago the load limits for the roads went into effect, protecting them during the spring thaw. Due to the drought, all burning permits have been revoked until further notice. And for the third consecutive day, it was sunny out with temperatures in the mid seventies. In addition to numerous robins, I have encountered too many mosquitoes already, bumped into a bumble bee, and spotted the first butterfly. Upon inspecting your garden earlier this week, I noticed I was not the only one itching to get out.

So instead of scrubbing toilets and cleaning grubby fingerprints off your windows, I put on some shorts and a tank top yesterday, grabbed my pruning sheers and a hand fork, and went to town. Miss Lola assisted in hauling off the yard waste. The both of us had a wonderful time. First we cleaned up the large flowerbed in the curve of the driveway. Next we took on the long flowerbed by the side of the house leading to the garage. Then we tackled the hosta beds out front and to the side of the house.

I was delighted to be gardening again. I didn't realize how much I had missed it. To dig my hands in the dirt, pull out the weeds, free the hyacinths and the tulips (or Lily of the Valleys - not sure what they are) that had grown three inches in three days. There's more to be done still. The flowerbeds in the backyard, and the fenced garden up by the road. You'll have to tell me what's in there. What are annuals that I can remove, and what are perennials that need to stay and receive some tender loving care.

It rained last night and will continue to rain over the next couple of days. Perfect timing! And since I will be in sunny southern California for the week, I won't get wet myself. Like I said, perfect timing. To top it off, I discovered the daffodils you planted. I have not been able to find any in the stores to fill my L E N T E vases with. And now I don't have to. I'll just wait until I can cut them from the garden. Thank you.

Happy Easter! Love,

Closed For The Season

Ice fishing shacks at Lake Metonga

Like Riding A Bicycle

It was lovely weather this evening and we decided to go for a bicycle ride around the lake after dinner. It has been maybe five years since I have ridden a bike. They say once you learn, you never forget. It's true. I still know how to get around on a bike. I have not forgotten.

Nor have I forgotten what it is like to walk home with a flat tire. I made it all the way to the boat landing, about 0.75 miles up the road, when my tire went flat. I walked the same 0.75 miles back home with my bike at my side.

But my father taught me well. Tomorrow afternoon, when I come home from work, I will prove I have not forgotten how to fix a flat tire.

As soon as I find my bicycle repair kit, that is. Because I may have forgotten where I put that.

Toddler Talk

She will be three in two weeks. Her language skills are improving every day. Sometimes there are so many words exploding in her head, it makes her stutter. We patiently wait for the words to come out. And what comes out can be pretty funny...

To Ryan as he is leaving for school:
"Bye papa! Don’t pee in your pants, don’t poop in your pants. I love you!"

Whilst reading the adventures of Dora the Explorer and being corrected on the use of he versus she:
“He is not she, he is Dora!”

“Lola, I have had enough. Can you please be a normal, good girl?”
“No. I want to be Lola.”

On ignoring the ‘No Running in the House’ rule:
“But mom, I am not running. I am pretending to run.”

Asking to look at the pictures and movies on my digital camera:
“I want to look at Lola, The Movie!”

The girl likes to dance:
“I need some music.” (And by music she means The Black Eyed Peas.)

When I try to dislodge myself from her grip after kissing her good night:
"You can't go anywhere. I am keeping you." Followed by her 'evil' laugh "Ha, ha, ha, ha..."

Waiting For Daffodils

For a while now I have wanted to play around with etching glass. I think it's a wonderful way to personalize cookie jars, storage containers, and vases. Last week I finally did it. I actually managed to start and finish a project. I adorned little 7 oz. beer bottles with L E N T E, the Dutch word for spring. The "How To" can be found on my other blog, Dutch Girl Originals, my show case for all things crafty.

I am very happy with the result, if I do say so myself. Now all I need is daffodils, my ultimate spring flower. Until I find some, fake Dollar Tree daisies will have to do.

Of course now I want a set of vases for every season. There's only eight bottles to a case, though. We're just going to have to drink for the cause...

Spring Fever

I knew it! For the past couple of weeks I have been telling myself not to give into the feelings of Spring Fever that have started to surface. "Don't get swept away by this lovely spring weather we're having," I told myself, "this is Northern Wisconsin where it snows in April, sometimes even in May. Yes, it is 60F degrees (15C) outside and sunny but that does not mean a thing."

But it was stronger than I was. When the cold sunny days turned to warm sunny days and the snow started to melt, I decided to help it along by cleaning off the back deck so we could sit outside and bask in the sun. Much nicer than sitting in the driveway. A completely pointless effort it turned out to be, because there was so much snow melting from the roof, it was like sitting under a waterfall.

With daylight savings time taking effect last Sunday, there is even more sunshine to be had. Almost all of the snow is gone. The grass is showing, the bears are up, and I have heard the odd robin has been sighted. My husband is already sporting a suntan and we have been enjoying cocktails in the backyard together after work. I am so over winter. As far as I am concerned it can go, take the snow with it, and not come back until December.

But what does our forecast predict? You guessed it. Snow! And naturally on my day off. Life is so unfair sometimes. Perhaps I can reschedule?

Danger Talk

Like every parent, I dread the day I have to tell my daughter the world is not as nice a place as she thinks it is. That there are people out there that hurt other people. On purpose. I don't think the time has come yet, though, she is not yet three. Let her be blissfully unaware for a little while longer. And in the meantime we'll keep a close eye on her.

However, today I did have a little talk with her. Early this morning, I spotted a black bear, leisurely strolling along the shoreline of Lake Lucerne. Or Mud Bay, as we have come to call it. I was absolutely thrilled by the sighting. I ran over to the bedroom to wake Ryan up in true City Girl Sees Wildlife fashion. Ryan being a veteran bear-spotter, wasn't nearly as excited as I was.

Lola and I had been feeding the eagles leftover meat yesterday, thinking the bears were still hibernating, though not for much longer. The unseasonably warm weather woke them up early it seems. This morning the meat was gone. I doubt the bears ate it, judging by the prints in the snow where the meat used to be. I am certain the eagles didn't, though. Oh well. As long as some critter enjoyed it.

While we were on our way to daycare, I told Lola I had to talk to her about the bears. That even though they look really cute and cuddly, they are in fact very dangerous. Bears are not like baby deer. And highly unlikely as it may be, if she should see a bear, there was no walking over and saying "Hi". Lola repeated everything I said and then told me she didn't like bears anymore. Since she loves all animals, with the exception of elephants and crocodiles, that was not what I was going for. But for now, I'll take it.

Find Your Way

May you always find your way, wherever it leads you. And then find your way back home again. That is not where we live, it is where I am.

Happy Birthday, Ryan!



p.s. I got him a GPS...

Blogging Beauty

There are several perks to blogging, I have learned over the past fourteen months. It's good for my soul, for one. Writing about my experiences, both good and bad, is liberating. It enables me to let go of things. Once I have written them up, they no longer weigh me down.

It's also a wonderful way to keep far away family and friends in the loop. Relating little tidbits of my life makes me seem less far away, I hope. Posting pictures of Lola as she grows up and telling funny stories is a way for me to involve my family and friends in Holland when they cannot be a part of our daily lives.

And then, of course, there are the comments visitors to Northwoods Adventures leave. I get so excited when people leave me a comment. I try to be a good little blogger and do the same for other bloggers. We all like to know that people read, and appreciate, what we have to say.

Last, but most certainly not least, there are the give-a-ways. Every now and then I enter a give-a-way hosted by a blogger. Last week for instance, I entered Cheri's at Its So Very Cheri. She hosts awesome give-a-ways. And what do you know? I won! This weekend I received my package in the mail. It was a handmade facial mask, a Dead Sea mud pack, from Sweet Creek Herbs. Absolutely delicious. My skin hasn't been this smooth in a while. Just what it needed.

Thank you Cheri and Kathleen, you made my day!

I Can Take A Hint

Take That, Tiger!

Tiger Woods's public apology really has people talking around these parts. Some think he's sincere, some don't. They're very passionate about the subject. Personally, I don't care. It is none of my business. It is nobody's business in fact, but Tiger's and his wife. They should be left alone to work out their issues. Or not. It's their choice, and I don't need to hear or read about it.

But this morning, when I checked my email and found the CNN AM Fix in my inbox, I noticed the Dutch have beaten out Tiger Woods for the Top Story. Ha! Just barely, though, and only because the US has an interest in the matter. Unlike Tiger, the Dutch cabinet has decided not to work out its issues. I wonder if the citizens of Holland get a public apology, too?

High Hopes

Making Do

I had a little break down this weekend. It came over me quite unexpectedly while I was reorganizing our bedroom. The piles of clothes and miscellaneous clutter had been getting to me and I decided they needed to go. Right now. As I was putting stuff away, folding clothes, and doing laundry, I looked around and realized I wasn't happy with the result. It was nicely organized but it still looked like crap. I do not like the plastic stackable bins that hold my clothes, I do not like the shelf Ryan brought in from the garage for me, and I hate the fact that I do not have a place to store my bead and craft supplies. One where I can easily access them and Lola cannot get into them without supervision.

I laid down on our bed and took in the room. I am usually good at making the most of small spaces but this time it wasn't working for me. Because this is not my house. I can't take a hammer and nails and hang up a shelf, high enough to thwart a toddler. I cannot bring in my own furniture because there is no room for it. As I was lying there, not having a place of my own weighed heavily on me. It's not just this house, it's every house I have lived in since I moved to the US.

When we moved into Snug Harbor, our 700 square feet quaint cottage was filled to the brim. Ryan's things mostly, and what little I had brought with me from Holland. It was far too small to accommodate all our stuff. The furniture was too big. Nothing matched. It felt cramped. We fixed the house up on the outside, but the inside never received the love it needed. Before we were able to tackle that project, we were forced to move again, and found ourselves living in even smaller quarters. And surrounded by bins, dozens of bins, stacked to the ceiling.

I am so sick of not having a nice, comfortable house of my own. One that Ryan and I shape together. Where the furniture matches, where everything has its own place. Where Lola can play. Where I can craft. Where Ryan can make music. Where we can live. I want it more than anything. It breaks my heart that it seems further away than ever.

Please don't get me wrong. I truly appreciate my parents-in-law taking us in. They have a beautiful house, on the lake, surrounded by nature. I love having a fully functioning kitchen at my disposal, not one but three bathrooms, a hot tub, a fireplace operated by remote control, a dishwasher, and a washing machine. For homeless people, we are pretty well off. But it's not ours. Once again we are making do. We have been making do for so long.

It will be a while longer before we can make our dreams of having a home of our own a reality. And we'll make that work. We are fine, really. It just gets to me every now and then. So I throw myself a little pity party, my husband consoles me, and we get back on track. We make do. We're getting pretty good at it.

All You Need Is Love

Happy Valentine's Day!

Dutch Word Of The Day

Not many people at the casino realize I am Dutch. My colleagues all want to know how to pronounce my name, and where it comes from, but they mostly think I am an American with Dutch ancestors. Recently one my staff returned from maternity leave. During one of our meetings, my nationality came up and she was genuinely surprised to learn I am the resident alien, Dutch born and raised. I was asked to prove it on the spot by speaking to her in Dutch. She was very impressed by my skills and expressed the desire to learn Dutch. And just like that, the idea of the Dutch Word of the Day was born.

Every day when I come in, I write a Dutch word on the dry erase board with the translation and instructions on pronunciation beneath it. We have a lot of fun with it, especially when I throw in some g’s, forcing them to "hock a loogie" as someone so eloquently put it. Today’s word is gok automaat (slot machine) in honor of the big slot tournament promotion we are currently running on Saturdays. Next week, I am teaching them the days of the week.

Our little inside joke has started to take on a life of its own, however. Throughout the casino people are talking about the Dutch Word of the Day. They come to our office to see what the day's word is, they discuss it in the break rooms, and for the first time I am asked questions about windmills, tulips, and wooden shoes.

Now, if I could only get them to stop confusing Dutch with Danish. A Danish is something you eat. Easy, no?

Girls Night In

Lola seems to have caught a case of the Terrible Twos lately. Trying times. Everything is a struggle; going potty, getting dressed, going to bed. Especially going to bed. The sweet little girl that climbed cheerfully up the ladder every night at bedtime, was content with reading a book and snuggling with mommy is gone. She climbs out of bed at least half a dozen times, she cries (sometimes screams) for a good thirty minutes most nights, and has become a master at stalling.

She goes exploring every day and empties out every cabinet or drawer she can get into. She refuses to sit in a shopping cart but insists on walking (read: running - toddlers don't walk), and yesterday she managed to sit down and poop on the floor. Trying times indeed. The only thing still going well is brushing her teeth. The girl loves to brush.

But tonight was different. Ryan was at school and it was just the two of us. We watched a little Scooby Doo together and chatted about her day. When it was time to start dinner, she brought a little stool into the kitchen, offering her assistance. She stirred the bacon and rolled out the dough with a rolling pin. While I finished preparing the savory leak pie that was on the menu tonight, she played with the dough scraps, baking a pie of her own and whipping up a batch of cookies as well. Good times.


At bedtime she protested only a little. Once upstairs she insisted on reading me the story of Spot. Afterwards she invited me to spend the night with her and her 30,000 stuffed animals but didn't seem to mind when I respectfully declined. She then proceeded to lovingly arrange her babies around her, laid down and went to sleep. Good times, indeed.

I love watching Lola care for her babies. She is normally your fairly clumsy toddler that likes to roughhouse. But when it comes to her babies, she is incredibly gentle. One baby in particular is treated in the most delicate way, a tiny leopard-like creature with a long tail and a human face. It is a little Anne Geddes doll and Lola adores it. She cradles it in her arms, softly petting it. I melt every time she does that. (On a side note: am I the only one who wonders what Anne Geddes was thinking that one Halloween when she was carving pumpkins? "Hmmm..., instead of the usual candle, why don't I stuff a baby in there?")

Lola will turn three in April and that will be the end of the Terrible Twos, it says in the manual. But I have already been warned by folks in the know. Apparently there is also the Terrible Threes. The good times are going to get even better...

Big Girls Don't Cry

After being caught making a huge mess earlier today, Lola was put in a time out. She is usually very compliant about her punishment. But this time she took off the minute we turned our backs, inviting the following reprimand:

"Now sit down and stay there. And don't pout. Take your time out like a real woman."

And so she did.

Improv Skills

What to do when you find yourself in need of a band aid and there are none to be found?

Don't Panic, Ask Google

"What happened to my money?" Lola asked me as she walked into the kitchen tonight.

"I don't know," I answered her, "where did you put it?"

"In my mouth."

...

"Lola, please come here. Did you put money in your mouth? And did you swallow it?"

"Yes."

"Did you really do that, Lola? And is it now in your tummy?"

"It was in my mouth. And now it's gone." She opened her mouth as wide as she could to prove it.

Great. Now what? Should I panic? Bad idea. Then what? She seemed absolutely fine. No crying, no aches or pains. No drooling, no discoloration, nothing. No need to panic. Yet.

I told her to come with me to the living room where I grabbed my wallet and looked for a penny, a nickel, a dime, and a quarter. "Can you tell me which one you put in your mouth?"

She pointed to the quarter. Argh! "That one. No, that one," she added, pointing at the dime. Better, but I wasn't sure what to believe. And I still didn't know what to do. My CPR training did not cover this.

Being a twentyfirst century mother, I turned to Google. I typed in what to do when your child swallows a coin and hit return. It came back with 52,400 hits. I was relieved to find out I was not alone on this one. And after reading a few results I felt much better. The consensus seemed to be to wait for the coin to pass. And perhaps speed up the process with Fiber One bars. Not having any at hand, I gave her a handful of prunes.

To make sure I am not a horrible mother by not rushing her to the Emergency Room, I called her pediatrician in Washington since the doctor's office in Crandon was already closed. The nurse told me what signs to look for that warrant a trip to the hospital: high fever, vomiting, severe belly aches to name a few. So far she appears unaffected.

So now all we have to do is wait and very closely examine anything that comes out the other end. It's a good thing potty training has not yet been completed. Ryan will be thrilled. She is sleeping with me tonight, just so I can keep an eye on her.

And as if all this wasn't trying enough, while I was talking to the nurse, Lola got into the band aid supply and stuck them on her legs. All but one. I should use that remaining band aid and tape her mouth shut. Tempting, very tempting...

A Public Apology

Dear Fellow Northwoods Drivers,

I would like to take this opportunity to apologize to all of you for my driving. Not that my driving is bad, it's just that I'm slow. Driving in the snow is not my forte. Being a Wisconsin newbie, I have little experience with it. Add to that the minimal profile on my tires, and general fear of accidents, and you end up with the driving style of a little old lady. Like the winter weather, it will not last. I promise. In the meantime, please be patient with me as I am working on my ice truckin' skills. This morning, when the road was covered in ice and snow, I was doing at least 40 mph. At times I even made it up to 45 mph! That is a definite improvement over my first week on the road when my speedometer never made it past 35 mph.

I do, however, have a favor to ask of some of you. Please, please, pretty please, stop tailgating. There is plenty of room to go around me, so go ahead and use it. Riding my butt will NOT make me go faster. It will only result in my blood pressure and yours going up, and no-one is going to benefit from that. And if you feel that you must drive as close to me as you possibly can, at least be kind enough to lower your brights. Really, blinding me will not make me speed up either. It is as ineffective as it is dangerous, not to mention extremely annoying.

Thanks so much for your consideration. Safe travels!

Hanneke N.

P.s. I realize it must be confusing for you because my husband drives our car too, and his driving style varies greatly from mine. He is convinced the emergency brake is a bona fide winter tool for one. Sorry.

Blessed Or Cursed?

Ryan and I were deliberating the other day whether we were blessed or cursed. He thinks we’re cursed, I don’t. It’s not that I am in denial about our current hardships – as much as I would like to be – I just tend to look at things in a more positive way; the ol’ half full/half empty glass debate. I am convinced having a positive mindset will help me accomplish my goals. The Power of Positive Thinking works for me. At the very least, it brings me peace.

I believe we mostly brought our present trials and tribulations on ourselves by bad habits and a few questionable decisions. Add in some bad luck and a failing economy and before you know it, you’re living the American Nightmare. But I clearly see our many blessings and believe we are slowly working our way back up again. I realize it’s probably easier for me to say that; I leave the house every day to go to a fun, albeit increasingly demanding job. Ryan is stuck at home for the moment with no place to go, and no way to get there.

Our lack of transportation is what started this conversation. We are a one car family at the moment, and the Northwoods are a harsh place to be without a car. I had been using my father-in-law’s pick-up truck, leaving Ryan our car. About two weeks ago, the truck suddenly overheated. It’s been in the shop awaiting repair, but every couple of days they give us a call to tell us it’s not what they thought it was, it’s worse. First it was the water pump, and then it wasn’t. It was a broken bolt that could only be reached by removing just about everything under the hood. The latest is the engine needs rebuilding as a result of said bolt rattling around.

As if that isn’t bad enough, our own car needs new tires – suitable for Wisconsin winters – and new windshield wipers. And a new antenna, too. And the fuse for the back lights and parking lights keeps blowing for no apparent reason. An oil change probably wouldn’t hurt either. The muffler fell off a while back, making our otherwise inconspicuous Nissan sound like a rally car. Then the 'Check Engine' light came on. Finally on Thursday, the remainder of the exhaust started dragging over the pavement, forcing us to get the whole thing fixed right then and there. Bye bye to this week’s paycheck.

Yes, this is bad luck. Not to mention lousy timing. But that doesn’t mean we’re cursed. I refuse to believe the Powers That Be look down on us and say: "What? They have running water again? And plumbing? And they no longer have to run outside in the middle of the night to get wood? That’s not right. We need more suffering. Let’s take away their muffler."

It’s not bad Karma either. It’s bad maintenance. Due to lack of finances. Due to... I'm beginning to sound like a broken record. I do, however, wholeheartedly agree with Ryan about one thing. When will this end? While I do not view this as a curse, it is a far cry from a blessing. Enough already!

And just in case I'm wrong and we are cursed, does anyone know of a tried and true method for curse reversal?

Cute And Funny

"I'm cute," Lola informed me last night when we were getting ready for bed. She gave me her best fake smile; her mouth wide open, her teeth clenched, and a twinkle in her eye. Very much like this one. I couldn't help but laugh.

"I'm funny, too," she added.

How could I possibly argue with that?

Heeere's Johnny!

Image credit: www.imdb.com

We're alone. My parents-in-law left early yesterday morning for Arizona. For the next four months it is just the three of us up here in the isolated and snowy Northwoods. If Ryan starts building a maze in the backyard, Lola and I are out of here. (I am starting to wonder if I should be concerned about the two sledding runs he built?) I hid the axes and chainsaws just in case.

Happy 2010!

Happy New Year from the Northwoods! May 2010 be a happy, healthy, and prosperous year for all of us. I love the anticipation and excitement that comes with a new beginning.

For the second year in a row I did not have it together enough to send out Christmas cards. I had wonderful ideas for handmade cards but alas, my address book was in North Dakota when the time came.

I considered sending out New Year's cards instead, but who am I kidding? That is not going to happen either. If it did, I would imagine they'd look something like this...