I'm a bargain shopper. I always have been. I'm thrifty. I've been known to purchase complete outfits for less than $10. Yes, I said less than $10. When I was younger this was of the upmost importance as most of my money needed to be saved for going out with friends and drinking until dawn. Today it's a matter of the lack of money. You see, now I have things to pay for like a mortgage, electric bills, water bills, insurance, cable, groceries, dog food, etc. So the other day when I realized I have no winter clothes that fit (this is due to the fact that I've lost 42 pounds and all my clothes are too large), I headed to the thrift store.

Upon entering the store I noticed I had my work cut out for me. Shirts, pants, sweaters, pajamas, skirts, bathrobes - you name it - wereall mixed together on the racks by color. Not size. Color. Imagine my joy. I had to go through every single hanger and read labels on every single article of clothing.

Two hours later, with my cart overflowing with clothes, I headed to the dressing rooms. When I reached the dressing rooms, I was kindly informed that I was only allowed to take six...SIX...items with me. I selected my first six items and started trying on clothes. As I finished and stepped out to retrieve an additional six items I noticed that my shopping cart had a lot more clothing in it than when I left it. Hmmm. Yes, someone or everyone, took it upon themselves to unload their unwanted items in my cart. While I was sorting through this added task, I was kindly reminded again that I was only allowed to take six items in with me. My response was to stare at the clerk like a deer caught in the headlights. Did she really think I was going to try on the toddler size jumper?

After several trips into the dressing rooms, I left with three shirts and two pair of pants. All for just under $20. Not bad. And since my plan is to continue to lose weight, I'll be back at the thrift store again. Only next time, I'll make sure to only load my cart with six items at a time.

My Peanut

I am the proud momma of a two year old Chihuahua/Jack Russel Terrier. Her name is Peanut. We rescued her from the local animal control shelter. Had we not adopted her, she would have been euthanized. I can not imagine my life without her. Although, I do seem to remember life was much more quiet before she became the fourth member of our family.

You see, Peanut believes she must be the protector of the household. She is the smallest and therefore must compensate by being the loudest. She barks at everything. And I mean everything. She barks when I vacuum. She barks when my husband cuts the grass. She barks at the mailman. She barks at the people walking down the street. She barks at the neighbor's dogs. She barks at the spiders on the ceiling. She is constantly letting us know something is happening somewhere. When she is quiet...she's causing trouble.

After work one day I walked into the house to find that there had been a re-enactment of the Boston Tea Party in my kitchen. Somehow Peanut managed to get up onto the kitchen counter and open my tea canister. Five hundred tea bags were ripped to shreds. As I stood gaping at the mess, Peanut ran circles around me. Of course she did. She was high on caffeine.

I've made many emergency phone calls to the vet. Peanut has consumed multi-vitamins, birth control pills, anti-depressants, diabetic and kidney medication. Not once did she ever have any kind of reaction. Her vet is dumb-struck as am I. Of course, now we keep the medication in a locked cabinet so Peanut can't get into it.

Not too long ago, I walked into the house and found that it had snowed. It was 86 degrees outside, but it had snowed in my living room. Peanut had found her way into the bathroom and discovered my package of maxi pads. That's right, I said maxi pads. Do you know how incredibly hard it is to vacuum maxi pad cotton?

Ah, but she is a snuggler. If you're having a bad day, she'll snuggle right up to you. She's so eager to be loved on and give love back. She'll crawl right up onto your chest and wrap her head around your neck. It's like she's giving you her version of a hug. I wouldn't trade those moments for anything. I'll take cleaning up tea bags and vacuuming maxi pads anytime when I know my reward is the unconditional love I get from my Peanut.

Girls Hunt Too!

Last deer hunting season my husband woke at 5:00 a.m. to brave the wind and the cold as he tracked his way out to his deer stand. I woke with him and wished him luck on his opening hunt. I tidied our little cabin and anxiously waited for his return.

Two hours later he arrived home empty handed, hungry and cold. I fixed breakfast and we watched the snow start to fall outside. Casually I asked him how cold it was outside. He said, "Pretty cold. Why? You want to try it?" Mmmmmm...."Maybe." I reply.

Shortly after breakfast, I laid down for a nap. When I woke up, my husband was dressing to head back out for more hunting. He asked if I wanted to tag along. He explained to me there was a deer stand close by that we could both sit in comfortably. I thought to myself, why not? I would finally get a chance to see what all the fuss was about.

We hiked out to the deer stand. It was 20 feet in the air. I looked at my husband and said, "Uh, no way. I have to climb a tree?!" He just laughed at me and said I could use the stairs if I preferred. "Oh," was all I could muster in response.

Once we were settled in the stand, I wondered how long we'd wait to see a deer. My husband was gracious enough to let me use his binoculars so I could look around. As I adjusted to using the binoculars, I realized how quiet and peaceful the woods were. There was a different pace about the woods with squirrels running from tree to tree and birds flitting about. I noticed I couldn't hear cars running, trains whistling, sirens blowing, dogs barking, or planes flying overhead. Instead I heard leaves rustling in the breeze, birds chirping their songs, squirrels gathering acorns, and the sound of my own heart beating. It was amazing. At that moment I had a glimpse of what God had in mind as He set forth and created the earth and life.

As I sat soaking in all God's wonder, something caught my eye. I looked through my binoculars and there she was. A doe. So beautiful. I quietly motioned to my husband. Just as he raised his rifle to shoot, she moved. Swiftly, graceful. From that moment I was hooked. I knew now why hunting was so important to my husband.

This year I'm preparing to be the huntress in the woods. I've got my blaze orange. I've got my rifle. All I need now is my perfect spot in the woods.

Shoes

"Cinderella is proof that a single pair of shoes can change your life." I'm not sure who said that but I like it.

I've been known to be a bit of a shoe-hound. I have several pair. I currently only have 21 pair. When I married, my husband told me I needed to get rid of some shoes. I boldly went through my 43 pair at the time and very reluctantly tossed out 13 pair. I was, of course, heart broken and within a week had purchased 2 new pair to fill in the empty spaces in my closet.

I admit, I can go overboard. I've been known to purchase a pair of shoes that will simply go with only 1 outfit. What's a girl to do? And what girl can pass up a buy 1, get 1 half off sale? I'm trying to be a bit more conservative when I shoe shop, after all we're in a recession. To prove my point, I just purchased a super cute heel on sale for $10.99, marked down over 50% off. Can you believe it? When I showed my husband he stated, "Don't you already have those?" I said, "Honey! Those are black leather. These are brown suede. Totally different shoes." He simply rolled his eyes and sighed as he knew he was defeated in any argument he may have wanted to incur.

Shoes are like comfort food. They give pure satisfaction and unconditional love. The bonus is there is no caloric intake. This makes them even more coveted. BoGo anyone?

Firefighter's Wife

I am a firefighter's wife. A volunteer firefighter's wife, I may add. There is a difference. All firefighter's wives carry the burden of worry as their husbands respond to the call of duty, but a volunteer firefighter's wife hears every page that is called out. We carry an extra burden called knowledge. We know if a grass fire is burning out of control and families need to evacuate. We know if there is a serious car accident with possible fatalities. We know if someone's loved one is lost in the woods when the temperature is subzero. Not only do we worry of the potential dangers our husbands face, we also worry about the families our husbands are serving.

There is a special camaraderie when you are a firefighter's wife. There is an unspoken word that's shared, for each of us knows the others fears. There is a pride we carry deep in our hearts, but we dare not boast. We are fervent prayer warriors, as prayers are lifted at every page, "Keep him safe, oh Lord, and bring him home to me."

I used to resent being a firefighter's wife. I couldn't understand why my husband could devote so much of himself to a job. I told myself countless times that he loved the job more than me. I know now that isn't the truth. He doesn't do the job because he loves me less, he does the job because I love him. Loving him gives him the strength to do the job. Firefighting is his passion and it's who he is. I couldn't ask him to turn away from himself.

As I write these thoughts, the pager goes off. Grass fire in Mayhew township, section 18. "Keep him safe, oh Lord, and bring him home to me."

Hospital Corners

As I sat watching my sister fold a hospital corner on the bed she was making, I was struck by how much we take for granted in this life.

Two years ago this March 8th my sister had a near fatal car accident. She was T-boned on the passenger side of her car by a truck traveling 65 mph. Volunteer firefighters had to use the jaws of life to free her from the wreckage. Paramedics rushed to keep her alive as they took her by ambulance to the Mayo Clinic. She underwent emergency surgery to check for internal injuries and she suffered from two collapsed lungs and swelling of her brain. The following seventy-two hours were critical.

The three hour drive to Rochester, MN was unnerving. We drove past the accident sight. Thoughts of death and unspoken feelings went through my mind. But none of that compared to what I thought or felt when I walked into ICU and saw her lying in bed. I've never seen anyone look so small. She was tiny. Her hands were cold. Her only movement was from the ventilator as it filled her lungs causing her chest cavity to expand. I wondered how she would ever recover.

She's still recovering today. Her balance is still off, but she no longer has to walk with a cane. She's lost her ability to multi-task. Her sense of humor is getting stronger too. She lost her short term memory so it takes awhile to make a memory. Her stubbornness however, was never lost.

My parents moved to an apartment this past weekend. Because of my sister's balance, she was unable to help except when it came to making the beds. She boldly told everyone to step out of the room. I offered to help but she turned me down. "I can do this," she said. I stood in the doorway and watched. I could see her eyes knit together as she meticulously lifted the corner of the sheet to fold a hospital corner. I saw a glimpse of pride flash across her face as she stepped back to see how she did. I turned away with tears in my eyes praising God for hospital corners.

To Sing or Not To Sing

Okay, I just have to say we were not all meant to the next American Idol.

Seriously people! Just because grandma says you can sing doesn't mean you can. The truth? When grandma tells you that, she turns off her hearing aids.

I can't imagine what comes over people at these auditions. Tonight I watched (painfully, I might add) contestant after contestant brutally hacking apart songs that were at one point top hits. Most were so bad I had to ask my girlfriend, "What song are they trying to sing again?" Often, she could not answer.

And the judges. Why? WHY? Why do they let these people continue to sing? If I were a judge, after the first note I would say, "Thank you. No. Good bye. Security." I can't imaging how their heads feel after a full day of listening to vocal murder. I seriously hope they are paid for their pain and suffering.

But yet, week after week I tune in to see who will become the next American Idol.

Change

Today is the inauguration of our 44th president. He promises change. I have to admit, I did not vote for Obama. This does not mean I am upset my canidate did not win the election. Unlike many democrats in 2004 who declared Bush was NOT their president, I am declaring Obama is mine. That's the beauty of living in a democracy. Both parties had their say and the rest of America made a statement of their own. America chose Obama.

In just a few hours President Elect Obama will make his way up the steps of the nation's capital. He will place his hand on the very same Bible Abraham Lincoln (this nation's greatest president, in my opinion) used in his inaurguration and will be sworn in as President of the United States of America. It is a day of change. Is this the change Obama promised? The media is declaring this day the greatest day in America's History. My hope is President Obama's legacy will be more than just being the first African American President.

My fear is people will expect too much from this man. He is after all just that - a man. He's going to make mistakes. I hope he does. Not so I can declare him a failure as a president, but so that America can see he's only human. I believe the bigger change will come when he learns from the mistakes he'll make.

Although I declare myself a conservative republican, I am looking forward to the next four years. They will certainly be interesting. I'm intrigued and curious to see what lies ahead for America. Change. Perhaps this thought process is President Obama's promise.

Thoughts on Friendship

Saturday evening I got together with my girlfriends for conversation and food. Some of these girls I've been friends with since the second grade. Some of these girls I haven't seen in years. But when we get together it's like no time has passed at all. A few hours of gabbing and we're caught up. There's always laughter and sometimes tears. There's always companionship and sometimes inspiration. And there is always unconditional love.

We were told by many that our friendships wouldn't go beyond high school. Here it is nearly 20 years later and we still are very close. A lot can be said for these girls I call my friends. I wouldn't trade anything for what I've been blessed with. We've been there for each other in times of crisis, in times of sorrow, in times of joy. There seems to be a bond with us that cannot be broken.

I often wonder what I've done in this tiny life of mine to deserve such wonderful women as friends. It's overwhelming at times. Over time I've learned not to question what God has given me. Instead I've learned how to hold on to the precious gift of friendship.

Have you told your friends today you love them? You should. It will come back to you tenfold.

The Big Freeze

I woke this morning to the sound of my husband's voice stating, "It's f---ing cold outside." My reply was, "Yep."

We live in Minnesota. It's January 14th. It's not like we should expect sandy beaches and sunshine. Okay, well maybe sunshine. That's what typically makes these arctic blasts feel like hell has just frozen over. It has been 55 straight hours of sub-zero temperatures. The record is 186 hours set back in 1921. (Don't ask me why I know this.) They say history repeats itself. I think we just might break that record. The news this morning is stating that Anchorage Alaska is 42 degrees. And the Arctic Circle is 6 degrees. Are you kidding me? That's a 68 degree difference! Seriously...it's 26 degrees below zero - standing temp. With the wind chill it's 45 degrees below zero.

Staying warm is tricky. The key is layers. The more the better. Start with long underwear, add a dash of jeans, turtle necks and sweaters. Top it off by tossing in a woolen scarf, a stocking cap, mittens and a thermal jacket. Remember to not take too long putting this all together. The results are profuse sweating which causes immediate freezing upon stepping outside.

Why do we Minnesotans love the big freeze? Who knows. It is one of life's imponderables.