a question of legality

It's not often I come to you with a question of: is this legal, and should I do it?

But today is your lucky day.

So there's a house a few doors down from us. (Side note: why do we describe houses as being "doors" down? What form of standardized measurement is that?) It's abandoned/foreclosed/vacant/not really sure, but no one lives there, it's empty, and when they left they took their CHAIN LINK FENCE with them. ??????. Right. It's in some state of being managed by a 3rd party, and it's been "winterized" according to the sticker on the door, which is really good since it might get down into the low 90s later this week. I'd hate for the pipes to freeze.

Anyway. Another slightly irrelevant side-note is that when people DID live there, which was up until a few months ago, they had 3 dogs that they kept outside in their chain link fence. The dogs barked All. The. Time. I mean, 24/7. I couldn't sleep through the night for the first 2 weeks I lived here because I wasn't accustomed to nonstop barking (and trains). Anyway, so even though I never really knew them, they really weren't my favorite neighbors ever. But like I said, that's irrelevant.

So the thing is, this vacant and abandoned house, apparently owned by ***** Home Finance and inhabited by no one...well, it has the most spectacular hydrangea bush the world has ever seen. I'm not even exaggerating. It is jaw-droppingly beautiful. The blooms are the deepest, purest navy blue/purple you have ever seen. Not a hint of white on them. I mean, this is THE hydrangea I will forever measure all other hydrangeas by. And there it is, growing right up next to the front porch, practically invisible to the road because of some trees...and the house is vacant.

You can see where I'm going, right??

Would it be completely immoral/illegal to say, snip a few of those gorgeous blooms and take them home to enjoy them in a vase?? I mean, let's be honest. NO ONE is appreciating them where they are. (Unless there are other creepy neighbors like me, who prowl around the yards of vacant homes, looking for pretty flowers....) (j/k, I wasn't prowling. I just have a sixth sense for hydrangeas.) (maybe I was prowling a little bit.) I'm not talking about digging up the whole bush or anything (unless you think that wouldn't be wrong. then I might consider it)...just a few of the blooms, from the bottom or the back where they wouldn't even be missed...because they would look SO FABULOUS in a mason jar on my mantle...right??

I mean...the homeowners aren't enjoying them. Obviously if they cared that much, like as much as they cared about their fence, they coulda dug up the bush and took it with 'em. I personally don't think the bank is really coming out every evening and sipping a glass of tea on the porch, taking in the breathtaking beauty right next to them. AND, the house isn't even for sale. Because if it were, I would argue that the hydrangeas add to the value of the home (I, for one, would pay a lot more for a house with a hydrangea like that.). But it's not, and so I don't think taking a few blooms would be like...vandalizing, or lowering the value of the property. 

So I need your help. Should I take a few? Could I get arrested? Is there a cop out there, reading this blog, wanting to weigh in? Perhaps a lawyer? Or someone who has had their home foreclosed on and left behind a beautiful hydrangea bush? Anyone? Bueller? 

(PS. I will go ahead and admit that I did *ahem* help beautify their property today by removing the weekly circular from their driveway. There may or may not have been a $5 Publix coupon inside I was after. The point is, now there is one less circular in the huge pile on their driveway. Yes, I am the best neighbor ever.)

(PPS. Remember, I had to listen to those stupid dogs ALL THE TIME. Don't they sorta OWE me a few lousy hydrangeas?)

dead tired

What is it about sun and water that completely DRAINS you? You would think I'd run a marathon today, judging by the way I feel. Lucky for us all, I didn't attempt anything nearly that strenuous. But still. I'm exhausted. But I just have a few quick things to say before bed.

First of all, tomorrow I begin my "summer schedule" at work, which is 7-5:30 Monday through Thursday. So yes, I get Fridays off, but can I please point out how miserable that makes the other 4 days? Let's not forget I have a 30 minute commute on each side of that as well. So basically, I should already be in bed. But I'm not. Alas.

Also, why is it that "they" (whoever that is) take something that is perfectly good and perfectly healthy, and then think of a way to turn it into something way unhealthy and delicious? And for some reason, I can't resist the bad way. Like right now I'm eating some chocolate covered Craisins. I personally enjoy the regular Craisins, although I realize that their "healthiness" is already a little debatable. But still. Why'd they have to go invent something like chocolate covered Craisins? Couldn't we just leave well enough alone? I would also like to blame my mother for being the one to buy them and send them home with me last weekend. Thanks, saboteur! I have the same problems with fruit dips at parties. Normally I eat strawberries and grapes just the way they come, plain, and I think they are delicious. But at a party/shower, someone inevitably brings some cream-cheesey dip (usually me), and then I can't help but cover every bite of fruit with fat and calories. UGH! Who invented this stuff??! I hate them.

Alright, onto the final topic at hand.

Awhile back, someone (I think it was Amanda J, but I could be wrong...and I'm too lazy to go back and look) commented that they wanted to see a blog from/by Matt. She said she felt like she didn't really know Matt, and suggested that I do some kind of getting-to-know-Matt post. I thought that was a good idea, especially because I bet half the people that know him in REAL life want the same thing! He's a rather quiet guy, and especially if I'm around...he doesn't usually get a lot of words in. Imagine that. Anyway, I explained to him this terrible situation (that you guys don't really KNOW him very well), and he agreed to do an "interview." If anyone has any kind of questions they'd like Matt to answer, he has agreed to answer them, and I will post it here. I've seen this done on other blogs and it was a lot of fun, so you guys better jump on board. Here are some examples of questions I'm envisioning :

Matt, what's it like being married to such an amazing woman?
Do you ever get over the thrill of being married to Erika?
What's your favorite thing about Erika?

and so on. But in the event you actually don't just want to know more about ME (hard to imagine)...feel free to ask about anything. Infertility, work, sports, dealing with strong-willed women...you know, any of the things you think Matt might deal with. :) 

So...ask away. Even if you don't have anything you want to know...be a sport and think of SOMETHING so that I don't have to make up all the questions myself. Think to yourself "well at least this will be better than hearing Erika whine about babies again..." and I know a question of some sort will come to you.

And with that, I'm off to bed. It was a wonderful Memorial Day and I am completely exhausted. Goodnight!   

digging. and a bathing suit.

You know how you can tell when it's a Saturday? (Well, other than the fact that you slept in, you didn't go to work, and life was just a lot better than normal...) When you check your Reader and there are NO new blogs. I mean, seriously, people. What do you do on Saturdays that's so much better than blogging? Just because it's weekend doesn't mean I stop needing reading material. So next weekend I'd appreciate it if you could do a little more blogging and a little less...whatever else you would be doing.

But my weekend has been great, thanks for asking! And the best part is: tomorrow is a holiday!! Woohoo!! For the past two years, I've had to WORK on Memorial Day (and pretty much every other holiday, too), so I am extra excited about having tomorrow off. I love not-working. Oh, funny thing from work on Friday, though: I was chatting with one of my favorite co-workers, and we were perusing the day's headlines on Yahoo. One of them was an article about how to make money blogging, so naturally I had to check it out. My friend was like "hey, you should start a blog! You would be a great blogger!" and I was like...dude, I already have a blog. And I'm still po'. So thanks. :) This leads me to conclude that people don't actually look over your full Facebook profile any more. I have a link to my blog at the bottom of my profile. It's not a secret or anything. So I just found that to be funny.

So I have this awesome habit of coming up with great ideas and sometimes, just sometimes, I decide to follow through with them. See, I've noticed over the past few years that the right side of our house is a little naked. I'm a big fan of flower beds and gardens, and it has come to my attention that we've totally neglected that side of the house. It's more like a weed showcase. Tall weeds. So I've decided that what needs to happen is a loonnnnnng flowerbed the whole length of the house (well, up to the AC unit). Some bushes. Some flowers. Some flair. And since I also happen to be the resident Gardener, Landscape Architect, and Lawn Maintenance Expert Extraordinaire, I decided that I would just make one this weekend. Lucky for me, I convinced Matt that he should help me (and by "help me," I naturally mean he should do the brunt of all the hard labor, while I helpfully boss him around). 

 before. We cut the grass the day before, so you can't tell that normally the weeds are like...window-high.

I was super proud of myself for thinking to measure the area before we left for Lowe's, and just in case you are interested, the space was 4 ft by 28 ft. In case you don't have your calculator handy, that's 112 square feet. 112 square feet of weed-plagued grass that had to be dug up. And the soil here in northeast Georgia is not so much soil as it is rock solid clay. People who used to live in Georgia will wax poetic about missing the Georgia red clay, with a longing sigh. People who have to dig up 112 square feet of it curse and shake their fists at God, questioning the meaning of life as they attempt to move the inpenetrable earth. So that was pretty much my Saturday. Digging, and digging, and then a little more digging. Intermittently I wondered whether any of my working out helped me to be more prepared for this day of digging, and I have concluded that I don't think so. Digging requires a skill and strength I'm not sure any amount of working out could get me. 

 during: the tiller isn't even useful until ALL the grass is moved. Ugh.

So we dug until our arms were broken and useless, and then we still had to dig some more holes to actually plant the bushes/flowers in. Talk about adding insult to injury. Hey Matt...thanks for doing the lion's share of digging up that enormous strip of grass. Would you mind now digging about 10 deep holes?? Thanks... The actual planting went really quickly compared to all the blasted DIGGING. As soon as those babies were in the ground, we called it a day and headed over to my in-law's house to collapse (and nearly drown, because I was entirely too tired to bother with keeping my head above water) in their pool. Classy fact: I had gotten really hot digging (imagine that, it was 94 degrees outside...) and so I had removed my tanktop in favor of working on my tan in my sports bra. I had also gotten really dirty. Therefore, by the time I made it to the pool, I realized I had little pockets of dirt in all the...um...creases in my skin. You know. I would say the "fat rolls," but that would be totally detrimental to my self-esteem, so we'll just say the areas where my skin sometimes folds over and touches. It creates a nice little spot for dirt to gather. Anyway, it was disgusting.

 Almost-after: We didn't tidy up and add mulch until Sunday.

We had a lot of fun hanging out with our family and some friends, which included some new friends who brought their 19-month old twin girls. They were cuter than could be, and have definitely solidified my plan to have multiples. Oh also, they were British. I'm not sure how I'm going to swing that one, but I will certainly try.

This morning at church was one of those sermons where it's like surely the pastor is reading my mail... this is so exactly what I needed/didn't want to hear. And then I realize...well, he DOES read my blog, which is probably more interesting than my mail anyway (bills, *yawn*)...so I guess maybe there could be a connection there. At any rate, the message was really challenging to me, about being persistent in prayer...and then don't you just know people wanted to pray for US, which naturally results in my crying my eyes out and my makeup off and I actually had tears running down my LEGS which was a new sensation. It was really encouraging, though...I love my church. Even if 95% of the people there are pregnant. I will forgive them as long as they keep praying for me. Ha.

The rest of the day has been good, and I even managed to find a bathing suit today that didn't totally make me want to vomit. Isn't it funny how your standards change as you age? A few years ago I might have wanted a bathing suit that was totally cute or made me look (tastefully) hot. Today I settled for the one that wasn't completely repulsive. YAY growing up!! On the way to the car, I asked Matt how much money is in our lipsuction budget. He said zero. That was depressing.

But tomorrow's a holiday, I have a not-completely-revolting bathing suit, and we're spending the day at the pool. That means this Sunday night is happy, and I'm off to enjoy it!! Goodnight!

lofty ambitions

It's Way Back When-sday!! Hip, hip, hooray!!!

I've gone through a lot of "dream career" phases in my short twenty-eight years here on Earth. Well, maybe it's really only an average amount. I'm not sure if I know what the average actually is. But I've had a lot of career aspirations.

In rough chronological order, I have wanted to be:

A paleontologist, an author, a teacher, an astronaut, a dancer, a librarian, an author, a Broadway singer/dancer, a physical therapist, a music therapist, an FBI agent, a mommy, and a lawyer.

Some of those dreams still persist-- I'll let you guess which ones (it's more than one. Put your guesses in the comments!)

However, despite my many career goals, most of my childhood play centered on a few favorite things. Digging through my old photos this week, I've noticed a few common things. I played dress-up and pretend a LOT (and I remember this, too...it's not just in the pictures). My favorite things to dress up as and pretend were, by far, 

a) being a mommy (high heels, lipstick, baby doll, purse)

b) being a teacher (high heels, chalkboard/whiteboard, prized "teacher edition" math book that I scored at a yard sale, bossy look on my face and sad faces on my reluctant siblings/students)

c) being an "office girl" (high heels, working at my desk with papers, files, pens, etc.)

Apparently my desk job was very tasking:

Now that I'm all grown up and my REAL JOB is actually about 50% teaching and 50% "office girl," I realize that my childhood play wasn't that far off from the truth. I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel like doing this all the time occasionally. (Things to note in this picture: That's a CHINESE JUMPROPE, aka the bomb dot com, draped over my shoulder. Not sure how it played into my office work, but obviously it did. Also, I appear to be a working mom-- see my baby stroller in the bottom left of the picture? I must have worked for Google or one of the other companies that let you take your kids to work. Also, I think I have this same haircut NOW.)

Happy Wednesday-before-a-three-day-weekend!!