#1) Clairol Perfect 10 Hair Color.  Because paying $80 for a hair color job (on long hair) and then having roots start to show within two weeks does not cut it, folks. I can get by on five weeks (six if I push it) between coloring, and it costs me $10 at my local Target. I’ve tried other brands, but this one seems to hold the best and looks the most natural. So if you’re bemoaning those pesky silver tyrants (as Mary over at Giving Up On Perfect was the other day), keep this product in mind. Oh, and it comes with this amazing conditioner that makes my hair feel like silk. You’ve got to try it. (Note: I’m not being paid for this, although Clairol is welcome to send me a freebie if they’re so inclined. I won’t turn them down.)

#2) Avon’s Advance Techniques Color Reviving Shampoo and Conditioner. Honestly, I’ve tried the pricier brands and I think this works much better, and it’s so inexpensive! Again, I’m all for saving money. If you haven’t tried it before, go ahead and test it out. And if you don’t have an Avon Lady, you can purchase it from my online store. I even have a FREE MASCARA GIVEAWAY going on right now for first-time, online customers (”Direct Delivery” - US customers only). Just come back here and leave me a comment; let me know you placed an order and tell me what color you’d like: Black, Brown/Black, Brown or Navy. (Note: This is a shameless promotion of my personal website/store in an effort to garner new customers. Nothing but full disclosure here.)

#3) Culinary Circle Rosemary and Olive Oil Artisan Bread from Albertsons. Okay, so there is no logical progression here . . . from hair care to bread. This just happens to be my latest obsession. I picked up a loaf for no apparent reason the other week (must have stopped in during the middle of a carb craving). And now, I am totally addicted. I’m going to go broke if I keep buying it (good thing I’m saving money in the hair care department). Fortunately, I discovered a recipe online and I’m hoping it will taste similar. I’ll have to try making it and get back to you with the results (though it could be another mishap, like my previous crumpet experiment).

Well, we’re having another gorgeous, sunny, 50-something degree day here in Idaho. Must get out and enjoy it now . . . and walk off that piece of bread I just ate. : )

Thanks for visiting. For more Friday Favorites, head on over to Hillary’s blog.

Since I haven’t done a hard-core class in well over a year, I start out with a “Gentle Fitness” class. I’m forcing myself to go slow and not rush into the very-cool-but-probably-intense “Zumba” class. I had back surgery in November of 2008 (with good results), and I’ve been a bit timid to do certain things. Anyway, I walk into the class and I’m greeted by a dozen or so women, all of whom appear to be over 60. So this is what it’s come to, has it?

The moves are really basic, but as the teacher progresses through the class, she gives us tips on how to make it harder. And wow, suddenly I’m starting to feel the burn and I look around at these ladies imagining how much harder it must be on their bodies; and I think, Good for you! Way to take care of yourself. It’s sweet, actually, and makes me think of my Mom; I can imagine us taking a class like this together (if we lived close by, that is). I make a mental note to call and tell her about it.

This really is a good, gentle start. Now all I have to do is ignore the voice in my head, the one that thinks it’s 25 years old and wants to do cool stuff like this.

Somehow I have to find a happy medium, between the above and this…

             +     

How about you? How has your exercise regimen changed over the years? What’s working for you?

Here’s the area before…

And after…

Last weekend, we finished repainting the bench area to match the walls. That was a little tricky, as we couldn’t quite remember how we had done the faux effect the first time (over 10 years ago). It’s fairly close, though; and anyway, it will be covered by a seat cushion and throw pillows. That’s my next project: finding or making seat cushions to fit the area.

The project was done by our good friend, Todd at TM Hubbard Design/Build (tmhdesignbuild @ gmail.com). Some of the other house projects he’s done for us are featured in an earlier post. As you can see, the bench is similar to the bookshelves (see above link). We were able to use some extra corbels that were leftover from the building of our house to support the bench. And those tie in with the rest of the corbels throughout the house.

The table was also handcrafted by Todd. I could not get a picture that does it justice, so you’ll just have to believe me when I say, “It is so pretty!” It’s knotty pine, which matches our cabinets, and is slightly distressed. We added a glass top, which makes for easy cleaning. The table is attached via a rusty colored metal arm that’s extending from the wall. It gives the area a nice open feel and leaves plenty of room for legs; and there’s no place for crumbs to hide. Again, easy cleaning!

Next up on the home projects’ list: finishing off the basement, including a third bathroom (which will come in handy when both the girls (16 & 19) are trying to get ready at the same time…because you know how girls can be).

Up next…

If you happen to live in Idaho and have a unique home project you’d like tackled, feel free to contact Todd at the email listed above. His work includes everything from pergolas and decks to remodels, tile work (including mosiacs) and built-ins.

*  *  *

If this is your first time visiting, welcome! Kick up your feet, grab some coffee and stay for a while. Get to know me a little better by reading some of my earlier posts. Find out about my joy stealers, a snow poem in the works, and how I accidentally seem to fall into these jobs.

Before: How many family members does it take to assemble a dorm bed into a bunk bed? This was no easy task, and I’m still a little worried about that bed…very wobbly.

After: Voila! The finished product and most things in place. Home away from home.

Now, back to life as usual around here. Second semester and life goes on. Hope you all are off to a good start in 2010.

Blessings!

There’s a perfect gift that is not made by human hands. You won’t find it under your tree.  In fact, the only way to find this gift is to search for it with all of your heart.  You won’t find it at the mall.  You won’t stand in long lines to get this gift; no fighting traffic or impatient crowds.  You won’t be trampled trying to get it.  There’s no price tag.  You see, it’s free.  And the best part is, it fits every heart perfectly: the perfect fit, the perfect size…every time.  No returns needed.  Your name is already written on the gift tag.  All you have to do is receive it.

Shepherds found it.  Wisemen found it.  I hope you will find it, too…the perfect gift…Jesus.  Go ahead.  Make room in your heart and unwrap your gift.

Merry Christmas!

We start to giggle a little and wait for her to read it. We’re dying of curiosity. Then, she starts cracking up. She shows us the note. 

It looks like Matt had some help writing the note. Notice how the P.S. is in a different handwriting with a different pen?

Pretty soon we’re all giggling like a bunch of school kids. “Mae, write something back!” I say.

“What should I write?”

“Say, ‘Matt, I’ve been staring at your butt all night.’ ” says her dad.

“Daaaad! No way. I can’t say that!”

I give her another idea and then she jots down this at the top of the receipt:

Thanks Matt.  I’ve been watching you all night.  - Mae

Then for the final touch, she draws this.

We tuck the note in with the money and leave in a hurry, laughing the whole way out. There are windows all around the restaurant, and as we round the corner we look back and can see the waiter. He’s got a big smile on his face and he’s showing the note to the other servers. Of course, this sets off another round of laughs from us; and, it gives the girls something to talk and giggle about all the way home.

I’ve been laughing so much my stomach hurts. I think: what a perfect ending to Mae’s birthday. This was just too much fun; though, I’m not sure we’ll ever be able to show our faces in there again. Well, Kiki’s birthday is in April. Maybe by then…

I would be flying solo on this one. And I wondered: could I produce a top-quality end product. Would it be good enough? Would it be as good as when Mattie does it? Or would the lady realize I am a fraud? Prone to overnight dishes in the sink, clutter on counters and cobwebs in corners.

Four hours. That’s how long this little project would last. That’s four hours and four full bathrooms; no wiping down cabinets or drawers. At least, that’s what she told me when I called a few nights ago to ask about the project. Then, when I get there, she tells me that she would like me to do the drawers and cabinets, especially in the children’s bathrooms. She also tells me to hit the baseboard (in the master bath toilet room) and wants me to use this pumice stone thing on the toilets and porcelain sinks, as needed. Okay, I tell her and get to work. I think: I’ll check my time and if it looks like I won’t make it on schedule, something will have to give.

After an hour and 45 minutes I’m just finishing the master bath… a monster of a project. I calculate how much time I have left to split between three baths and decide I need to pick up the pace. I skip the master bath cabinets and move on. I crank out the next two baths, with cabinets, in about 45 to 50 minutes. By the fourth and last bath tub I can hardly lift my arms. They feel like jello and they’re shaking. Boy, I am a wimp.

I’m not quite done yet and my four hours is up, so I set a new deadline 20 minutes ahead. I figure I can give her 20 minutes more out of the goodness of my heart, since I took so long on the master. But, not one minute more. She’ll have to pay for it otherwise. I’m not doing this for free. I mean, who in their right mind would do this for free? Oh, wait… I do, all the time. But not all at once. Not four full bathrooms in a row, because that’s just crazy. And anyway, who has four bathrooms? Who would want four bathrooms… to clean? But, anyway… on with my story.

So now I have until 1:00. I’m working furiously to beat the clock. I’ve fallen into a weird zen-like bathroom-cleaning rhythm. It’s beautiful, really. I know Mattie would be proud. I feel strangely energized, but really, I’m pooped. My fingertips are throbbing and my arms are practically useless. And I feel like a drowned rat because of all the water I inadvertently splashed on myself in the process.

I finish and meet her in the kitchen to tell her I’m done. She says something about how she appreciates my help and that was a lot, with the cabinets and floors… Floors? Did she just say floors, ’cause there’s no way I could do the floors in that time frame, too. So just to be clear, I tell her what I didn’t do: the master bath cabinets/drawers, the baseboards in the smaller baths, and no floors. Oh, and “The goop that was in the drawer of one of the kid’s bathrooms, when I went to try and scrub it off, it took the paint right off with it. Sorry, I had no idea that the goop had actually caused the paint to bubble up and ruin the finish.” I want to be honest, you know. No surprises.

I say goodbye quickly and with relief, I slide into my car and try to lift my arms onto the steering wheel. It feels like they weigh about 30 pounds each. I feel muscles I had long forgotten about. I really just want to go home, but I’ve got deliveries to make, a bank stop and a few more items to get for Mae’s birthday (number 19), which is also today.

*  *  *

Fast forward to the evening. We’re out to dinner at Chili’s. The young, not-so-bad looking waiter brings Mae a lava cake with ice cream. Does he sing for her? No. Instead, he sheepishly slides a note under her plate. To find out what it said and how she responded back, you’ll have to come back next time. I’m just too tired to tell you the story right now.

Twenty years. Wow, where did the time go?! Hubby and I had been married two years, were living in a cute little apartment in San Jose and both had decent jobs. This was before kids, and I’m glad that they weren’t on the scene yet, as that would have added a whole other element of fear and confusion.

Being that this happened at rush hour and I was commuting home on the freeway from my job at Sunset Magazine (maybe I’ll tell you more about that later), I was not immediately aware of what was happening. All I knew was that my tiny Toyota Tercel, going 60 mph, suddenly felt like it had flats on both sides of the car. Then, when I saw all the other cars’ break lights and the ancient trees lining the road whipping side to side as if they were rubber, I knew we were in the midst of an earthquake… a big one!

Growing up in California, quakes were part of the territory. I had been through a few minor ones already, but nothing like this. Getting from my point on the freeway to my apartment took me almost two hours (normally a 30 minute or so drive). Power was out, so street lights were not working. It was mayhem to say the least. Keep in mind that this was before cell phones, so I had no way to contact my husband. Our only option was to meet back at the apartment.

Here’s what I found when I got home. We hadn’t accumulated too much stuff up to this point, so it could have been worse. Sadly, we did lose the toasting glasses from our wedding (shown on the floor in this pic).

 Upstairs in the spare room, heavy opjects — TV and weight set — were tossed to the floor.

These are the only pictures I took that day. I wish I had captured the sky (orange and smoky) and all the people milling around outside. It was all very surreal. I remember it was one of those unseasonably warm, Indian Summer days. Everything seemed out of place, out of sorts.

Hubby had been on campus at a local community college where he was taking a class with a friend. He actually saw the wave in the ground, rolling through the parking lot. Pretty freaky. Fortunately, he made it home shortly after I did. No scratches, bumps, or bruises… just a little shaken up.

We got an extra day off together, as both of our work sites were closed for repair (fallen ceiling tiles, etc.). And we were forced to go out for breakfast, since we had no power on our street. And if I remember correctly, we spent the rest of the day fielding phone calls from friends and family.  

Looking back, I’m so thankful that we were both safe that day; that my commute didn’t involve traveling over one of the Bay bridges; that we both made it home in one piece. Looking back, it’s hard to believe that 20 years has gone by with so much living packed into that time — buying our first home, the birth of our two girls, moving to Idaho, building our home, raising our girls, college shopping, college payments…

Ah, yes, I’m definately feeling old as I think of this. There are those “landmarks” in your life that bring you back instantly to a certain time and place, good or bad. This was definately one of those.

How about you? Do you have an event that takes you back, a landmark of sorts?

It’s good to be outside and walking, enjoying the scenery. Kiki doesn’t waste any time. She wants to talk and starts up a “game.”

“We each take turns asking each other a question, and you have to answer truthfully,” she says.

Hmmm, kind of like Truth or Dare, only without the dare part.  As long as she doesn’t ask me another one of those uncomfortable questions about my past, as she has a habit of doing.

“Okay,” I tell her. “You go first.”

“What is one moment in your life you would like to go back to and experience again,” she asks.

“I don’t think I can pick just one (long pause here): Right after you and Mae were born, not the labor part, but after; first kiss with your dad; and our wedding reception.”

“Not the ceremony?” she asks.

“No, not really. Too nerve wracking. There was so much leading up to that day… all the planning and everything. And it was very formal… I think I would have done the ceremony part differently, if I had to do it over. It was such a relief to finally be married, and then the reception was such a blast.”

“Your turn,” I tell her. “What is something that you’re afraid of?”

She starts to say something about not being accepted and loved and then… ”Or do you mean, like how I always have to look under the bed?”

“Yeah, more like that kind of thing.”

“Well, I’m afraid of losing my memory, not being able to remember anything,” she continues. And I’m afraid of people getting cancer.”

We both know what prompted the loss of memory fear, seeing her grandmother go through the stages of Alzheimers. I’m not sure where the cancer fear came from.

I tell her some of my fears and then the game sort of goes to the wayside. She asks me if I ever imagine the kind of guy she will marry, and do I think God tells people who they’re supposed to marry.

It’s funny that I do imagine the kind of guy for her. I even prayed about future spouses for both the girls that morning in church (not sure why it occured to me to do that, but now here was her question).  I told her what I thought, and retold my story, again. 

Sadly, we have to finish our walk and head to a nearby coffee shop so that Kiki can do some homework. Once there, I pull out my book and Kiki gets to work on her math. Whenever I look up, Kiki is still flipping through her book, looking for examples, I imagine.  We move to a table outside where it’s a little quieter. After another 20 minutes or so go by, I look at her paper and she hasn’t written one problem; I catch her staring off at something down the street. She sighs and says “Let’s go home. I can’t concentrate here.”

So there ends our lovely fall excursion. We pick up our conversation in the car. And at home, Kiki hunkers down and gets her math done. 

*  *  *

Mae and college news:

Mae came home with a picture she drew for a 2D Design class. She got a 100% on the assignment and received several compliments on it as it was hanging in the hallway of the art building. I guess I can still brag about my child’s artwork, even if that “child” is almost 19. 

This picture doesn’t really do it justice. I don’t think there’s a straight line in the whole picture. It’s made up entirely of squiggles. I can’t wait to see what she does next.

I wanted to share my own built-in bookshelves and a ladder made specially for a loft in the master bedroom.  Both of these were done by a very good friend of ours who is a designer and builder. His business is TM Hubbard Design/Build (tmhdesignbuild @ gmail.com). 

I have quite the book collection and this is the perfect place to showcase them; plus there’s room for business stuff, too, on the lowest level (note the baskets that slide in and out). This is part of a tiny loft area that overlooks the living room and is just outside the master bedroom. Next to the window is a built in L-shaped desk, also crafted by our friend, which holds our computer and printer. 

This ladder was also crafted by him. It gives us access to a small master bedroom loft, which we use for storage. The ladder slides up against the wall when not in use. 

I have some more ideas in store for our friend. Maybe this winter we can get him to build out our kitchen nook with some built-in benches. I’ll keep you posted. And some other time I’ll share photos of the house, which is very unusual and designed by another friend with whom my husband attended college.

If you haven’t visited Hooked on Houses yet, I encourage you to stop by. You’ll get to see some pretty cool interiors and you might be even get ideas for your own living spaces.