One more blog after this one and I'm half way through. Can we all breathe a collective sigh of relief??

Crissy wrote me that she doesn't remember some of my stories. My sister says she doesn't remember some of my stories. But then again, I don't remember some of their stories. So it all comes out in the wash. But funny what sticks in the memory for whom. I shall attempt to jog Crissy's memory in an email.

There is red, green and gold glitter all over my computer keyboard. This is because when I finally cleaned up my Christmas act the other day, I washed a crystal bowl that had held glittered ornaments. It was my centerpiece, I go all out. I really can't explain how the glitter got over here, though. Lots of things in life have no logical explanation, wouldn't you agree?

Today I FINALLY made Pioneer Woman's The Best Pancakes. I was really going to make CDW'S pancakes first, but I couldn't find the recipe . . . yet. I know I have it because I NEVER throw out anything CDW writes. So, since Mike wanted something to eat and I was dragging my heels and it was nearing the time he would have to go eat again at his choir party, I just had to go ahead and make PW's pancakes, because they are a click away on the computer. Nothing's worse than not eating when you are invited out because . . . you just ate. This happened once a long time ago when I invited a family for dinner. I noticed the man wasn't eating much. Maybe I said something?, because I remember him saying he had just eaten before he came. Actually, my dinner was awful terrible that night, so who knows. Still, it didn't sit too well with me.

I LOVED THEM. The pancakes. Part of that may not be the recipe, but the flour I bought. PW said to use cake flour. So I marched to Rollin' Oats and bought organic pastry flour, which looked not white, it had color, like light wheat. Oh man, I have to say, they ARE the best. But, that is not definitive because CDW'S children prefer CDW'S pancakes. I shall make CDW'S pancakes with pastry flour, too. I just KNOW CDW'S are going to be even bester than best.

Sick as a dog, ate millions of pancakes and bacons late afternoon. Then I had a Coke at intermission at the orchestra concert because the bacon had made me so thirsty. Then late tonight I licked the spatula when I moved the cheesecake to another dish. See, Mike took cheesecake to the choir party. Whoa, what am I thinking?? We always sign up for dessert, not appetizer, because we are always late arrivers. This is my problem, when me cooks, me eats. I love the Nancy cartoon book NANCY EATS FOOD. Think I've mentioned this before. I so GET that.

Tonight I thought I was having a heart attack because I couldn't seem to feel any air in my lungs and I was light-headed. Icky. I'm so fat with pancakes, all the syrup traveled to my brain and stuck there and all the butter coagulated around my heart. After all, PW said to use an obscene amount of both, which is what I've always done anyways. It comes naturally.

PanKake KEM

All of a sudden, my white boring tablecloth doesn't look so boring anymore. It took about 15 seconds flat to cover it three inches deep in messy newspapers and mail and coupons and catalogs and a laptop, etc. You'd hardly even know the cloth is white. That took care of that little prob.

I am simply crazy for walking my dog. We walk up and down the prettiest streets, mostly canopied with oaks. The architecture is varied and impressive (not on my little street, but right around the corner). One of my favorite things is to walk at dusk and see the trees silhouetted against the dimming light. It gives me such peace and hope and makes me think of Michigan.

My other favorite thing is to observe all the cracks in the sidewalks and driveways. Cracks in cement are so chummy. I ask Jazzi, Aren't we having fun?!? Tonight I saw the Crime Lady a few dozen times, it seemed, there was no escaping her, wherever I went, here she comes. She asked if Jazzi could have a Beggin' Strip, or even a Chicken Tender (what's that?). I stuck to the BS and asked for a very tiny piece as Miss Jazzi is getting an impressive girth on her. Which I don't get since we are WALKING to LOSE weight. Half a block later it's the van again, sneaking up on us. CL asks, Did Jazzi eat her Strip? I said, Not yet, I use it as a bribe to get her to walk farther. CL thought that was a good idea.

And I love to imagine what people are doing in their homes at that particular time of say, especially when I know who lives in the house. It's very entertaining to walk, and too bad the both of us are gaining weight doing it.

This afternoon I went to the movie The Secrets of Jonathan Sperry. What a sweetheart of a movie. It's about a Christian older man (played by Murray from The Mary Tyler Love Show and then the Captain of Love Boat) who makes friends with adolescent boys in his small town. The spiritual influence he imparts is wide and deep. I also enjoyed studying the 1970 clothes, cars and lifestyle in general. How, in 2010, are we THAT removed from such a pleasant time? Since I was 10 years old in 1970, the movie was such a treat. Go see it, KEM says. If you live in St. Petersburg, it's playing at BayWalk.

My friend I told you about yesterday. She was born on Christmas day. So I should never have an excuse not to remember her birthday. And I always do remember it, just not always to her. Somewhere along Christmas day, I think, IT'S CRISSY'S BIRTHDAY, and I forgot to send a card. Rats, I'm such a crumb.

Well, Crissy had an intercom system in her house. Crissy loved to talk all night when I spent the night, but old KEM couldn't last. I mean, I'd last for a while, enough to hear this deep slow radio voice come over the com a few times, GIRLS, time to go to sleep. It was her father. Her mother was a saint and her dad was very patient. The next morning I would always wonder how long Crissy had talked before she realized I was asleep.

One of the funniest things we ever did had to do with a former boyfriend of mine. I had knowledge (a dangerous thing in the hands of a giddy teenager) that Mark was visiting in FL. I even had access to a phone number. Trouble. Crissy INSISTED I call him to arrange some type of meeting. Well, I called him, but of course it was awkward and I am a shy wallflower, you must remember. So I quickly had nothing to say. Meanwhile, Crissy is standing by telling me what to say and going into hysterics. Which of course made me go into hysterics. I kept waving her off to STOP IT!, to avail? Certainly not. I was laughing so hard I couldn't croak out anything. That phone call was the biggest flop ever of my slim-pickins romantic life. Then Crissy's dad, one to be on top of things, recommended, Would you quit chasing that boy! Needless to say, nothing ever came of that phone conversation, if such it could be classified. In fact, it yielded the direct opposite results I had in mind when I dialed. But it was a good laugh, in a peculiar sort of way. Crissy is a hoot.

Okay, a giant Target trip rounded out the day. I didn't have a written down list, only a mental list. You ever tried that? I got sidetracked in the shoe department because about a year ago I was visiting my sister and she bought me Target label black ballet type shoes, fake patent leather. Those shoes wore like slippers from the first second I had them on. And people liked them, Where did you get those?? So, I wore them to a frazzle and thought I'd look for some more. Jackpot! I now have a replacement pair, cute as can be, little dif style. My feet are not looking good in most shoes, have to "luck" out. And I'm switching to flats most of the time to save the old back.

Okay, I need to go squeeze some OJ before all the oranges on my floor start leaking (counter is full of junk, oranges on the floor, man, I am LOSING it). I am going to turn respectable very soon, you just watch. This is because my mother-in-law is visiting in about three scary little weeks. Mike thinks I am going to entertain the two German girls from his company when they are in town next week. I hope he knows I think he's kidding.

Happy Lil' KEM

Today I got to see my best friend from third grade. The one who decided she liked me and wanted to be my friend. Which was very helpful since I was so shy I had never had a friend yet. I will always be grateful to her for that. She brought me little presents to school and played with me on the playground. It was also good because it was a new school and gave me hope that someone might like me, which I hadn't had the pleasure at my former schools. Your head is a lonely world when it is full of self-doubt.

Anyway, my friend is so sweet and kind. For instance, she sent my DTD a birthday gift every year, it seems like, to age 18. Her friendship is very tender. One summer we roomed together at music camp. One night out of the blue she leaned over and planted a little kiss on my forehead and said, I love you. How sweet is that? I appreciate her loyalty and generosity to this day. When I was completely down and out she sent me monetary gifts for an extended length of time. When DTD and I were moving to a different apartment, this same friend came from another town to help me clean it up. And she's upbeat, ready to have a fun time. She's one to encourage you, too. To play the piano or follow the Lord. When the choir director angrily and repeatedly blamed me for his mistake, she was the first one in the bathroom later to comfort me. I spent so many Friday nights at her house you can't count 'em. She's the one who has the angel mother, who didn't scream, Bloody Murder! when we let the bathtub overflow. A lifelong friendship like this is more than a little God gift, it's a treasure.

I could say so much more, but that's a start.

Okay, I'm really wiped out. Loved the Korean skater. THAT was magnificent. She did not let her countrymen down. Isn't all that pressure such a shame? What are people thinking?

I've had two of you readers thank me for telling about my friend's new blog. Her blog is helpful. Mine is such a bunch of fluff. Is that okay?

FLUFFY KEM

Tonight I cooled it on the Olympics (merely because there was no figure skating on). Instead, I achieved monumental . . . ummm . . . achievements. Yes, you heard me. What in the world?, you are asking. I shall tell, I am replying.

#1) Took my 2008 Christmas cards out of the bread basket on kitchen counter. Sat down at computer and typed a list of who sent those cards. This is not bad, those cards have only been hiding under the bread for a little over a year.

#2) Located the pile of 2009 Christmas cards on the buffet, stuffed under and on top of Jazzi's license that came in the mail, a couple of cookbooks, my new Toyota handbook and, happily, Almased diet leaflets. Sat down and typed a list of who sent those cards. This is good, those cards have only been decorating the buffet for two-ish months.

Being on a mega roll,

#3) Wiped down the vinyl Christmas tablecloth on the dining room table, where all food in this household is consumed, unless I'm watching the Olympics. Folded it up and threw on the Goodwill pile. I am pretty sure whoever trots home with it will not notice the black newspaper ink now permanently incorporated into the green and red and white Christmas design. It adds such a special touch . . . NOT!

#4) Spread plain white cotton tablecloth on table. Looks Super boring. Strikingly boring. Stunningly boring. Sickeningly boring. I will have to have my friend Kathie, the famous seamstress, use her fancy embroidery machine on it, yeah, that's what I'll do. Liven it up. As is, it looks like a casket lining, and not a fancy silky tufted one either.

Before I did all this, I read a sign on a little business that said, Greatness begins and ends with discipline. So, my friends, this is two days in a row of real accomplishment. Now. If I could only multiply such daily gumption by, say, 20, then I'd really be going places.

Also, tonight, I was interested to read on my friend's new blog a big beautiful post about housekeeping. Remember how I begged her to tell all of us how she does it, the perfect house, and clues to all her other moxie. Well, she accommodated, bless her. She recommended visiting FlyLady's website. You know FlyLady tells you how to straighten up your house once and for all. This is 'cause FlyLady herself hit rock bottom when police came to her front door to ask some questions about an accident and, at first sight of the interior of her house, they burst in looking for a burglar. 'Cause only a burglar could have produced such mayhem. But really there was no burglar, there was only FlyLady. She was so embarrassed and sad at the state of her house that she made a vow to get it cleaned up. It took her 9 months of daily diligence, but then she had it done, she likened the process to the 9 months it takes to have a baby. After all that travail, she became more or less an expert on maintaining order and cleanliness.

You ask, How do I know so much about this FlyLady? 'Cause in 2004 I followed FlyLady. I can remember because every year she makes up a rhyme, and that year it was, LESS IS MORE IN 2004. Ain't that great? I'm way ahead of the game . . . 'cept I'm not.

Well, the other morning Mike had the nerve to go into the dryer and retrieve his dress shirts to take to the cleaners. Now that he is a nice executive, he has to dress the part. Well, he mainly goes to the cleaners so he can treat his Jazzi to a ride in the car. Of course, you might be asking, Do you mean to tell me you wash the shirts BEFORE they go to the cleaners? Yes, you heard me. Anyway, it always irritates me BADLY when Mike forges ahead and takes domestic matters into his own hands. I asked him, Did you check the sleeves for socks or underwear? Certainly not, was his impertinent reply. Oh, I was annoyed. So, that was a couple days ago and today when I had time to take the rest of that load out of the dryer, sure enough, guess what? One of my very nice dress socks is MIA. It is just the kind of slinky sock material to statically stick inside a dress shirt's long sleeve. I have worn this pair of socks, like, twice in my life. Now it's reduced to a couple of strays. Wonder what other little pretties are in the dry cleaner's barrel of waste about right now. I hope Mike learns his lesson when he reads this.

Of course, he would say, If you kept up with things, I wouldn't have to take matters into my own hands. So, I am now keeping up with things. But I'm peeved just the same and he'd better not try any more of his shady little tricks again.

So, my friend's blog was very timely, she has excellent tips and you can read them at
http://www.twohh.blogspot.com/ I told her, I am a perfectionist, just not in the traditional sense. Don't ask.

Now, if I can only transfer the tower of boxes holding the Christmas ornaments from our bedroom (I mean from the Christmas tree, they made it to the bedroom) to the high shelf in the closet, we can officially close out Christmas 2009. This will require dusting the shelf, which is what has stopped me dead in my tracks thus long. Thank you.

Mental Kase KEM

Friedrich Engels says, An ounce of action is worth a ton of theory. I am so glad I cleaned 15.67 kitchen tiles worth of grout today, which is about 1/3 of my kitchen. Whew! Otherwise, I would have felt like a flat little worm when I read that quote on Facebook tonight.

On to lighter subjects, namely ice skating, what else? My favorite parts tonight:

The dad of the girl skating for Turkey. These people gave up EVERYTHING to see to their daughter's skating career. She's not the best in the competition, but there she is, in the Olympics for the second time. And this is the first time her parents are in the audience, thanks to a sponsor. But his sweet smiling joy is what captured my heart. He looked like the dearest teddy bear in the whole wide world, simply bursting with pride. How can I meet him?

The USA skater whose parents work like dogs in their restaurant, the mother even wearing clothes with holes, to provide for their daughter's skating dreams. And she is marvelous, dainty.

The Canadian skater whose mother just died two days ago, no warning. A perfect performance and then weeping as she lifted her eyes Heavenward.

Love the commercial where the little girl says to her teacher, Mr. _____, something is wrong with Scooter (the rabbit). Very clever commercial.

And the most hysterical thing yet, aside from the adorable Mary Carillo (sp) news lady, I just am crazy about her. But tonight did you see the clip from when the USA skater Rachel Flatt was only three years old? She was in her little pale pink tutu skating suit and had a short white blond bob with bangs. All chub. Before starting her performance (or this was part of the performance, no doubt) she flipped up the back of her skirt. I mean, the skirt was so short her little pale pink pants showed anyway, but that little flip sent me over the edge. Then she started her spiral and tapped with her skates on the ice to the music. Only the cutest thing ever. She looked like Shirley Temple On Skates. She's got . . . PERSONALITY.

Unfortunately, I have been on a Karb Kick for, oh, I don't know . . . ever. This is thanks to starting to take long walks. Jazzi seems heavier, too. And the point is??? I made real homemade hamburgers tonight, none of those frozen flat gray discs. Ate 1.5 of them. Tomorrow night is CDW'S mother's husband's cousin's Tetrazzini. The cousin is named Esther Easterday and her husband was only the White House physician for President Nixon. Well, Esther Easterday, reminded me of how once we bought a house from a lady named Esther. She told me that a friend tried to set her up with a date, but his last name was Easter. So, she refused because she wanted to eliminate all chances of ever becoming Esther Easter. I think that's too bad, why throw out the baby with the bath water? I would never have turned down a date based on name alone, I would be too curious. Unless, of course, that name was Roach. Roach is simply unforgivable. Well, leave it to CDW to give me this great story, two Esther Easter(day)'s, who could have made THAT up? Not KEM. I wish I had known this story and could have told my Esther way back then. But, she had already married someone not named Easter, so, that is the end of that.

ACTION KEM

Canada is going ape on us. Winning the gold medal in ice dancing. Well, they deserved it, that program tonight has rendered me speechless. It was ethereal. There, that's the word.

And what was with Canada never before winning a gold medal on home turf? They can forget that was ever a problem, they're raking in gold medals lately like all the other competitors packed up and went home. Well, I exaggerate, but I am happy for our lovely neighbors to the north.

Can you believe where all these top ice dancing pairs train? In Michigan? Of course we can believe it, Michigan is the tops. I still love Davis and White, what won the medal was the choreography, I think. The Canadians were just a touch more fluid, not to mention white and black outfits with their dark hair, just right, but USA close on their heels. Too bad the Russians were not in top health, he wasn't, but their costumes alone should have disqualified them. Yep, I said it. And dear, darling Belbin and Agosto, they get the gold medal for classy 4th place finish speeches, bless their baby hearts. They need to get married, what is wrong with them, they don't even go together. How could you train with each other for upteen millions of years, day in and day out, and be best friends, never a cross word, and then try to find someone else to marry. Give it up already. Of course, the Canadian is very affectionate with his partner, they might be in love, at least. Let's hope so.

Those Canadians are mere babies, how can they be so accomplished, how will they get any better? Where can they go, they are all ready here?

Okay, enough rattles tonight.

Wannabe ice dancer KEM

Last night I failed to mention that before The Crime Lady hands out a Beggin' Strip she ALWAYS asks, Is it okay for Jazzi to have a Beggin' Strip? She asks so sweetly and hopefully and demurely (that's right, Scary Crime Lady can be demure) that I don't say, No, of course I would not contaminate my Lil' Jazz' intestines with only God knows what ingredients. Instead, I say, Well, how nice, thank you very much. I'm such a WIIIIIIIIMP!!!

Tonight I was most interested in the Original Dance. That Indian number Davis and White shimmy to is a show-stopper. But the Canadians, whoa, they are the best, too. This is awful, two equally best teams, who also, they say, are best friends. I'm dreadfully afraid that Tanith Belbin and Ben Agosto are going to be left frozen on the ice. They're good, but maybe past their prime. No, I know what it is. They have awful costumes, IMHO. Really, they are WAY overdone and totally too schmancy and, quite frankly, ugly and in the way of the performance. Yes, the outfits have so distracted the judges that the judges simply slap down any old score in the end, one not fitting to the talent buried under brass buttons and braids to beat the band. Notice, please. Davis and White and the Canadians had LOVERLY costumes, yummy costumes. Beautiful, classy, simple, elegant. WHAT IS WRONG with Belbin and Agosto, they are blowing it big time, they should have called me in for consultation.

Let's not even discuss the Russian's excuse for an outfit. Whoa, my sister and I were texting and we were hardly flattering nor Christian in our expert assessment. As bad as Tanith and Ben's outfits were, they looked exquisite next to the freaky Aboriginal interpretation. And to think they toned it down because of the outcry.

I was supposed to be under the covers one hour and 36 minutes ago.

But I got depressed. A friend on Facebook is starting a blog. Her idea is to save money and help the rest of the world save money, too. It's a walk in the park for her to go to the drugstore and walk out swinging a sack of things worth $47.23. Except she only spent $4.67 on it. Dadgum.

So, I checked out her brand new blog. She's going to include other things on the blog, too, besides shopping, because she is constantly researching on the computer. You know, things like housekeeping, cooking, marriage, Christianity, raising children (she has two very small boys), decorating, creative writing, budgeting, couponing, fashion, diet, exercise, beauty, inspiration, entertainment, education, social networking, making money at home, organization. In other words, YOU NAME IT. Tell me, how does one woman have time to do all that? Just reading all that would leave me bereft of time to do any of it.

Okay, I'm still trying to figure out how to put two good days together. I wrote her immediately asking for her to start with a tutorial on time management for turkeys like, you know, KEM. I've seen her house and it blew my brains out, which mussied her house, dadgum. Just another marvelous woman in the world. Her blog is going to wind up real fancy, I can tell, in just four days she has posted all kinds of info and go-to sites and even a recipe. She is admittedly obsessive/compulsive. Once I took DTD'S unwanted American Girl dolls for this gal to e-Bay for me. She loves looking up prices and doing it just right. 'Cept her husband said she couldn't do it after all, he needed her to do other things. So, that was a crush, I worked hard throwing those dolls and accessories into bags and hauling them over to her house. I had to go pick them up and take them to the Santa House, for underprivileged little children.

Gots to go.

KEM, Flatter than EVER! That's right, after I scanned Pioneer Woman's website, I told CDW, I am now a KEMskin rug, flat as all get out. Because I feel so deflated reading how fabulous the rest of the world is. CDW feels the same way. She's really wonderful, but she doesn't think she is. Anyway, when she pretends to be a dud, it makes me feel better. I SO love CDW.