Wall Street, Here We Come!

Today is a history-making day. Today, we bought our very first stock, funded soley on earnings from our other holdings. This is significant. It means that our little money-making machines have made enough money to birth their very own money-making machine, with no deposit from us.

We’d hoped this would happen. We dreamed about it. It means that maybe we have figured out a winning strategy.

I am very proud of us and I’m going to shamelessly brag for a moment. If you don’t wish to hear, then I would suggest that you stop reading. Now.

Since we purchased our first holdings in March, we have averaged 32% returns. What does that mean? That means that for every $1,000 we have invested, we have made $320. It doesn’t sound like much at first. But imagine that you have $5,000. Your profit for the year would then be $1,600 (or $133/month). Add that $1,600 to your original $5,000, and you have $6,600. That $6,600 can now make you $2,112 (or $176/month). Now you have a grand total of $8,712. Keep this train going, and if you average 32% annual returns for 25 years, your initial $5,000 will grow into over 5 MILLION DOLLARS. Imagine now how much you could have if you added even just $100 of your own money every month to your original $5,000!

Our pie-in-the-sky goal is to average 40% annual returns, with the more realistic dream of coming in a little over 20% annually. We do this by carefully selecting under-valued stocks and investing the exact same amount into each stock. It makes it easier to monitor this way. We also keep a “buffer” amount available for each stock, so we can buy more if the stock dips by a certain percentage. This tactic is known as “dollar cost averaging” and it brings down your cost of the stock, so it’s not such a steep climb back up. It also prevents us from losing 100% of our investment money, should something catastrophic happen, like a bankruptcy. We have rules that help us avoid this scenario, too. The nice thing about dollar cost averaging is that we have stopped panicking when a stock drops.

Our goal for each stock is to sell when it hits 40% returns. We give each stock 90 days in which to achieve this goal. If at the end of 90 days, the stock is down, or it has not gained more than 10%, then we hold onto it and re-set the 90 day window. More often than not, our stocks have been hitting 40% within 60 days of purchase. We felt it important to put a cap on our returns, so we don’t sit too long at the poker table and lose our winnings before we realize them (I had a tendancy to want to wait and see how high it could go. Bad idea.).

Then, we take our original amount we invested and use it to purchase a new stock. The proceeds from the sale go into a holding account, where they sit until we have turned enough profit to buy a new stock. This is how we started out with 6 money-making machines, and now, today, we have 7. I am happy to announce that we are in the TOP 20% of the Motley Fool CAPS players. Yeah, baby, we are All Stars! We are beating over 7,000 other players, by using our strategy. In addition, we are beating the market.

And the best part? All it takes is a little bit of research and daily monitoring. No second job required, no business degree mandatory. No commission to a Wall Street broker. No one deciding what is best for your money (granted, all the sucess and all the failure can now be pinned on you – are you up for the challenge?). And, if we wanted, we don’t ever have to put in another dime of our own, hard-earned money. Success, however, is the best motivator of all, because now I’m itching to add to the pile.

Okay, shameless bragging session is over.

Random Thoughts

My manager paid me a high compliment yesterday. She said if a posting comes up, she hopes I would apply for it. You can't get much better than that. I have another year left on my contract and I'm hoping I'll get flipped.

Never work for a Command Sergeant Major when you are a normally sensitive person. I had a "come-to-Jesus" talk with him about his behavior towards me since he's come back from military leave. Luckily, I didn't get fired. Instead I got praised for the size of my balls. That was the last thing I expected.

Stefan and I and Dave and Sam are going to the State Fair this Sunday. The girls are really excited about going on the Ferris Wheel. Hello romance!!

We're hanging out Friday evening with Brett, and then hanging out with John, Michelle and Eryk on Saturday. Michelle and Eryk are in the process of selling their house. I wish them much luck - much more than we had!

Stefan and I are kicking around the idea of getting a gun permit. There's a shooting range down in Colonial Heights, and Cubby isn't turning into the kind of watchdog we were initially hoping for. He's great for drowning small animals with his saliva, but I don't think that will work very well against burglars. Actually, he's asleep right now - the perfect time to spend quality time with the big, slobbery polar bear.

The End of Summer

Well, summer is over according to the calendar, but the weather is still warm. There's not a whole lot of new stuff to report, but here's a little something...

Cubby is now larger than Yoda in height and length, but not in weight. He's still pretty skinny, yet his paws are noticeably larger than Yoda's. He's turning into a good dog. He is curious and mostly obedient, and has calmed down quite a bit since we decided to keep Yoda and Cubby outside at night. Perry's crush on Cubby has subsequently cooled off, as well.

Stefan and I had the opportunity to go to a prom this past weekend for people who missed theirs in high school. That was a lot of fun. We have often said to one another that we wished we'd met each other earlier in life. If we had, we would have gone to Prom together. Stefan looked so handsome in his tuxedo and we took a bunch of pictures. We got a photo taken for $5 (just like at a real prom), but the photo is pretty terrible. Bad lighting. We look orange, and it's out of focus. I kind of wish we could have given the digital camera to someone else so they could have taken a couple of photos of us together. Oh, well.

I'm in the process of organizing all our digital photos so I can start scrap-booking, now that football is starting up. Go Pats!

The State Fair is coming up in a few weeks. I'm looking forward to going to the fair with my hunny and eating fried dough and going on the ferris wheel. I hope we get stuck at the top. I'm such a sap for all those little romantic moments.

Well, that's all for now.

Corporate Musings (aka Holly has too much time on her hands)

It always amazes me when I hear of companies who are looking for candidates, and they describe themselves as a “fast-paced environment.” Every company I’ve ever worked for who has made this claim seems to move at a snail’s pace. If a snail can out-run a fast-paced environment, what would it be like to work in a slow-paced environment? I am beginning to think that the pace of the environment relies heavily upon the employees, and what state of mental zombiness they are in. The older we get, the more likely we are to be mental zombies for longer periods of time. Our problems get more complex, and we get tired. We can’t binge-drink for two days and roll out of bed first thing Monday morning. Even if we could manage to get out of bed, we can’t afford to binge-drink anymore. We have to save our paycheck so we can pay the mortgage.

We all have moments where we are mental zombies. No one is immune. You can always tell, too, who is currently a mental zombie. He’s the guy you pass in the hall who has a 2-day shadow when normally he’s clean-shaven. Or she’s the woman wearing drab clothing with bags under her eyes because she didn’t bother putting on her make-up that morning. It makes me wonder what is going on in their personal lives. I try to avoid these scenarios by taking mental health days when I don’t feel up to dragging myself in to work. I wouldn’t get much accomplished anyhow.

We always try to deny our personal selves when we work in a corporate environment, but how, exactly, is one supposed to do that? How does one function when something is going awry in the life that takes place outside the office? In order to keep up the “fast-paced environment,” we are asked to leave our problems at home. Problems such as wondering when the doctor will call with the test results, or worrying about Billy’s sudden erratic behavior at school, or thinking of how we drank til we passed out the night before, the horrible, yet more-common-than-we’d-like-to-admit fight with our spouse, lustful thoughts towards a co-worker, feeling depressed and not able to find the right mix of medications and therapy, a sudden death or illness in the family, financial woes, divorce threats. The list goes on and on and on.

Work is a funny place. We exchange the usual pleasantries, “Hi, how are you? What’d you do this weekend?” And the answer is always, “I’m good, how are you? My weekend was good. I got caught up on the yardwork.” We never hear the truth, which would be more like, “I’m functioning. This weekened sucked. I got into a fight with the wife again about the same old subjects: no sex, no money, kids out of control, and she pissed me off so bad, I couldn’t see straight, so I went out and mowed the lawn, killed the weeds, and cut the shrubs back too short. That got her going again, and instead of hitting her, I kicked the dog. Then I had to take it to the vet. I’m thinking about getting a divorce.” Or maybe the answer would be, “Wow, I feel great! I’m tired, but it’s that good kind of tired. The yard looks like shit, because I’m so far behind on the lawn. I’m sure the neighbor hates us. The wife and I decided to check out this swinger’s club and it made us so hot for each other, we spent the rest of the weekend in bed together. You really ought to try it. You won’t be able to keep your hands off each other for a month!”

The truth is, we don’t really want to know that much about the person who occupies the cube next to us.

And the Emmy Goes to....

Me.

Yup, me.

Seriously, though, I’m just going to pick on actors and actresses for a moment, and the whole entertainment industry as a whole.

You see, I have not watched television in I can’t even remember when. Here we are, with this big, beautiful plasma tv on the living room wall going to waste (thank you, Stefan for putting it up while I was at work to surprise me, even though it’s at least a 2-person job. You truly deserve an Emmy.). We have been so frickin’ busy to even watch our tivo-recorded shows. In fact, in a rare moment of downtime last night, I tried to watch an episode of House that was recorded back on June 27. The idea that we are two months’ behind on all our favorite shows is daunting. I only got about 10 minutes into the House episode before I got bored.

Bored watching television. This is a new concept, indeed. I can’t remember when the last time life was so exciting, that watching television actually bored me! I realize I might sound like I’m gloating, but I don’t mean to be. I am just surprised.

Just like I would be surprised if a big televised event occurred where I won an award for “best written user’s manual.” I mean, isn’t my job important, too? Oh, that’s right. Nobody would be interested in that. It would be, well...boring. True, I’m not entertaining the masses, but if it weren’t for people like me, people like us wouldn’t know how to run the blender or interpret the blinking signal in the airplane cockpit. Does two fast blinks mean engine failure, or is that three fast blinks? I don’t remember. Lemee see the manual....

But don’t you feel just a little bit gyyped that you don’t get awards for doing your work? Wouldn’t you love to get all dolled-up and go out to a fancy, all-expenses paid extravanganza and be pampered from head to toe because of your amazing networking skills? Or your ability to feed the dog, make dinner, and change a baby’s diaper all at the same time? Or for showing up to work on time everyday, despite the fact that everything in your personal life is taking a nose-dive down a clogged toilet? It amazes me sometimes that we even function at all. We’re expected to plow forward, personal life be-damned, and put on a pleasant face and attitude for our co-workers. If not, we’ll get canned.

And then there’s the entertainment industry, where people are waited on hand and foot, and someone makes sure there are no green M&M’s in the bowl, which must be a specific sized bowl and color, and 12 dozen peach-scented roses waiting in the green-room for your 5-minute walk-on. Only in the entertainment idustry can you get to work late, trashed, strung-out, drunk, hysterical, and treat those around you like a fungus-infected foot bath, and then you get....gasp! An AWARD.

I know, I know. I’m making blanket statements. I’m sure it takes a lot of hard work to become recognized, and not everyone is as I just described. And I’m really not as cynical as I sound. I just think award ceremonies are getting a bit ridiculous.

Owning a Pool is a Lot of Work

Owning a pool is a lot of work!

This is what people typically tell us when we tell them we have a pool. At first, I thought that what they really meant by that was, "You lucky bastards. I hate you!"

Sadly, I was mistaken.

Owning a pool is a lot of work.

We were pretty excited when we first got the pool, often going in when the air temperature was 80, and the water temperature was in the upper 60s. Unfortunately, as the days get hotter, the water actually feels better when it warms up. Ideally, to 84 degrees. I think we saw 84 degrees but once this summer. When we erected the pool, we hadn't considered the location of the trees in the wetlands, and the pool only gets direct sunlight for a few brief hours in the morning. Then the sun rises and the trees shade the pool, thus depriving it of its life-giving sunlight. Skinny-dipping is no fun when you're shivering.

Before we realized this, however, we switched from chlorine to baquacil. The reason for this was I was about to get another perm, and I wanted to maintain it to some degree over the summer without totally over-drying and destroying my hair. The chemical switch cost around $600. And the pool stank. I mean it stank like algae, although there was none, because the pool never got warm enough to encourage algae to grow. Also, sucking in baquacil-infested water is one of the nastiest things a person could ever encounter. I wish someone had warned us of this, but who's going to warn us when they're about to make a sweet commission off a $600 sale?

The quality of pool products in comparison to their price, upkeep, and lack of product review is astounding. I could go on and on about this, but I'll save it for another post. I can't help but give an example, though. Imagine you've just spent 5 grand on a pool. That's a sizeable chunk of change. You expect everything to be pristine. But the ladder is a cheap piece of crap, and in order to weigh down the ladder inside the pool, you are supplied with 2 large ziplock bags (yes, I said ziplock) that you're supposed to fill with 50 pounds of sand each. So you fill the bags and weigh down the ladder, but you're skeptical about how the bags will stay ziplocked. What will happen if they don't stay ziplocked? You dump 100 pounds of sand into your pool, which you must now vacuum out, which clogs the pump and the filter (yet another very expensive bit of equipment which ironically comes with no instructions) and nothing functions right for a week. Don't ask me how I know this. I might growl at you.

Okay, so we resign ourselves to the idea that we will have to buy a pool heater if we're going to get the full enjoyment out of our pool for years to come. We're talking dropping now $2,200 for something we can't find any reviews about to tell us whether the money is worth it or not.

We went up to Richmond today to get a week's worth of baquacil so we can get in the pool and clean it this week before closing it up for the winter. We have a pool store right around the corner from us, and we could go there, had it not been for my previous point: the quality of their products in relation to their inflated prices is mind-boggling. Literally EVERYTHING we've ever bought from them has broken or has been defective. We've had slightly better odds at the pool store in Richmond. So off to Richmond we go.

While at the pool store in Richmond, we see these sun panels that can be attached to the pool, and the idea is that they collect the sun and use it to heat the pool by pushing the heat through the pump. Cost? $365. Hmmmm, we wonder. But does it work? It claims it pushes 80,000 BTUs per day. But we have a lot of trees, and the solar panels might not get enough sun to do any good. On the other hand, if they do work....well we've just saved ourselves a ton of money....but is it worth it to spend $365 to find out? We pass for now.

We pick up the baquacil we need, and the friendly chemical guy says hello and says, oh, you need more baquacil? To which I reply yes, and it's too bad we have to buy more when we're just about ready to close up the pool, because next year, we're switching back to chlorine. At least the water smells disinfected. And he says, "Salt is the way to go. It's really the best thing." and he shows us this $400 piece of equipment which apparently you add salt to it, and the salt goes in the water and creates chlorine. He says it's way cheaper than going with chlorine, because instead of spending tons of money each year on chemicals, you only spend $50 a year on salt. Additionally, this miracle product prevents the damaging effects of chlorinated water on skin, hair and clothing.

I'm skeptical. I ask questions. Does the water smell funky? Is it salty, like sea water? Does it leave a crusty brine around the rim when the water in the pool evaporates, but the salt does not? Like he knows. He doesn't own a pool. Still, the idea is tempting...

It's almost 7:30 now, and Stefan has been in the pool since 3 this afternoon, trying to clean out all the debris from the pine tree that is dropping pine cones, bits of pine cones, and needles into the pool. These things clog up very easily, and the pool is more covered in pine by-products than I initially thought. He's gotten about a quarter of the pool clean so far.

So we decided that before we open the pool next year, we're going to take down this offensive tree. And while we're at it, we're going to take down 3 additional trees, thus leaving only one tree in our backyard, and that one is far away from the pool. We don't want to do this; we have to do this if we are going to have any fun with our pool for the next 20 years or so.

Owning a pool is a lot of work. We have spent more time fussing with the pool this summer than we have enjoying it. I keep reminding myself though, that it's only hard work now. It will get better, as we learn exactly what it means to be pool owners, and then we really will be lucky bastards.

Right? Right?!?!

Perry is the New Ghandi

Okay, so the puppy potty-training has been going well, aside from a massive slip-up earlier this week, when we were getting ready for bed as usual. This requires us rounding up the dogs and making sure they stay upstairs with us while we brush our teeth and change into our night clothes and set the alarm clock. No biggie, right? Riiiiight....

We finish brushing our teeth and Stefan heads into the bedroom where I promptly hear him yell "OH....MY....GOD!!!" I rush in, and see what he is pointing at (words have failed him now) and see a huge wet pee stain right smack in the middle of the bed. Cubby immediately tucks his tail, and makes a bee-line for his crate (his usual punishment). We pull back the comforter and sheets and only by the grace of the powers above has this massive wet stain not soaked through to the mattress, otherwise I'd be writing a different post right now about how we only have 2 dogs instead of 3 (this is a great reason to get into the habit of making your bed everyday, by the way - the layers of sheets saved us).

I'm really tired and really pissed, so I mentioned I thought Cubby did not deserve to sleep in the house tonight. We should put him in the pen outside in the back yard. Stefan agrees - his usual punishment just doesn't fit this crime. So I drag Cubby out of his crate and proceed to carry him downstairs and outside and I lock him in the pen.

Now, Cubby isn't your normal puppy. He doesn't whine or howl. He screams. And when he screams, he sounds like a goose being mercilessly chased by an ax murderer. You know how most animals and children, if given enough time, will settle down into their punishment and accept their fate and usually stop crying and fall asleep? Yeah, Cubby's not like that, either. He screamed and honked ALL NIGHT LONG. Want to know how I know? I am the world's lightest sleeper. I was ready to either bring him back into the house (which I didn't dare do, because he'd only learn that if he is persistent long enough, I will cave to his demands), or go out there and sucker-punch him. I did neither.

As customary, after the alarm went off, we let Perry outside to pee. As I looked out the bathroom window to make sure Cubby hadn't strangled himself, I saw that Cubby had worked a pretty sizeable hole in the side of the pen, where he could fit his head and shoulders through. Perry rushed out to see his brother, and next thing I knew, Perry had crawled through the hole in the pen to keep Cubby company. Then he sat down and stared back at us, as though staging his very own sit-in.

We ate breakfast, and Perry's passive resistance campaign continued. He sat stone still, never moving from his spot, never taking his eyes off the back door, ears cocked straight forward. We knew he was campaigning for the release of his brother. So we caved.

I think maybe Perry was Ghandi in a past life.

Dave and Sam's Wedding

Dave and Sam got married yesterday at Pocohontas State Park. The weather was stunning for August - a nice, balmy 80 degrees, with low humidity and just a few fluffy clouds.

Dave wore a traditional black suit, with a black button-down shirt and a snappy red tie. Sam wore an exsquisite red dress. All eyes were on her. She looked absolutely breath-taking!

The ceremony was performed by a close friend, and she kept the ceremony in proportion to the beautiful outdoor setting - simple, natural, and sweet. Another friend blessed the couple before and after the vow exchange.

Everyone enjoyed themselves. I'm truly happy for Sam and Dave. It's wonderful to witness the joy of friends in love. After enjoying a cook-out, us younger folks went back to Sam and Dave's for the adult reception (alchohol is not permitted within the park), where several folks gave toasts, Stefan included. We broke out the wine and the houkkah (did I spell that right?), and from there, things got wild. We're all a little "delicate" today. LOL

Congratulations again to Dave and Sam. You guys are so much fun to hang out with, and I'm so happy for you both. Here's to a long, happy marriage, and a long, happy friendship!

Random Stuff

So the other women I work with think I'm dumb. Obviously, it goes against their laws to be beautiful AND smart. So they load this software onto my PC, and give me an outdated manual to read, along with a dummy database. The software is nothing more than a database, which displays and cross-references all kinds of information. You can customize it to your heart's content, so it's almost pointless to read the manual. I'm not going to be customizing it. They just want to use me as a back-up to schedule training classes. Oooooh, soooooo hard! A database is a database is a database.

I digress.

So I'm playing around in the dummy database, and add a note to an employee record. I discover a MAJOR flaw: the date/time stamp can be modified! As can the "username" of the person who wrote the note. So I write this note, and maybe someday, somebody will read it:

08/03/2001 2:22 PM (disgruntled co-worker):

This employee is on the verge of being fired. He is consistently late to work, he dresses like a slob, and he smells like mothballs. Not to mention he is always sucking on hard candy, all day long. His habit of putting everyone on speakerphone, including his voicemail messages, drives everyone around him crazy. He also clips his nails at his desk, and it grosses people out. Nobody wants to hear about the latest development in his toe fungus battle. This is just one example of his lack of boundaries when he interacts with collegues and co-workers. He has recently taken to caring for a kernel of popcorn he found under his desk. He "rescued" it and taped it to his monitor. He named it Maud, and when someone visits him at his cube, he insists that they also say hello to Maud.

I've been a good girl this week. I got up everyday and swam in the pool for half an hour. That, along with Body for Life, has resulted in me losing about 2 pounds this week. Stefan found this website that had several more recipe books that follow BFL, so we got those. It even has a restaurant guide to what can be ordered that follows BFL (mind your portion sizes, of course), and this will come in handy if we ever get in a pinch.

Stefan's been writing like a fiend. We found a local coffeeshop, and he's made fast friends there. It's been great. He has more outside accountability, and since he is a social creature, he is feeding his need to be around other people. I'm really happy for him!

Our lovely neighbors have decided to cut down all the trees in their back yard. They found an after-hours contractor (aka. unlicensed guy who has a day job) to come in with a bobcat and demolition all the beautiful trees which gave us a sense of privacy. We're pretty steamed about this. Considering calling the Army Corp of Engineers, because I believe all the trees they tore down were in federally protected wetlands. We'll see....not sure of how much of a war we want to get into with them, and we want to see what they plan on doing with the land. It will affect our future plans as well. Thank goodness we own a lot of land on the other side of us and it's all federally protected wetlands, so nobody can clear that, too! So much for living in the country! Now we get to listen to the screaming trees as they are being uprooted.

On the flipside, the cutest thing I saw today was our little Perry leaping through the grass, chasing a butterfly. That's when I remember why it's so great to live out here. Our boys are happy.

Big weekend coming up. Stefan wants to spend tonight kicking my butt playing Magic. Tomorrow has turned into a crazy day, with an impromptu bbq at a friend's house, followed up by a girls' night out. One of the girls' husband has decided to banish her from their house on his poker nights. Whatever. Us girls are going out to get pedicures and then to the Melting Pot. I've only been there once, and it's to die for! It is one of my favorite dates with Stefan. We got all dressed up and went there for Valentine's Day. They took our picture, which is now the picture of me he has on his chest. Awwwww....bring out your romance puke-bags! LOL

Sunday we are spending with Sam and Dave. Only 1 week, guys until the Big Day!!!

Facing the Twilight

Once again, I had too much time on my hands at work so I ended up thinking....

Credit and health go hand-in-hand. The rules that govern revolving credit also govern our ultimate health. As most of us are overweight and out of shape, so is our credit. But, if we apply good practices in spending and in our lifestyle, both our credit and health will improve.

We all need to establish credit in order to survive in our society. We cannot do many things without credit. One of the first things we set about doing as young people is establish credit. But we all know youth is wasted on the young, so we use our credit card to buy us things NOW, and we promise ourselves we’ll pay it back later. It’s okay, though, we tell ourselves. We are young and strong and we can easily bounce back. There is plenty of time.

We all know we should eat in a healthy manner and maintain some sort of exercise. But we’re in shape, we’re young, we look good, and our metabolism has never let us down. So we indulge and tell ourselves that we’ll start eating right and exercising when the scale begins going up. It won’t be difficult, we tell ourselves. Those extra few pounds will mean we just don’t eat as much cake, and they’ll go away.

In the beginning, everything is okay. But then, life happens. Job changes. Marriage. Kids. Moving. Bills. Divorce. Unexpected expenses. Before we know it, the sun that once shone so brightly down on us is creeping over into the western hemisphere. The time for us to fulfill our promises comes and goes.

We start making minimum payments on our credit card debt. We make small, half-hearted attempts to eat better. We join a gym with the best of intentions. But the damage has already been done. Once we realize our balance is uncomfortably high, it is too late. The accruing interest on our debt practically keeps us where we are and we realize we can’t make the headway we thought we could. Our metabolism slows down. Our new, healthier eating habits and spurts at the gym are not enough to overcome our expanding waistline. Our willpower is weak. We are in denial. We know we should not use our credit card until the balance is paid down, but resistance is futile. We know that the Oreo cookie will cost us 30 minutes on a treadmill, but we don’t want to believe the cost is that high.

A few years pass like this. We’re not ready to admit our initial assumptions were wrong. If only we could hire a financial analyst or a personal trainer. But we don’t. We just tread water.

The spark of youth is visibly diminishing. We notice we don’t have the fire that our younger counterparts do. Instead, we struggle in a mire of debt and we mourn the death of our high metabolism. We still aren’t ready to do anything about it except whine.

Then, some of us will start being hit with late fees. The doctor tells us our cholesterol levels are high. With the late fees, our interest rate spikes. Now our minimum payments aren’t enough, but we can’t afford any more. Then the over limit fees begin. More serious health consequences loom in front of us if we don’t get a handle on things right away. Diabetes. Clogged arteries. Stroke. Heart attack. Early death.

Some us will heed the call and make the drastic changes necessary to get ourselves on track financially and physically. It will be the hardest thing we have ever done. Others of us will wither and file bankruptcy, both financial and emotional. Sometimes the bankruptcy is enough of a wake-up call, and those will become better because of it. But some of us will give up entirely. Nevertheless, we never know how we’re going to react until we face our own twilight.

Another Week Gone

So we've had another great week on Body for Life. I am going to try and get up half an hour early every morning and go swimming. I'm feeling the need for some exercise in my life.

Stefan and I stumbled across a local coffee shop in Colonial Heights called Castaways. They offer free Internet access to their customers, so they should be able to withstand the Starbucks that is being built a few blocks from them. It was pretty cool, and it will offer Stefan a place to go to write where he'll be more surrounded by people who aren't hairy and growling or barking all the time.

It was a great weekend for the pool. Lots of sunshine and heat. This summer has been unusually humid and cloudy and not so warm. We went to a party Saturday night. I met up with someone from my former life at the party and it went well. I might rediscover some old friends. Divorce does funny things. Lines are drawn and loyalties with friends get split.

Sam and Dave are getting married in a couple of weeks. Congratulations! We have plans with them next weekend - their last weekend as a single couple. Hopefully the weather will hold.

I went through the phone book to find things to do around here. We missed the Watermelon festival last weekend. I wasn't aware of it being last weekend. I'm trying to find us things to do, so we can ingratiate ourselves into our new community. Petersburg is heavy into the civil war. Lots of museums and re-enactments, which I suppose is great for all those civil war buffs. Richmond definitely has more to offer as far as diversified activities, but it's a long drive.

I suppose no news like this is good news!

Why the IRS is a Dirty Word

Taxes! That single word may have sent a shiver up your spine, or caused you to groan. It seems the government is always out to take all of your hard-earned money. You’re half-way right. But it’s not the government who wants your money. It’s the IRS.

You see, the IRS has found a multitude of ways to take your money, without you even realizing it. It has even convinced businesses and banks to push their schemes on an un-assuming America. The IRS wants your money, and they trick people into giving them their hard-earned money by slinging around the term “tax-free.” More than likely, if you fall for this, the IRS will get something from you, so the taxes you did not pay make it a wash.

Who wants to pay more taxes? Everyone hates paying taxes. So, when something is being advertised as tax-free, people get way too excited. This is how the IRS sets the trap and then they sit back, crack their knuckles, and watch with excitement as millions of people take the bait.

How do they do it? You ask. It’s simple enough, really. The IRS lures folks in by offering tax-free retirement investments.

The IRS came up with several retirement savings accounts under the guise that they are helping Americans save for their Golden Years. There are 401(k)s and IRAs. I am sure there are more, but these serve as examples. They are pushed in nearly every company, and every financial magazine and bank across America. All of them are disguised as vehicles for saving. Here is how they work:

What is a 401(k)? This is a nifty little option available to most employees of major companies. You invest money into your 401(k) and if you’re lucky, your employer will match your investments. These investments are tax-free or tax-deferred. Either way, the IRS takes your money, and invests it into different funds, in the hopes of making money supposedly on your behalf. When you reach a certain age, you are then entitled to your investment and the earnings on your investment – get this – tax-free or tax-deferred. However, if you withdraw that money before retirement age, guess what? You pay a penalty. That’s right. You pay money to the IRS if you choose to access your hard-earned money before the IRS wants you to. Even worse, if the IRS does a poor job investing your money, you may actually LOSE what you’ve paid in.

Okay, so that kind of sucks. Well, then, how about an IRA? An IRA is an Individual Retirement Account. This is a great option if you want to give your money to the IRS, but your company doesn’t offer a 401(k). Basically, an IRA works like this: you put your money in, and when the IRS decides you are old enough, you get your money back. Again, the amount you get back depends on if the IRS did a good job and made lots of interest off your money, and like the 401(k), the IRA is riddled with many rules and stipulations, and heavy penalty fees if you decide you need your money back before you are old enough to retire.

Now, it is hard enough to commit your hard-earned money to a Certificate of Deposit or a government bond. Your money is locked up tight for a period as little as one year. If you withdraw early, you subsequently pay a penalty. However, you are guaranteed to get your money back, plus a little bit of interest, but geez, there’s always some emergency that might come up that will keep you from investing your money here. You never know when you may need that money.

Take that idea a step further. Lock your money up until you hit age 65. Tell me you’ll never need to tap that resource. It’s near impossible. So you tap your 401(k) or your IRA. Whammo! You took the bait out of the trap the IRS has set. You’ll pay penalties and even possibly taxes, all because you needed a little bit of money early. The penalty you pay may even be more than any earnings on your money. And to make things worse, you may even have to pay back the money you borrowed from yourself at a time and amount that is not comfortable for you.

This is how the IRS tricks you into willingly giving them money. If it’s advertised as tax-free, you can be guaranteed there are heavy penalties and mind-bending rules to make up for it.

Even though individual investing is discouraged at every turn (mostly because earnings are taxed), I would personally prefer to invest my money myself, and manage it and grow it myself, and (gasp!), pay taxes on the earnings. You don’t hear Donald Trump or Warren Buffet whining about paying taxes on their earnings. Why? Because the bottom line is, you will never pay more taxes than what you have earned. Period. If you invest on your own, you will pay taxes on your earnings, but not so much taxes that you will not make any money at all. You will still come out ahead, and odds are, you’ll make a ton more money simply because you’re putting your retirement solely in your own hands, which will force you to become a prudent spender and a wise investor. Plus, if you have an emergency, you can access your money with no penalty. You don’t need to put yourself in a bind if you can’t pay yourself back right away, either.

Anytime something is being advertised as “tax-free,” you can bet that the IRS is behind it. And that, my friends, is why the IRS is a dirty word.

Review of the Tempur-Pedic Mattress

We've had our Tempur-Pedic mattress for several months now, so I figure it's time for a review of it. I had heard stories from my chiropractor that the Tempur-Pedics are comfortable for a short while, and then they don't feel so great, namely because it's so comfortable, you tend to not move in your sleep, and then your blood pools.

I have not found this to be the case.

We bought the CelebrityBed, which, at the time, was the most expensive bed Tempur-Pedic offered. Recently, Tempur-Pedic came out with the GrandBed, which tops the CelebrityBed, but I can't imagine how they improved on perfection.

We didn't intend to buy the Rolls Royce of beds, but a streak of fortune came our way. After Stefan's house sold, we'd planned on getting a Tempur-Pedic, and we figured we'd get the DeluxeBed. It was within our budget. When we went shopping, however, we came across a mom-and-pop store that was selling their floor-model CelebrityBed for cheaper than the cost of a DeluxeBed. SOLD!

For the first couple of weeks, the bed felt awkward. It wasn't bouncy or springy, or even all that soft feeling. We wondered if we'd made a mistake. Then we got used to it, and now it is oh, so comfortable. In fact, if this bed has a vice, it would be that it is, in fact, too comfortable. I had to move the alarm clock to the other side of the room. Otherwise, hitting snooze five times in a row was in the realm of possibility. And on weekends, we snooze and snooze and snooze without the alarm waaaay later than we intend. What we believe is causing this problem is that Stefan is a litle radiator, and this bed craves heat. When it gets warm, it gets all nice and soft, like a piece of caramel. Stefan produces enough heat to raise the temperature of the bed to a nice, embryonic state, and therefore, sleep is the natural result. We haven't tested this theory yet, but we will - soon. Once we convince ourselves that it is a real problem!

It is especially great for anyone who suffers from back problems. There is no uncomfortable position when sleeping on this bed, as it truly does balance out the body. I remember lying in bed, and then quickly getting up to see if I was even making a dent on the cushion. There was a dent, of course, but when lying on it, you feel as if you weigh nothing at all. And it's all true about movement displacement. There is none. We tested this by taking flying leaps onto the bed while the other person lay still. No movement was transferred. We did other things to test it, but I can't mention them here. Let me just say if you're worried about that, don't be - the bed passed with flying colors.

Finding sheets to fit the mattress is a bit of a challenge. While it claims to be able to take 14" deep fitted sheets, it doesn't really. The corner pops off on my side of the bed. I think it's the way I roll; the sheet clings to the mattress and gets dislodged when I roll over. It never happens on Stefan's side. The best-fitting sheets are the ones that are 18" deep, and when shopping at Wal-mart, this greatly limits our options.

That's all I can think of for bad things about the bed. The good far outweighs any negatives, so if you are thinking of taking the plunge and splurging on a new bed, I would highly recommend the Tempur-Pedic.

The Time-Money Balance

This is something I jotted down yesterday afternoon at work. These are the musings that go on in my brain sometimes....

Time and money are very similar. We all wish we had more. We struggle to manage them, and try to make the most of what we do have.

But the one big difference between time and money is that there is a limited supply of time. You cannot borrow time. You cannot make more time than what you are given, and the amount you are given is unknown. No matter how hard you work, you will never make more time.

Yet, time is married to money. The better we manage one, the more likely we are to better manage the other. The more time we have, the more chances we have to make more money. Since time is a finite thing, we must remember that if we spend all our time earning money, we will find we have run out of time. And what is time without money? It is a prison sentence! What is money without time? A bitter irony!

The invention of money was the greatest, most life-changing, most dramatic invention ever known to mankind. Money assigned value to a great many things. Money spawned every invention ever since the invention of money. Money bought us the illusion of more time.

The time-money balance is the greatest challenge we face. We are born, not having any money, but plenty of time to grow up and develop a desire for money. We work so that we have money, and so that we have time to enjoy life. But if we enjoy our money too much now, with little thought of the future, we will find ourselves near the end of life, with more time than money. Old age is the worst time to worry about money - we have time left, but not enough time to make more money.

The key is to find a way to balance time and money so that neither overwhelms the other. Without this balance, time and money become a curse.

The Story of Cubby and Perry

Perry, our 10 pound Chihuahua/Pomeranian, and Cubby, our 12-week old Husky, are best friends. The only time they are apart is when they are crated. They do everything together - play, eat, poop, sleep, hump...you get the picture.

On Sunday, three days ago, we almost lost our dear Perry (our Perry-poo, Perry-itis, Perry-meister, Little Dude - he has lots of pet names). All due to a stupid accident. Perry and Cubby were playing as usual. More like rough-housing, really. Stefan called both of them to come into the room we were sitting in. They tend to get into trouble when they aren't in sight. That's when Cubby started yelping in his scared puppy way, and from where I was sitting, it looked like Perry had grabbed onto Cubby's collar and wouldn't let go. That was not like our little Perry. He knows when to stop rough-housing, and he never plays so hard as to hurt Cubby. So we went out to see what was the matter.

What we saw and what happened next changed our lives forever. Cubby's lower jaw had gotten caught underneath Perry's collar, hence his frantic yelping. He had panicked, and was thrashing about. But even worse, Perry had somehow gotten twisted around, so his collar formed a figure-8, and he was being choked to death. I will never, ever forget my dear Perry's bulging eyes, or how his tongue was sticking out the side of his mouthwhile he rasped for air. He is so little, and Cubby, now who has 10 pounds on Perry, was too strong for our little Perry. Perry was merciless to what was happening to him. Now, Perry was wearing a quick-release collar, but as we struggled with the dogs, we could not find the latch. Things were getting really desperate. Both dogs were completely panicking, and would not stay still for a moment. Perry wet himself, and the fear stench came forth. As Stefan wrestled to turn Perry around, Perry pooped, and then I saw blood dripping onto the kitchen floor.

Stefan started screaming in a way that chilled me to the bone. "Cubby is killing Perry! He's killing Perry!" over and over again, he screamed and he tried to find that stupid collar latch. We were watching our little Perry die before our very eyes, and there was nothing we could do about it. The dogs would not calm down, and Perry was so terribly twisted that Stefan tried to flip him over, to get the figure-8 out of the collar. But Perry, in his panic, kept biting Stefan. I felt completely paralyzed and helpless. Stefan screamed for me to get a knife. I got up and went towards the kitchen counter. I felt like I was moving in slow motion. Before I got there, Stefan called out that he got Perry released. Somehow, he had managed to flip Perry, and as soon as that happened, Cubby's mouth was released under the collar and both dogs were free.

I felt like I was about to collapse. I don't think I've ever experienced that kind of adrenaline rush before, and instantly, I fell from the panic grip I had been in. All the energy drained from my body. I immediately took Perry's collar off him and in short order, we'd removed Cubby's collar and Yoda's collar.

For the next couple of days, I felt on the verge of tears as the vision of the terrible thing I had witnessed kept floating before me. I couldn't get Stefan's voice out of my head. There was such fear and panic in his voice, and it haunted me. I also focused on how close of a call this was. This could have happened when we weren't home, or when we were not close enough to get to them quick enough. Cubby could have broken Perry's neck during his thrash-about. I felt we were doing a good thing - dogs are supposed to wear collars, right? It shows they are loved and cared for if they get lost or loose, and it gives us something to hold onto and control when they get too rowdy. All those good intentions got thrown out the window. Never, will I ever collar my dogs again. I began to get an inkling of how parents must feel when they cry, "I just looked away for a minute!" No one knows when these things will happen, and no one is ever really prepared.

All is well, now. Perry lost a lot of fur around his neck, but it will grow back. He slept almost for the rest of the day, and we were relieved when he finally took a drink of water and ate some food. Cubby and Perry still play like they are best friends, and after a thorough sniff-over of the floor where the incident occurred, Perry feels at peace and is not afraid that walking over the spot will cause him further harm. They seem to have forgotten all about the incident.

Meanwhile, Stefan and I will always remember. I do not wish to remember, but I do not wish to forget, either.

Vacation Week

Well, the end of vacation is near. After tomorrow, I will have to go back to work. Although it seems this week went by pretty fast, I feel refreshed and recharged and ready. It's been a busy week, too!

On Saturday, we tried to motivate ourselves to clean the rest of the house. We had been cleaning and clearing all week, trying to get the spare room looking more like a spare room, and finally putting order to Stefan's office. In the process, we discovered that the spare room gets more light than our bedroom, so we're going to change rooms - again! This will be our third bedroom move. Probably before next week is over, we will have officially set up camp in all of our bedrooms at some point.

On Sunday, we had a party/cook-out with some of our friends. It was blistering hot - like 58% humidity and a heat index of 103. Going outside would cause an instant sweat-fest. Cooking hamburgers after having a couple of margaritas is not a good idea. Unless you like them crispy and black through-and-through. But I thought I'd try anyhow, and subsequently, Stefan had to come out and turn off the grill. We have some scorch-marks on the back of the house from the flames I caused. Oops. I'm not allowed to grill anymore. Dave was a good sport and he ate one of my hamburgers anyway while Stefan grilled up a new batch.

Dave took Rhiannon in the pool for a little bit, and judging from the permanent grin on her face, she had a blast. Later, after Rhiannon had to go home, Stefan and I went in the pool. The water got up to 82 degrees - a record! and it didn't feel chilly anymore. I swam around for a bit after Stefan got out (too hard to resist swimming but the tattoo is not healed yet) while everyone sweated on the back deck and conversed. Later, after everyone left, Sam and Dave stopped back by for a bit and Stefan whipped up another batch of his margaritas.

Monday, Stefan was aching for some pedialyte. Perhaps the new margarita recipe is a little too strong? We finished cleaning up and then headed to the airport to pick up Aunt Helen, Uncle Mike and Inky. This is the first time I have encoutered the Bridge from Hell. A new bridge was built, I'll call it the Death Wish Bridge, and it has an on-ramp like a rollercoaster. And these teeny-tiny concrete guardrails with a speed limit of 60. You're so far up in the clouds, you can't even see the James River as you cross. How much to pay for this delightful thrill ride? $2.25 each way! But it was the quickest way to the airport.

Aunt Helen and Uncle Mike had a lovely visit. The dogs played and played. We talked, drank coffee, and smoked. Stefan got up with Cubby every morning (he instinctively knows when it's 7am and time to go out) and let me sleep in. What a sweetheart. We took more pictures of the dogs than of the humans, but come on, it's not everyday you get to see a 10 pound chihuahua taunting a 90 pound german shepherd. Perry would play this game where he would jump up and bite Inky's tail. This would start the game of chase, and Inky would go after Perry, while Perry bounced around like a ping-pong ball. Too funny. Cubby took a special liking to Uncle Mike, preferring to be held quietly on his lap, which is quite a feat for a 3 month old puppy.

We took Helen and Mike out to Brother's for dinner Monday night. While we didn't do a whole lot of special things, we mainly enjoyed each other's company.

Helen and Mike stayed until Thursday. When we got back from the airport, we didn't feel like doing much, so we just surfed the Internet, played computer games and watched Tivo shows. Friday finally found me beginning to relax. I don't think I know how to relax anymore. I read an entire book (The Bell Jar) and only after that, did I feel myself becoming refreshed. I generally read non-fiction, and yesterday, I just couldn't get into my next book all that well, so that's when I picked up The Bell Jar. It was perfect - just the right length for reading in a day, and entertaining enough to keep me reading.

This morning, I am sitting on the deck, watching the puppies play. It's Stefan's turn to sleep in. The pool is a wreck -we got some bad storms this week, and a lot of heavy branches fell down. The weather has cooled off dramatically, so I haven't felt inspired to get in and clean the pool. Oh, yeah, and I'm on vacation, anyways.

New Tattoo

It's a big committment to marry someone. Perhaps one of the biggest committments of your life. Lately, I found something that, strangely enough, seems more so.

Consider this ... would you put your spouse's face permanently on your body?

I got the idea just before Holly's birthday and looked at a link she had sent me while she was researching what she wanted for a her next tattoo. I visited the link and was amazed by the quality of work the artist had to show online. So, on a whim, I gathered up 3 or 4 of Holly's best pics and drove to Colonial Heights to visit Tom at Mystic Tattoo.

Tom is a great guy. A free-loving spirit with strong convictions and a tremendous heart. We started off with a business transaction that turned into a friendship. Over the next couple of weeks Tom created several drafts of a photo I brought him and Holly's beautiful face began to emerge as a living piece of artwork. Tom, recognizing how much this meant to me took great care in constructing the picture, and even when it was perfect, he fretted about this line or that. Finally we had a date for the job ... Friday June, 23rd. (Brenda, Tom's wife and an absolutely wonderful woman, shifted the busy schedule around and got me in as soon as she could.)

As Friday approached I was excited and nervous. I'd never had a tattoo done on my chest and I heard stories of how painful it could be. But I began to realize it wasn't just the pain that had me on edge. It was the fact that I was about to put another person's face permanently etched upon my own flesh. As I thought about that, I realized this was the true marriage proposal. It far outweighed me getting down on one knee in an empty mall courtyard and blubbering something unintelligible that neither Holly nor I can remember. This was hardcore. This was real.

Now, two days after Friday, I feel truly married to my wife. She is truly a part of me and I have no regrets. I love her. And everyday hereafter I can simply look into a mirror and see her beautiful face smiling back at me. I am a happily married man.

(Pictures of the tattoo are in the gallery section.)

Drunks and Mailboxes

Country living is pleasant, but there are downsides. Take for instance, the large number of people who drive home drunk because they're on the backroads. This puts all country-living dweller's mailboxes at greater risk of getting hit.

And then, suppose you drive twenty minutes to the closest hardware store, pick up a new mailbox, and drive home, only to discover the new mailbox is missing installation instructions, address numbers and the hardware to put it together.

This is a recipe for frustration. Thankfully, we are used to that by now, so mishaps along the way are almost expected.

Stefan and I replaced our mailbox for the second time today. When we first moved in, we had an oversized mailbox sitting precariously on a wooden pole on the right side of the driveway (assume the house is on the right side of the road). It was balanced on its perch by some duct tape and bunji cords. We eventually replaced the mailbox, once we got tired of having to rebalance it on the post, and it was quite an ordeal because we didn't have all the right tools, so we improvised. Stefan drilled that thing into the post with some massive screws. We were proud of our handiwork. The mailbox even had a fancy reflective number thingy-majig on the top of the mailbox. We even put some reflectors on both sides of the post so it would be seen more easily at night.

Even still, the mailbox got hit a couple of times, and the post got very loose in the soil. It's generally not good to have the mailbox next to the driveway before you normally turn into the driveway, as it makes it more vulnerable to being clipped. When our fence was being installed, the guys were nice enough to dig us a new hole on the left side of the driveway, fill it with concrete, and move our mailbox over there. We were elated. This for sure would solve our mailbox problems.

That mailbox hadn't been up for very long when it took another hit. However, since the post had been made stable with concrete, the mailbox took the brunt of the hit. The poor little reflective number sign swung off to the side, and the door would no longer shut. Then, to add insult to injury, the mailbox got hit AGAIN the very next night. Now there was a dent in the side. We started scratching our heads, trying to figure out how to solve this problem. We didn't want to have to replace the mailbox every few months. And we didn't want to leave a busted up looking mailbox out there, like our neighbor did. I guess he got tired of replacing his mailbox.

It's amazing what you begin to notice when you look to solve your problems. We started taking note of other people's mailboxes, and we noticed that many country-dwellers had these rubber-maid plastic mailboxes that were a single piece. The mailbox and pole were one unit that was drilled into a post, preferably a post set in concrete. We decided this was the way to go. Off we go to Lowes one day when we were in town. We came back with a black one.

Well, it's been a couple of weeks, and we've been meaning to getting around to replacing the mailbox, but life has a funny way of getting in the way of plans. Then, last night, the mailbox got hit once again, only this time, the mailbox was ripped almost completely off the post. It was time to change the mailbox.

Today, it was 90 degrees out and 56% humidity. We go outside, open up the box, and guess what? There are no instructions, no address numbers, and most importantly, no hardware to put the darn mailbox together. Since we didn't get the mailbox from the closest Home Depot, we had to figure out what to do. We needed a couple of things from Home Depot anyway, so we figured we'd get a new mailbox from there, and I would return the defective one from the Lowes when I went to work later this week. The nearest Home Depot for us is more like Ghetto Depot - everything is over-priced, the customer service is less than stellar, and the selection is skimpy. But that's one of the sacrifices you make when you move to the country. So it's no suprise that when we get there, they have no black mailboxes and we have to get a green one that is similar in style. But no matter, we wanted it for the parts anyway.

Fortunately, the installation went smoothly, thanks to the accumulation of tools we have bought over the recent months. In addition, we installed a plaque of an eagle on the front dormer. We found it at an antique shop down in Old Town Petersburg yesterday. Stefan will post some pics soon.

Old Town was a blast. Our friends Dave and Sam invited us to go to the Petersburg Farmer's Market, and we then spent the morning going around to all the antique shops and other boutiques in the area. It's not that far away, and it's kind of like an undiscovered Carytown. We had a great time, topping off the morning with a delicious homemade meal at a local restaurant. It's definitely a place we plan to visit again often. Thanks again Sam and Dave! It's these discoveries that make us feel more at home where we are.

Bullriding and Beer

Stefan and I went to the Greg Potter Slate River Ranch Classic Professional Bull Rider's Enterprise Tour last night at the Richmond Coliseum. Our seats were row D - not quite close enough to be in danger if a bull came charging over the side, but definitely close enough!

For the next 2 1/2 hours, we were treated to world-class entertainment. We had a rip-roaring good time! Neither of us have been to see Bullriders in all their live glory, but those cowboys are really something. So were the bulls. They didn't have any of that I-don't-care-about-putting-on-a-good-show attitude that we experienced at the Soul 2 Soul tour. And we were relieved about that. The bulls did what they did - throw rider after rider and stun the crowd with their sheer massiveness. I wish we'd brought some A-1 sauce! While the bulls were shorter than the horses (there were 3 riders equipped with lassos who helped "guide" wayward bulls back towards the chamber after throwing its rider), their legs were extremely stocky and heavy-set, with thick bodies and necks. Beautiful creatures when viewed from the safety and distance of Row D.

The crowd was definitely a different flavor than the Faith Hill/Tim McGraw crowd. Although both shows attract cowboy/cowgirl type people, the folks at the PBR were the serious kind of cowboy - the ones who long to wrangle up their own good fun with their 4-legged creatures. The man sitting next to us was sporting a cast - a reward from being thrown by his bronco. We felt strangely at home with this crowd. We didn't feel out of place, and we enthusiastically threw ourselves into the excitement going on around us, although the excitement was more low-key than the concert the week before.

We got there about 40 minutes before the show started, found our seats, and then went to grab a bite to eat and a beer. What's a rodeo without a beer? The coliseum floor had been converted from a concrete slab to a dirt ring and a bunch of holding pens at one end. Each pen was just large enough for a bull to stand, while the rider climbed over the pen and onto the bull's back. The program came with a list of the 40 riders who were competing that night, along with the name of the bull they were to be riding. We figured the show would be quite long, but it went by surprisingly quick. Each rider is trying to stay on the bull for 8 seconds. If he stays on that long, then he qualifies for the next round, where the top ten riders compete for the number 1 spot. The goal of the second round is to stay on for 8 seconds, and the bulls selected for the second round were picked for their throwing ability. Even out of 40 contestents, less than 10 were able to hold on for 8 seconds, so a couple of guys were randomly selected to fill up the 10 spots in the championship round.

I don't know how to explain how much fun we had, but we left that evening, with hoarse voices from all the shouting and yee-haws we did. Stefan will be posting a bunch of pictures, that will probably be exciting only to us. It really is something to see in person. Something gets lost in the translation of the photos. All in all, although we were tired and didn't feel all that enthusiastic about driving all the way up to Richmond for the show, we were really glad we went, and it will go down in our memory book as one of those times to look back fondly on. It's really great to try something new and different every now and then - we still surprise ourselves with what we find we really enjoy. And guaranteed, the next time the rodeo comes to town, we will be there!

Happy Birthday Stefan!!

Happy birthday to my hunnypie! I wuv you so vewy, vewy much!