It’s been a while since I’ve had time to post anything here. I’ve been struggling to keep up with Props & Pans. Our lovely dial-up country bumpkin internet service is SLOW! Note to realtor’s - you should really tell anyone who’s moving from the city to the country that things like DSL and Cable aren’t usually available.

Other than the internet connection our house is slowly becoming home to us. It hasn’t taken Ethan much time to meet and greet the neighbor kids. He can usually be found running from one yard to another. One great thing about our area is that our road is just a gravel lane with about 8 homes and every neighbor has young children. Being out by cornfields and away from the busy street we were used to, we can let Ethan run a little more and not worry as much.

This is the beautiful sunset we are quickly becoming accustomed to in the evening. The ambulance sirens and helicopter noises we were used to are becoming replaced with frogs and the sound of the wind whipping through corn fields.

Nate’s been doing a lot of the outdoor work and I’ve been playing Inspector Gadget indoors, looking for things we know we packed but aren’t sure where. Meanwhile over Memorial Day weekend, we had an odd request regarding our home in the city that was still on the market. A young man asked if he could stay the night in our empty home.

My first reaction was to think of the HGTV show “Sleep On It,” where people spend the night in a house to see if it is a good fit or not. Believe it or not, our realtor had never seen this show! I bet he’s never watched House Hunter’s either. In fact, he was quite shocked by the request calling it the “stupidest thing he’s ever heard of.”

We weren’t really opposed to allowing this, because we’d moved all of our items out except a love seat and bed. We did require some legal paperwork to hold the man liable for any damage, etc… It went well and he made us an offer. Now we are to the inspection phase and this guy submitted a list of 45 demands that he wants corrected.

For example:
Remove sandbox and sand from yard - Fine.

Replace furnace filter - There is a new filter sitting next to the furnace, but we can put it in if you really don’t know how.

Remove an old heavy dresser that was left in our basement - Fine hand me a chain saw.

Replace all light bulbs in the house with the new energy efficient ones - What? Does he not know where Wal-Mart is? Lazy ass.

Unplug a light hanging over the basement shower - He must be a double arm amputee right?

After two weeks of the back-and-forth ridiculous demands we finally gave him the final offer and a deadline to reply. Needless to say he backed out of buying our house and it is back on the wonderful market. There will be no more overnights. I’m fairly certain he made this list of demands during the 14 hours he spent alone combing the house for issues.

The other day I went into Hobby Lobby to look at some poster frames. To my surprise they were on sale, had the black wood trim I was looking for and were the right size. Ethan has requested that his new room be a Star Wars theme and since he’s our only child we tend to spoil him some. Plus in all fairness, I choose the cars & trucks theme he’s been stuck with since he was born. So it is time for a change.

My brother gave Ethan some posters that were his a long time ago. They are still wrapped with cardboard behind them and in perfect condition. My problem had been finding frames to match the size. Online the frames were going to cost me anywhere from $89 - $110. I was thankful to find exactly what I wanted at Hobby Lobby, plus they were 50% off!

I wasn’t in a hurry so I stood in the only open line behind a lady with a young child, who upon first glance was extremely antsy. In front of her at the checkout was a woman with three cartloads of craft items that I heard her say where for Vacation Bible School.

So we all three stood there for a few minutes when another line opened. I moved my cart back so that the antsy woman could make a mad dash for the other register, but I stayed put.

The problem was that there were two older ladies who made it to the new line before the antsy lady. So she mumbled and jumbled, and finally decided to stay in the new line. Seeing that she wasn’t headed back to my line, I moved up behind the Vacation Bible School woman and waited.

I admit there are days and moments when I am not patient. That is not my strong suit, but I’m working on it. Situations like this are good practice.

Suddenly things sped up and it was almost my turn to check-out. The other line was now doing the dreaded intercom call, “I need a price check on aisle 4.” As I’m reaching for my frames, the antsy lady appears at my side and says, “I was in line here.”

Shocked I replied, “You were?”

“Yes, this is my line. Excuse me,” she said as she started to reach over my cart to lay her items on the counter.

“No. Excuse me. You left this line.”

“Don’t make a scene. It’s not like I’m cutting. We aren’t in third grade,” she said while laughing.

So I pulled my cart back a little to allow her to check-out. The older woman behind me who looked like a sweet grandmother and was purchasing a cart full of yarn loudly stated, “What a bitch!”

I almost spit my gum out, but contained myself enough to politely smile at her. (What it reminded me of is something my own grandmother would have said well above a whisper in a crowded store.)

After the antsy lady finished emptying her cart onto the counter, yet another cashier opened. I stayed put, but the grandmother behind me insisted I go ahead to the open line. While signing my receipt I notice that the antsy lady had an issue. Apparently, the register had locked up and it wouldn’t scan items. She shuffled back and forth in anticipation, and realized she was now stuck where she was.

Meanwhile the line she moved to the first time had cleared. The grandmother buying the yarn had already checked out after moving to that line and was headed out the door. As I pushed my cart out the entrance I politely smiled at the antsy woman and went on my way.

Sometimes it pays to be patient.

Today we did a lot of outside work at our new house. Since the weather was nice, most of the families on our street were doing the same things in their own yards. It was the first opportunity we’ve had to meet a lot of our new neighbors.

First impressions mean everything. To my own defense it was my first time on a riding lawnmower. Picture me mowing in our front yard, waving at the next door neighbor and then immediately running into a tree.

If anything they got a first impression of the true me.

Everywhere I turn I hear about the naked photo’s that Miley Cryus (aka Hannah Montana) took at a Vanity Fair magazine shoot. It’s been on the radio, in the news and of course around the internet. So this morning I took a few minutes to see what all the buzz was about and this is what I found.

Now, I realize she is indeed posing semi-naked, wrapped in a sheet and only 15 years old. I do not believe she is being modest in any regard and I blame the adults in her life who are supposed to watch over her. You cannot always control children, but she has consultants, assistants, managers and even parents who should oversee things such as this. Clearly someone took advantage of the situation knowing full well that this would indeed sell magazines.

That being said I also realize she is a commodity. A hot one at that. So I’m sure values and good judgment are thrown out the window when you think of publicity and how much sex appeal sells.

Although I do not approve of these photographs, the harsh criticism she is receiving is really unfair if you consider that society expects one thing and then demands the opposite of our youth. We portray them as objects that can be bought and then expect them to act as role models, because we paid for them.

I’m surprised at the outrage over showing her backside when the bathing suits most girls her age wear reveal much, much more than this. Quite honestly, I could walk into our local mall and see more nudity than I do from this photo. Take Abercrombie & Fitch for example. Their ads and photos resemble mild porn.

Their young models bare far more to advertise clothing they are not even wearing.

So why is the media criticizing the commodity that keeps them in business? They created her image. They sell her image. But they also profit from her controversy.

Hi my name is Emily and I am a stalker.

Seriously, I believe I have the genetic make up to be one. For the past 8 years we have lived in an older neighborhood where the homes are almost within touching distance. Although we love our house and most (not all) of our neighbors, we are in the process of moving. We’ve really just begun with getting the touching finishes on our house to put it in the awful market.

This means we’ve had to decide exactly what we want in this next home. For me that was an easy list, because I don’t require much. An attached garage, a dishwasher and more than one bathroom. That would make happy. Throw in a few things like laundry on the first floor and a big bath tub and you’ve pretty well made my year.

I could be satisfied just about anywhere, but my husband has other dreams. He would like to be able to sit out in the backyard in his boxers and listen to his New Kids On The Block cassette tapes blaring without being judged. Just kidding. But he doesn’t want to live so close to the neighbors that they can hear me yell obscenities when he drives into our fence. That happened here once and my voice carried throughout the city. But you know, if he just watched where he was going this wouldn’t be an issue.

Really he just doesn’t like the whole block knowing what Santa brought Ethan by glancing at the boxes on trash day. I on the other hand love being able to to decipher other’s lives by a little window watching. I enjoy watching people. Some might call me nosy, but I prefer the word curious. It just seems much nicer.

So who will I stalk out in the middle of nowhere? Think of all the free time I’ll have. Thank goodness for blogs and the ability to stalk all of you. I’m going to call it cyber-stalking.