I’M ONE OF THE COOL KIDS NOW

My good friend, Pseudonymous High School Teacher, has given me an award for the Coolest Blog. Isn't that COOL! I've never been one of the cool kids so this is a first for me. I'm always more of the cutesy, silly, dorky type. Cool just isn't a word that people usually use to describe me so it comes as quite a surprise that my blog is cool. I would like to take this opportunity to offer up my biggest cup of gratitude to Pseudo. Thanks, Girl! You're the Best!

***MUAAHHH***

If you haven't checked out her blog, go there now. For starters, she lives in Hawaii and posts great pictures and videos but there is soooo much more. I am honored to be considered in the same league.

As with any award, there are rules to be followed. The coolest part of this award is that the only rule is you have to pass this honor on to five other blogs. The hardest part is narrowing it down to five. I've been at this blogging thing for six months now. I would like to honor the first five blogs I started reading. After all, if they weren't cool, would I still be reading them? I said I'm not cool, I didn't say that my friends aren't.

***sound of envelope opening***

And the award goes to:

Jan's Sushi Bar

Midlife Slices

My Life Interrupted

Nothing Fancy

Of Thistles and Maple Leaves

Enjoy your award, Ladies. I love you all!

If you haven't checked out the blogs listed above, you're missing it. You will find recipes, gut-splitting, belly-laughing wit, a little sarcasm, midlife issues, family secrets, cuteness personified and really cool information. These women are a mix of backgrounds, education and cultures.

Just go there.

Now!

I'm a little bossy today, huh? Must be the hormones again. (I blame them for everything.)

BOOBS, BUTTS AND BELLIES

Blessings, another "B"

There is an alphabet meme circulating the blogosphere. I love memes. Maybe not as much as Thistle but I do love memes. I think they are a great way to get to know more about the blogger. I did the alphabet meme in December and my very good friend, Midlife Slices, gave me the letter "K". At first I thought that was a pretty hard letter but once I got started it didn't seem too bad. This time I've asked Nothing Fancy to give me another letter and she was kind enough to give me the letter "B".

The first thing that comes to mind when I think of words that start with the letter "B" are boobs, butts and bellies. My children went to public school. They had very strict dress codes in elementary and middle school. So I thought it was funny that once they reached high school, the only dress code was that they weren't allowed to show their boobs, butts or bellies. By the time D2 was a senior, they decided to go with uniforms but until that time the only rule was that you couldn't show the three "B"s.

The rules for this meme are that I am to list ten things I love that start with "B". If you would like to participate, leave me a comment and I will assign you a letter.

There are so many things I love that start with "B", it was actually hard to narrow it down to ten. But here they are:

1. The Bible: No explanation necessary. Life's little instruction booklet.
   
2. Balls, as in ball de foot, aka football. I love football. Not necessarily NFL but I love college and high school football. OK, I do love the Colts and Peyton Manning. I also love basketball. My team is the Pacers. I know they are bad boys but I'm an Indiana girl and I love my Indiana teams. And I love baseball. THE CHICAGO CUBS! I know, I know. I've learned to live with disappointment. Last but not least, I love bourbon balls. My mother used to make the best bourbon balls. I really need to look for that recipe.
   
3. Bauer as in Jack. I love me some 24. I still have to catch up with the earlier seasons but I've been a devoted fan for the last three. Whatever you do, don't call me on Monday nights after 9pm.
   
4. Bobby Bowden. FSU football coach. He just signed yesterday for another year. Jimbo Fisher is going to have to remain the coach in waiting for at least one more year.
   
5. My Blackberry aka crackberry but that starts with "c". The things that this phone can do never cease to amaze me. I'm pretty sure that it would make me coffee in the morning if I only knew how to program it.
   
6. The beach. I love the beach and I don't get there enough.
   
7. Blue eyes. MHS has blue eyes. My kids have blue eyes. I even have blue eyes. Do you know that if my children had any other eye color than blue, MHS would have grounds for divorce. True story. Two blues always make blue. It was even on Jeopardy. I just love it when I know the answer.
   
8. Breakfast at Tiffany's. This is one of my all time favorite movies. I just love Holly Golightly. I wish that was my name. Isn't that a great name?
   
9. Books. I love to read and own hundreds of books. My favorite authors of late are Vince Flynn, Nelson DeMille and the ever popular John Grisham.
   
10. Brad Paisley. I love the humor in his lyrics and the fact that he is a great musician. And he is married to that cute girl from Father of the Bride.
    

So there you have it. Ten things I love that start with "B".

If you would like to play along, leave me a comment and I will send you a letter right away. Or when I get around to it. Which ever comes first.

THE STORY OF US

A few days ago, I posted my 100^th blog post. I announced at the time that my friend, Nothing Fancy was working on her 100^th also. Well, Fancy (I can call her that because we are friends, ya know.) used her 100^th post to tell how she met her husband and their love story. It is a romantic, ooey-gooey tale of almost and near misses that will just make your little heart go pitter pat. If you haven't read it, go there. Especially you Northerners…..you could use the extra heat. *wink*

Fancy's story inspired me to tell my own true love story. Now bear in mind that I met My Harley Stud when I was a wee bit younger so my story doesn't quite have the steam that Fancy's does but maybe….just maybe, it will make you say……………"Geesh, them thare country folk sure start 'em young."

Once a year when I was in elementary school, my mother would meet with my current teacher for a parent-teacher conference. Each year she was told the same thing.

• She pays attention in class.
  
• She follows instruction.
  
• She is helpful.
  
• She gets good grades.
  

  
  

  But…
  

• She talks too much….
  
• And she's boy crazy.
  

Every.Single.Year. What can I say? At least I'm consistent.

The year I entered the fifth grade was the first year that the sixth graders moved to the middle school. Suddenly the fifth graders were the top dogs. My twin girlfriends, the Purdy Girls, and I were selected to be safety patrols. We were giddy with POWER.

We trained for our posts during the first week of school. Each day while we were training, there was a boy……a sixth grader…..who would walk over from the middle school to collect his younger siblings and walk them home. He was HOT. Seriously. OK, maybe not so seriously. But he was twelve year old HOT.

When it came time to pick our posts, the Purdy Girls (who were apparently just as boy crazy as I was) and I fought over who would get the corner where the HOT boy had to walk past everyday. I think we drew straws or flipped a coin. I can't remember. It doesn't matter because……I.WAS.THE.WINNER!

This hot, older "man" was a new kid. I was aware that his family moved to town. It's a very small town and if you know anything about small towns, you know that not much flies under the radar. Everybody knows everything. Plus one of his brothers was in the fifth grade. Kids notice the new kid. And in a small town, we embrace them. Anyway……….the HOT sixth grader would walk past my post everyday on his way to the school to pick up his four younger siblings. They would walk back past my post in stair-step formation. Now before you get the idea that they were some kind of modern day American Von Trapps, let me tell you this. MHS is the oldest of six children. Five boys, one girl. The youngest was not yet in school. Each day as they walked past, there was usually some swearing heard, the boys might pull the girl's hair. Sticks were thrown. They weren't singing "My favorite things" if you know what I mean.

Nevertheless, this foul-mouthed older "man" intrigued me. He didn't pay any attention to me. I was a fifth-grader after all. As if!

But all year, every day I would watch him walk past me twice. I would stare at him all glassy eyed, dreaming of the day we would have a mortgage and car payments and……..WAIT! That was NOT the fantasy. The reality was he never even said hello. He would just pass by and smile. The most amazing smile. Blue eyes and great teeth. The first time my mother met him (a few years later) she said, "Marry him, Smart Mouth. He has great teeth. Your children will have great teeth." She was kidding. I wasn't.

Things didn't heat up for another two years but that story will have to be another day.

OK, so it wasn't a steamy and edge-of-your-seat kind of story. But it was kinda cute, right? What is your true love story?

***Note***

I just read this post to MHS who confirmed that he has no recollection of that silly safety patrol who was all ga-ga over him.

THIS TOO, WILL PASS

Whether you are at the top of the hill or the bottom of the barrel, things are going to change.

It would behoove us to remember this.

YOU KNOW WHAT ASSUMING IS………

I received an email a few days ago from a dear friend. This particular friend is not one who usually forwards email. When he does, it's always special. The email consisted of a series of photographs with inspirational text set within the photograph. I enjoyed them so much that I've decided to share one a day with you until I've shared them all.

I thought it was only fitting that if I'm going to show you the images, that I introduce you to my friend who I will call Da Man. Because he is. Da Man is a computer genius. I know this because I used to work for him and have witnessed the miracles that he's performed. We parted ways professionally years ago but we are forever friends. I have a favorite little story about Da Man and it goes something like this:

Da Man has a computer consulting business. His company offers I.T. consulting, hardware and software support and installation. Da Man is very good looking. He looks like your typical all-American guy. Only better. He has light (blue, I think) eyes and dark hair. His last name is a common Jewish name although he is not Jewish. We live in South Florida. There is a very large Jewish population here. And there is a large Cuban community also.

Years ago, he was doing some work in an office in Miami. He had to crawl under the desk to get to the computer. The women in the office gathered around the desk to make themselves available in case he needed a date they might be of assistance to him. They began to discuss in detail what a great ass he had. The entire conversation was in Spanish. They chatted on and on without hesitation secure in the belief that this All-American guy had no clue what they were saying.

Da Man is a Cuban-American. He doesn't look Hispanic. He is fluent in Spanish and I'm not sure but would take a guess that it was his first language. You cannot detect even a hint of a Spanish accent when he speaks English.

Da Man is a gentleman though. He completed his work and never let on that he understood their entire conversation. I wasn't there but I'm pretty sure he had a smile on his face while he worked.

I think it was a few days later that Da Man's office manager was speaking on the phone with one of the women in the office where they had sooooo admired his backside. In the course of the conversation it was revealed that Da Man speaks Spanish. The phone was dropped. Loud screaming and shrieking was heard in the background.

More words of wisdom from the Smart Mouth Broad: Never assume anything.

I’M FINE, REALLY JUST FINE (A Lucy Story)

Do you watch the Ghost Whisperer? I'm somewhat of a new fan to this program but really enjoy it. Do you think we can communicate with the dead? Can they leave us messages? Do our loved ones who've gone before us watch over and protect us? These are questions that I can't answer but I assume when I get to heaven (God willing….literally) that it will all become clear. Until then, I'm going to choose to believe that even though my mother, Lucy, died almost five years ago, she still watches over me.

Lucy died from colon cancer. It was without a doubt, the most difficult time in my life to date. Our family was fortunate that we had many friends and family members who came to visit, called to give encouragement and were there for us during this heart-breaking time. Eventually the formalities that we all practice became humorous to me. People would greet me by saying, "How are you?" I would answer, "Fine." Of course, I wasn't really fine. I would giggle to myself. OK, I didn't actually giggle. It was just a little game I played in my head.

You see, months before Lucy became ill; I had been in church listening to a guest speaker. He spoke of how we all greet people by asking how they are, never meaning for them to really tell us. We just expect them to say "fine" so we can move on. He went on to say that most of us are hurting in some way but will still answer that question by saying "fine."

He then proceeded to give the word fine as an acronym.

F=fearful

I=insecure

N=neurotic

E=…………..uh…………………..Damn, I can never remember E.

Each time a friend would ask me how I was doing. I would answer that I was fine. But in my head, I was reciting that I was F.I.N.........E?????? And then I would go on racking my brain to remember what the E was for.

After Lucy passed, I was going through some of her things. I came across a church bulletin from my church. I should mention here that my parents live 200 miles north of where I live so we did not attend the same church. When I opened the bulletin, I saw that it was from that same day when we had the guest speaker and there in my mother's handwriting were the letters:

F=fearful; I=insecure; N=neurotic; E=emotional!

That's it! I couldn't believe that I had forgotten it. No matter how hard I had tried, I couldn't remember what the "E" stood for. Mom to the rescue, once again. I didn't even remember that she had been with me in church that day. But there it was in black and white, the answer for which I had been searching.

I smiled and thanked her with tears in my eyes. But they were happy tears. Because at that moment, I knew that Lucy was still watching over me. Like every mother does for her child. And I believe she always will.

Have you had a similar experience?

100! WOW!

It's my 100^th post! Wow! Who knew I had so much to say? Well……besides me, I mean.

There is a tradition here in Bloggyville to post 100 interesting facts about yourself in your 100^th post. I'm pretty sure that I've covered everything even remotely interesting in the first 99 so as one who never seems to be able to follow the rules exactly, I have decided to go in another direction.

When I created this blog, I did it thinking that I would talk mostly about midlife issues such as weight gain loss, healthy diet, exercise, general health and women's issues. Instead it's become ……………….well, I'm not sure what it's become: A constant rambling of random thoughts that bounce around in the empty space in my head and a way to chronicle the events in my life in a very public and sometimes embarrassing way. I also thought that being a woman who has raised two children to adulthood, has been married for 28 years, and has a wealth of life experience; I might impart some wisdom that could save others from making the mistakes I've made. Hence the name: Words of Wisdom From a Smart Mouth Broad. A noble gesture, don't you think? Turns out that I don't really have so much wisdom to impart. *sigh*

I've read many blog posts talking about the searches that bring readers to their site. Some of them are pretty amusing and some are just downright disturbing. For the most part, the searches that bring readers to my site are mostly asking for words of wisdom in some form. To those readers, I apologize because rarely will you find true wisdom in these pages. I do have several people who have arrived here looking for information about Paula Deen and if she has lost weight. I'm not sure how I became the expert on Paula Deen's weight loss but I do love her to pieces and have that great picture posted of me and Pualani with her cardboard cutout. That and the fact that I also love butter and mayonnaise.

Maybe I AM the Paula Deen expert!

As usual, I've rambled on and on about nothing and almost forgot why I came here in the first place. So.............I've decided to celebrate my 100^th blog post by fulfilling the promise of Smart Mouth Words of Wisdom. So, without further ado, here are just some of the rules I live by: (Wisdom is a relative thing, right?)

Wise Words about Love:

1. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Or you just find someone else. advice from Daddy
   
2. Every single thought that goes through your mind should not be verbalized to your beloved.
   
3. Your spouse doesn't need to know everything. My Mother, Lucy said it like this often: "Your father doesn't need to know everything."
   
4. Some days you're just not feelin' it so you just gotta wake up and choose to love them anyway.
   
5. Ignore the little voices in your head when they tell you to kill him (her) while he (she) sleeps. But if you can't, call me. I know a guy with a gator pit. (refer to Wise Words at the Gun Range)
   

Wise Words about Raising Children:

1. Don't wait until you're ready to have them. You're never ready.
   
2. Never teach your kids any word that you don't want to have repeated at full volume in church or the grocery store. It is for this reason that to this day, I do not use the anatomically correct words for body parts. I never wanted to hear the word penis or vagina in church…..or anywhere. (Woohoo and fella work just fine, thank you very much.)
   
3. To get a child's attention during a temper tantrum, it is best to grab their hair at the nape of their neck and instruct them not to move by whispering in their ear. If they move and they always do, they pulled their hair, you didn't.
   
4. Show up. Children spell love: T.I.M.E.
   
5. If you can't find them, open your wallet. They'll find you.
   

Wise Words in the Kitchen:

1. Always serve a pickle with a grilled cheese sandwich.
   
2. Chocolate chip cookies just taste better with beer. (This rule should be modified for younger cookie monsters.)
   
3. Never eat more than two cookies at a time. (However eating a whole bowl of cookie batter is completely acceptable.)
   
4. Keep your knives sharp. There is not a lot of things worse than chopping with a dull knife.
   
5. Keep your fingers out of the way when using a sharp knife. (Does anyone know what food group acrylic nails fall into?)
   

Wise Words about Housekeeping:

1. You are welcome to my home any time. If the mess bothers you, you probably shouldn't return. It might be worse the next time.
   

Wise Words about Grief:

1. It sucks.
   

Wise Words at the Gun Range:

1. Your aim will improve if you use the silhouette of a bad guy instead of a round bullseye target.
   
2. Don't shoot your spouse. (But if you do, call me, I know a guy with a gator pit.)
   
3. Bring food gifts to the guy who runs the range. It will get you great, instructional tips. (And he might have a gator pit behind his house.)
   
4. Don't wear tank tops or flip flops. I learned this the hard way and had a beautiful burn mark on my chest from a shell casing.
   
5. You don't have to lock your car there. Who would be stupid enough to break in with all those armed idiots around?
   

Wise Words on the Back of a Bike:

1. Ipod. If you take this advice, be careful when dancing on the back of the bike not to distract the driver. Oh…..and he (or she) can hear you sing.
   
2. Develop signals to communicate with the driver. International finger language works well in extreme situations.
   
3. Learn to pack light. (Dresses are not usually worn on a bike trip but I like to be prepared just in case.)
   
4. Always wear long sleeved pants. (Please see previous post for reference.)
5. You will see things on the back of a bike that you would never see from a car.
   

Wise Words about Paula Deen: (because apparently, I am the expert. *wink*)

1. She makes great hoe cakes.
   
2. There is nothing better than butter and mayonnaise. (not necessarily used together)
   
3. She has a really cute grandbaby.
   
4. Her Savannah Seduction coffee blend is some of the best I've ever tasted.
   
5. If you ever go to The Lady and Sons restaurant, check out the hand dryer in the ladies room. It will blow your hands right off your wrist! Oh and I recommend the chicken pot pie. OMG! And don't forget to tell them SMB sent you.
   
   

So, there you go, peeps! As promised, there are some real gems here. Take 'em or leave 'em. I've really only just scratched the surface. I've got more. If there's any area of your life that you feel my Smart Mouth Wisdom might be of service. Just ask. I'll be happy to help. *wink*

Hey, y'all! Word on the street is that Nothing Fancy is working on her 100th post even as I write this. Check her out. She'll be posting it some time soon!

IT’S A THREE DOG NIGHT

Jeremiah was a bullfrog! It's cold outside! Joy to the World! It's cold inside! It's 11:30pm and 33 degrees f. in South Florida. I seriously don't know how you people up north do it. I was born, raised and lived 19 glorious years right smack in the middle of Indiana so I know about cold and snow and freezing temperatures. But I've forgotten!

One more degree and we are really freezing. We have plastic on our fruit trees and plants outside to protect them from frost. We've closed the windows! As I write this, both dogs are in bed with us just for warmth and dang it! We're short a dog. Because it is A.THREE.DOG.NIGHT!

We never turn on the heat because we're cheap and it smells funny. It's the principle. We live in Florida. We do build a fire in the fireplace. But that's in the living room. Right now I'm considering building a fire on the floor by my bed. Bad idea? I'm not sure.

I have no idea what I'll wear to work tomorrow. I've already used my two warm outfits this week. I'll have to wear sweatpants and a pullover hoodie. Appropriate attire for an office manager? Who cares! I don't own socks. Oh sure, I have those little footie socks. But not the kind that keep your legs warm. Today in the elevator, I saw a woman all bundled up in every item of winter clothing she owns and when I looked down to her feet, she was wearing flip flops. I almost laughed but I understood. Wool coat and flip flops. (Thongs, HBL) We clearly aren't equipped to handle this weather. We don't even own shoes with toes in them.

I'm going to sleep now. I'm going to dream of balmy, beach breezes and hopefully I will wake up in Texas where Midlife Slices tells me it's supposed to be 70-80 degrees tomorrow.

BRRRRRRR!

Frozen orange juice, anyone?

I WOULD BE YOUR FACEBOOK FRIEND (but I don’t know how)

Lately I've been getting a lot of invitations to join Facebook. I've always thought it was really just for kids but I guess that is because that's why I even know it exists. My daughters have explained to me what it means to have a Facebook friend. I've looked at their Facebook accounts and know it's a place to comment and show pictures and let everyone know what you are up to these days. I get it. ……..I think. But I just can't figure out what I would do with a Facebook account of my own. I can barely handle blogging and maintaining some resemblance of a real life. How on earth would I be able to find the time to facebook as well. (Did I use the word correctly? Can you use Facebook as a verb? Like google? ……….These are the things I would need to know and frankly just don't have the time to investigate.)

But even without a Facebook account, the phenomenon that it has become has changed our lives.

Last spring during prom season, we were busy getting ready for D2's Senior Prom. While shopping for a dress online (a blog post in itself) we were discussing what her friends were wearing. D2's best friend, CinDEErella has a boyfriend who was attending boarding school in Tennessee at the time. She travelled to TN to attend his prom. And then he travelled to Florida to attend hers. I was saying that her mother, Miss Lolly, was probably happy that she would only have to buy one prom dress. I mean CinDEErella and her One True Love would be the only people who saw her in the dress and there should be no reason that she couldn't wear it again.

I barely got the words out of my mouth when I realized………………………….we shook our heads in unison and said together……."Facebook". Pictures from the first prom in Tennessee were plastered all over DEErella's and One True Love's Facebook pages. The dress couldn't possibly do a repeat performance.

Later, I explained all this to My Harley Stud. He got that kind of glassy eyed stare that says, "I love you more than life itself but I really don't give a shit."

Fast forward another month. We are preparing for D2's high school graduation. MHS asked me what I thought he should wear to the ceremony. I explained that I had already taken his light jacket and brown pants to the cleaners and would be picking them up later that day.

He looked me in the eye and with a straight face said, "I can't wear those pants and that jacket. I wore that to the NO and BW's wedding."

Me: "So what."

MHS: "Duh.......Facebook!"

Great balls o fire! The man does listen to me.

THE MAKING OF A BIKER CHICK - Mount Rushmore

It would be really hard to name a favorite stop on our bike trip out west but Mount Rushmore was most definitely one of them. The history of the area intrigued me. I loved stopping to read all the plaques that tell the tales. I loved the mountains, the trees, the cool air, all of it. I regret to say that my photography skills are no match for the beauty of this monument. (The above photo was "borrowed" from the internet.)

After riding for two days in extreme heat with temperatures soaring to 114 degrees, we were more than grateful to get to some higher elevation where it was much cooler. From this point forward, the trip just got more and more beautiful.

I always tried to take pictures of the signs as we entered the parks so I would be able to sort the albums later. Getting MHS to slow down for a decent photograph was not always easy. I found that a nice jab to his middle usually worked well.

This was our first view of this spectacular monument to Presidents Washington, Jefferson, Roosevelt and Lincoln. Around this corner is the entrance to the park. We didn't enter the park during the day but instead chose to take a ride through the mountains and return that evening for the presentation.

We encountered lots of bikers on our trip. No wonder as it was some of the best riding in the world, I'm told. There is an unwritten bikers' code that you always wave to another biker. Not an elbow, elbow, wrist, wrist princess wave but a low, subtle, 45 degree, straight arm, two finger kind of wave.

The views from this overlook were gorgeous.

See what I mean. If you've never seen it, this gives you an idea of just how big this thing is. You can see it from miles away.

If you look closely (and you may have to enlarge it), you can see the monument thru the tunnel.

I love these old wooden bridges.

President Roosevelt peeks through to say, "Bully for you, Smart Mouth Broad!" I can't be sure but I think I saw him wink at me.

When it started to get dark, we headed to the park for the show.

The Biker Nazi and The Saint lead the way.

This is the view looking up from the moving bike.

The entrance to the amphitheatre has this very impressive flag display. You can see the Presidents overhead watching us walk in.

After the flag display, these mountain goats are just roaming free right there. Y'all know how I love goats.

At the end of the history of Mount Rushmore presentation, the park ranger asked for all of the United States Military veterans to come to the stage. Once everyone was there, a round of applause erupted and it went on forever. It was awesome and brought tears to our eyes.

Pièce de résistance
The monument stays dark throughout the whole presentation and then is lit at the end.
Breathtaking!

THE MAKING OF A BIKER CHICK - Custer, SD

I kind of left you hanging with my last post about our bike trip out west. The holidays crept up on me and my biker chick story just got pushed to the back burner. What did you say? You weren't sitting on the edge of your seat with anticipation of my next biker post? Oh well, I will proceed nevertheless.

Since it's been awhile a little recap may be in order. If you're new here or one of my more forgetful readers or you just loved it so much the first time that you want to go back, here are links to the previous related posts.

THE MAKING OF A BIKER CHICK

THE MAKING OF A BIKER CHICK - The Badlands

We left the Badlands after breakfast and headed North toward Custer. As previously mentioned in the first two posts, it was hot. We all made the choice to forgo the safety feature of wearing long pants and opted for shorts and tank tops. We arrived at Mount Rushmore in the early afternoon. The Biker Nazi was excited to take us all around the mountain to show us the different views. We had plans to go the presentation that evening so we didn't actually enter the park. Mount Rushmore is so impressive and inspiring that I think it deserves its own post so that will have to wait for now.

By the time we made it to Custer, I was starving. The BN wanted to return to a restaurant where he had eaten on a previous trip and he didn't let us down. We walked into the Sage Creek Grill and were told that there would be a short wait. We all used this opportunity to freshen up in the restrooms. We had been riding in the heat all morning so we weren't exactly fresh as daisies. Once in the ladies room, I refreshed myself by throwing some cool water on my face and wiping down my arms and neck with a wet paper towel. It was then that I noticed just how dirty my legs were from wearing shorts on the road. I tried wiping off some of the road dirt but it would just smear. UGH. Talk about disgusting. I was finally able to get the water warm enough and with paper towel and soap, I gave myself a spit bath in the ladies room. This lesson was not lost on me and I didn't wear shorts on the road again regardless of how hot it was.

It wasn't long after I returned from the ladies room that we were seated. The service was great and the food was superb. I had the open-faced salmon sandwich with havarti-dill sauce. YUMMY! Granted I was so hungry that anything would have tasted good but I've linked the reviews so that you can see it wasn't just me. After satisfying our hunger, we asked if the server could recommend a place to stay. He explained that he was new in the area but would ask another server who was a native resident. I don't remember her name but a very nice woman came over to our table and gave us the name and number of a local motel. She told us to mention her name and said as long as we weren't looking for anything fancy, we wouldn't be disappointed. And it would be the cleanest place we've ever stayed.

I called The Valley Motel from the restaurant. The owner/operator answered the phone and assured me that she would get our rooms ready. She didn't want to take any credit card information to reserve the room. She said, "Your at the Sage Creek Grill? Just finish your meal, relax and I'll have everything ready when you get here. " Huh? It's been a long time since I've done business on just my word alone. I liked this place.


The owner (I forget her name) was a delightful woman with a wealth of knowledge about the area. We enjoyed getting to know her while we stayed there and found ourselves seeking her out for information and just to chat several times. It seems that quite a few of her visitors are repeat offenders. I can see why. If I ever make it back, I will definitely stay at the Valley Motel.

The server was right. The rooms were simple but as neat and clean as I've ever seen. We wasted no time showering and taking advantage of the opportunity to sit and relax for a bit.

With clean bodies and refreshed minds, we decided to go back into Custer to see the sights.

This is the historic Custer County Courthouse which is now a museum. Custer is the oldest city in South Dakota. This building was built in 1881. If you would like to learn more about Custer, click here for the link.

I love the look of this old building. We didn't partake of the Cheesecake or the espresso offered in the window but it sounds good, doesn't it?

Who are these two rascals?

We returned to this saloon later that evening after the presentation at Mount Rushmore. The Saint and I made a couple of new buddies there. There's nothing like new drunk friends.

You can't really see it well but the Biker Nazi is sitting on a bear chair made to look like the bear is grabbing him. I guess that explains his grim look.

This trading post was across the street from the bagel shop where we ate breakfast. It wasn't open yet so we weren't able to go inside and take a look around. I guess that antique gun will have to wait.

I didn't get a picture of the "bagel shop". I guess that's what it was because that's what it said in the window. But my New York and South Florida readers will laugh to know that they were serving Lenders from the freezer. (Not that there's anything wrong with that) And they were out of everything but cinnamon raisin. They did offer other breakfast items too. I can't complain because it was my idea to go there because I thought it would be quick, simple and get us back on the road. (Not that I was in any hurry to leave this sweet little town but we had places to go.)

The woman at the bagel shop was kind enough to come out and offer to get a picture of all us before we set off to our next destination.

Before we left the area to move on to Deadwood and Lead, we stopped by the see the Crazy Horse Monument which is still under construction. This is not a very good picture but if you look really closely, you can see Crazy Horse's profile.

My next Biker Chick post will show you our Mount Rushmore experience. It was one of the highlights for me. But I'm an American History geek.

SMART MOUTH BROAD TURNS SMART ASS

We love games. My family loves board games, car games, trivia games, any kind of game. And we are fiercely competitive. D2 brought a new game to the table over Thanksgiving break in North Carolina. Smart Ass. The tag line is Even if you're a Dumb Ass you can win! We loved it. By the time the holiday weekend was over, we were all hooked. When Christmas break arrived, we were all excited to be able to see who is the biggest Smart Ass again. I was even more excited on Christmas morning when D2 presented me with a Smart Ass page-a-day calendar.

It wasn't long before D1 went back to NC and her teaching job, D2 and Noleboy returned to school in North Florida and alas I had to return to work as well. It gives me great pleasure each day to turn to the next page on the calendar and see if I'm a Smart Ass or a Dumb Ass. On the first day the kids were back in school, without warning, I texted the three of them the first clue. It was: "I am a sportsman."

Nole Boy quickly responded: "Huh?"

I got nothing from D1 or D2. I followed with: "I am a triathlete." Nole Boy caught on and began to send guesses. D1 eventually started texting her replies. (She has a planning period during this time) Unbeknownst to me, D2 and Nole Boy were in the same class. Her phone was in her purse and sitting on the floor so she didn't hear or feel the vibrations from the texts. Afterall it was the first day of class and she was trying to pay attention. She kept noticing that Nole Boy was texting all throughout the class. Finally she turned to him and said, "Who are you talking to?"

He smiled and said, "I'm playing Smart Ass with your mom." D2 was immediately jealous until she looked at her phone and saw that the clues were being sent to her too. She began to play. Nole Boy won that day. The answer was Lance Armstrong. The kids are pretty evenly matched. Each of them has won several times.

I've started instant messaging the clues to the receptionist in my office too. A marketing rep came in for a visit today and requested that she be included too. I decided to take the competition one step further and send it on Twitter. Nothing Fancy was quick to jump on board. I think that woman is a genius! Today's question was pretty hard and she came up with the correct answer right away. Now Fancy has spoken of her love for board games, competition and everybody knows she loves football. But I know a secret. She cheats. She googled it. OK, I know, I didn't specify that you couldn't google it. But I'm calling an unsportsmanlike penalty. But "it's probably the first thing she's ever done wrong." So all is forgiven. *wink*

So if you're interested, tune in to Twitter. There's just one question: Are you a Smart Ass or a Dumb Ass?

A MEME? FOR ME?

The lovely and gracious T5M at Moore to Love has tagged me for a meme. It couldn't have happened at a better time. My creative well is running a bit dry. Oh sure, I've got a few things in the works but that's just it, they're not really working. So there's nothing like a meme to come in and save the day. Thanks, T5M, for coming to my rescue.

Here are the rules:

1. Go to your documents/pictures.
   
2. Go to your 6^th file.
   
3. Go to your 6^th picture.
   
4. Post it and blog all about it.
   
5. Tag 6 people to do the same.
   
6. Smile. (This little step was added by T5M to keep with the six theme)
   

This picture was taken at a friend of Daughter #2's. The girls were supposed to be practicing for a FBLA competition in Parliamentary Procedures at the state convention. This is one of many photographs where they were hamming it up. Wouldn't you just love to know what they thought was so funny? I don't think they got much practicing done but it sure looks like they were having fun. Don't they look like Future Business Leaders of America to you?

Now comes the part where I'm supposed to tag 6 people for this meme. You just never know who wants to do this sort of thing and who has several posts already planned so if you feel like a meme.....I tag YOU.....and YOU.......and YOU.....and YOU.....and YOU......YOU! That's six, right?

CONVERSATION WITH A BIKER NAZI

I mentioned a few days ago that The Biker Nazi's family, The Saint, Son #1 and Son #2, headed for home without him on Jan. 2^nd. LEAVING.HIM.HERE.WITH.ME! In all honesty, I have enjoyed his stay but to tell him that would just hurt too much. You see if you haven't heard already, my whole relationship with The Biker Nazi is based on seeing who can antagonize the other the most. We've been friends (and I use the term loosely here) for as long as I can remember. He is MHS's best friend. He was best man in our wedding. I love him to death but treat him like he is the bug in the middle of the faceshield on my helmet. Always in my way. Always an annoyance. It's how we've always been. What can I say? It works.

The following conversation was held across the dinner table a few evenings ago:

BN: "Smart Mouth, I think your cooking is going to make me fat."

Me: "Why are being so nice to me? What do you want?"

BN: (said to MHS) "Does she cook like this every night?"

MHS: nods and goes back to eating his meal.

Me: " I know that The Saint cooks for you every night. I don't know why you're making such a big deal."

BN: "All I know is your cooking makes me sleepy. Every time I eat here, I just want to lay myself down and take a nap."

Me: "That's the arsenic."

Today I made a plane reservation for The Biker Nazi to return home to Indiana. I think I'm going to miss the old goat. I mean, how can you not love a face like this:

WHAT IS A BANDWAGON? And why is it so easy to fall off?

I jumped on the traditional January bandwagon today………………..backwards. Technically, I guess I jumped off. At a time when millions are flocking to gyms and weight loss centers everywhere; I canceled my gym membership. Yes, I did. I walked in sans exercise equipment and signed my name on the dotted line. There is a thirty day notice policy in effect that allows me to continue not working out until February 15^th but officially, I am no longer a member.

You may or may not remember that my motivation for establishing this blog was to create a place where I could hold myself accountable by proclaiming my successes and failures publicly in my quest for better fitness, a more youthful appearance and most importantly arse removal. If you are a new reader or don't remember that post, you can click here to see what I had to say in my very first blog post. Since that time, I have posted about a few of my gym experiences, and discussed my diet regimen or lack thereof occasionally but for the most part, this blog has become more about my nonsensical life and all the joys that lie therein. I'm OK with that. It is what it is.

That being said, I still feel the burden that is finding the ever-elusive fit me, the healthy me, dare I say the smaller version of me that is out there somewhere, I just know it. Someone told me that they saw her at Whole Foods but by the time I got there, she was GONE! **sigh**

Here is the real deal:

• In the three years that I have been working out on a regular basis (with the exception of the holiday season this year) I have basically gotten nowhere. I lost and gained weight throughout and in the end can say with pride frustration that I am ten pounds lighter than I was when I started. Not good enough. I guess it's better than finding myself ten pounds heavier but three years! Come on!
  
• I want/need to find a diet that is as much about changing my eating habits as it is about losing weight. I have no interest in going on a temporary fad diet because history shows, the weight just comes back. I understand that in order to lose weight the caloric consumption must be more restrictive now and will loosen up a bit for a maintenance plan. I think I will be going back to the South Beach Diet because it's healthy and it includes all the food groups. I am a foodie and cannot will not cut any one food group out of my diet. SBD does restrict carbs but eventually you add them back in measured doses.
  
• My workout has become stale. I know that I enjoy classes more than working out independently but my old gym's class offerings didn't accommodate my schedule. It caters more to the stay at home mom, the senior citizens and the independently wealthy crowd. Every time they try to open an after-normal working hours class, it is poorly attended (meaning I'm the only one who shows up) and is eventually canceled.
  
• There is another gym near my office that offers multiple evening classes. It is a national chain. They have another location not too far from my house should the desire strike me for a weekend workout. The membership is the same price as my old gym. I'm not sure what the time commitment is.
  
• I have a treadmill in my bedroom that currently serves as a clothes hanger. The motor needs to be replaced. I can't imagine this repair would be too costly.
  
• I get the Fit Tv channel, I have a dvd player and I own several exercise videos. The problem with working out at home is that I always think that I will do it later and later never seems to happen.
  
• I've always wanted to be a runner but since our trip out West on the bikes last year, my knees have aged to 78 while I have only progressed to the ripe old age of none of your business. Osteo BiFlex wants to be my friend but I keep forgetting to take the darn pills.
  

I have to do something and it really should be now. Time is slipping by fast and it's already been over a month since I've exercised. Sadly my eating habits have gone to hell in a hand-basket too. It seems that the whole world is telling me to get up off my arse and just do it. People magazine showed three women on their cover that lost half their body weight. Thankfully, I don't have that much to lose. So why is it so hard for me to stick to a plan? I get at least 10 emails a day on my blackberry telling me to lose weight and exercise. Well, maybe not in those exact words.

Geri over at New Wrinkles did a recent post where she tells just how important exercise is to the aging process. New Wrinkles is a blog dedicated to giving important information on all sorts of health topics. It seems some people feel it's a better use of their time to actually give helpful information on their blog instead of the (almost) daily dose of silliness you find here. **wink**

So, peeps! Any suggestions? What's a girl to do? Are you frustrated too? Have you found the answer? I'm not talking resolutions here. What's your plan to get into shape? Or have you just decided that being fat and sassy ain't all that bad?

Oh and today I read over at Bear Naked that Physical Fitness helps your brain! SIGN.ME.UP! I need all the help I can get in that department. This case of Midlife Distraction is killing me.

PRETTY AS A PEACOCK

Sometime last week I stopped to get gas on my way to work. All the pumps were occupied so I pulled over in the parking lot to wait for an available pump. While I was waiting, I looked over to the pumps and this is what I saw.

I've seen these birds before at the station. It just never occurred to me to take their picture until I was telling a friend about them one day and realized that I always have my camera with me and should take a few pictures at the next opportunity. So opportunity knocked and I answered. There are actually three peacocks that hang out at this gas station but only two of them wanted to have their picture taken.

This guy seemed to like me and kept coming closer. He's quite a ham, don't you think?

He seemed to change his mind for a minute.

And then did an about-face and said, "OK, Smart Mouth, I'm ready for my close-up."

By this time, a pump opened up and son of a gun if he didn't follow me. Then the other two started to come over. While I was pumping my gas, they kept coming closer and closer. My car is quite bright and colorful. I think they may have thought I was a really big peacock.

THE BIKER NAZI MAKES FRIENDS

A little message to The Saint

Everyone is gone. It's weird to have an empty nest again. Oh, wait! I almost forgot that goofy looking handsome gentleman staying at the other end of the house in our guest room known affectionately on this blog as The Biker Nazi.

After more than a month of chaos, I didn't even leave my house the whole day on Saturday. I spent the entire day cleaning and resting, cleaning and resting. In fact, I didn't even get out of my jammies until about 4pm.

On Sunday, I was itching to get out and do something again. I suggested a bike ride might be in order and My Harley Stud and The Biker Nazi were more than happy to oblige. We set off for the historic district in Stuart. We had lunch at a locally owned sports bar (during the Dolpins game) and opted for the outside seating. It was a beautiful day. The food was great but the service was well….not so much. If you remember my earlier posts from our trip to Indiana, you know that poor service seems to follow The Biker Nazi. Or maybe it's just when he is with me. Anyway, it seems our very young server had a little too much party and too little sleep the night before. She had no problem in telling us this little tidbit though it became pretty clear as the lunch progressed. I may be showing my age here but my tolerance for poor customer service is at an all time low. Call in sick for Pete's sake. But if you're going to go to the trouble to show up, at least SHOW UP. And this concludes my anger management session for this post. (I just needed to get that off my chest.) MHS and BN weren't nearly as aggravated by the lack of service as I was.

After lunch, we decided to take a stroll through the shops in the historic district. I stopped to look at these in the window: (Psst! They are hand-made.)

Imagine my surprise to look up and see this in the window:
I realize the glare is pretty bad but you are seeing just what I saw: A Biker Nazi mannequin


BN kept disappearing into these cool little shops. Now if the man would have done more of this on our trip out West, my arse would have been a lot happier with him. We saw a welcome mat in this store that read: I like your underpants. (Get it?) Well, I thought it was funny.

That's an old theatre on the right that is still in business. The Three Rednecks were performing that day. We heard great things about them but didn't check it out.

We eventually made our way to the waterfront and a jazz festival which we found out is held the first Sunday of every month. I know where we'll be the first Sunday in February.

The music was great and the setting was perfect. Who knew the Biker Nazi likes jazz!

We're from Indiana. Now Hoosiers are known for their hospitality. MHS and I have just grown accustomed to the stand-offishness of the South Floridians. But the Biker Nazi knows no strangers. He considers it his personal obligation to see if he can make these cool cucumbers speak to him. On this particular outing, MHS and BN were attracting all the "older" women.

Here's the conversation I overheard while taking this picture:

BN-Cool! I just saw a stingray!

Older woman #1 - A stingray, really? Where?

Older woman #2 - Show us!

BN-Oh, sorry, he went under the dock. Stick your toe in the water. That'll make him come out.

MHS-smiles and remains completely silent.

OW#1-I'm not sticking my toe in that water. You stick your toe in the water.

BN-I can't. I don't have any toes. I lost them in a stingray accident.