We even found parking up close — it felt like the planets had aligned!!

Then THEY came into the theatre…

A big, spread-out family who sat beside us and behind us.

The father endeared himself to me (NOT!) when, during the previews, he came to have a long discussion with his wife in the row behind us. Then I watched him take the gum out of his mouth and press it on the chair in front of his knees. Karma got him though — this was the very same chair that his dear, darling daughter sat in later.

Then during the first few minutes of the movie… it started. The munching and crunching. The mother, who was sitting directly behind The Boy, started eating her popcorn. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem, but “Mom” chewed like a goat… open-mouthed and L-O-U-D! And this wasn’t some tiny little box of popcorn — you could’ve bathed a small child in the bucket!

Then there were at least twelve trips back and forth across the aisle in front of us by various members of the family. Now… having a small bladder myself, I’m a little sympathetic… but the twelve trips were done by four people, which meant that either they need to spend some serious time with a urologist, or they were just plain unable to sit still long enough to watch the danged movie!

Then the talking started.

Grampa and his very young — too young for this movie! – grandson couldn’t seem to follow the plot, so they talked… and talked… and talked! They were somewhat quiet, so I could tune them almost totally out after a while, but the occasional humming the grandson did managed to break through every once in a while.

I can’t tell you how many stink eyes The Hubster turned their way… and they never seemed to get the hint.

But the worst?

That was the two young, teen girls who sat in our row… the one with the still-warm gum on the seat.

And they talked… and they squealed… and they questioned or commented on everything.

I asked them to be quiet about 20 minutes in and they looked at me with surprise. Like they didn’t realize that there was anyone other than them in the theatre.

During a major scene that was scary and weird and wild, they got so agitated they were screaming AND talking with no regard for the movie or the rest of the audience.

That’s when I actually yelled at them. “Seriously, girls. STOP TALKING. BE QUIET!!!”

They did… for a few minutes. And their talking for the rest of the movie was a little less awful, but still annoying.

Which made me fantasize about that scene in Scary Movie where the audience kills the annoying girl with the cell phone.

Not that I’d want to kill them… but I did seriously contemplate leaving my seat to get the manager to escort them out.

Worst of all?! They had the balls to give me the stink eye on the way out. I tell ya… I had to work hard not to vault myself over the railing to pummel them into sticky goo. I just returned stink eye for stink eye and they were eventually distracted by something else and walked out.

Seriously?! Isn’t it bad enough that people text — or open their phones in a dark theatre — six or seven times during a showing? Can’t they “unplug” from technology or social interactions long enough to actually take in what a good director and a team of skilled actors and technicians has put together for them? Can’t they find something better to do with their $8 than to come to a movie they have no real interest in — CAN’T THEY GO SIT IN THEIR OWN LIVING ROOMS AND HAVE DISCUSSIONS?!

Sheesh.

Anyway, it made me think of this report… and the funny, and biting way they got back at a patron who felt her needs were greater than the rest of the paying customers at the theatre where she couldn’t resist texting, despite the posted information about their policy of escorting people from the theatre if they disturbed others with their behavior.

Best attempt at a movie theater to stop talking/texting ever!

Gotta love karma — she make work slowly, but she sure does have a great sense of humor when she does!

The Boy is officially off for summer vacation, having finished his last final exam an hour ago.

Since then, he’s terrorized Rosie by firing at least a hundred rounds from the Air Soft rifle he bought off of the Step-son. (Now I know why Manny was so keen on the thing leaving her house.)

He’s also begged for re-instatement of his video gaming rights.

Oy!

Fan-frickin-tastic!

It takes a while to get going, but once it does, I found it both moving and thought-provoking.

I would answer as many of those who were interviewed answered: I don’t have one.
I lived as I needed to in order to become the person I am now.
I learned from the things that I’ve done. If I did them differently, I might not have learned the lessons my mistakes taught me.

Plus, the biggest lesson I learned was from my mom when she was very sick — Don’t postpone your joy!

I’ve pretty much always lived that way, but having her put it into words has made it something that is now written on my heart.

So, how would YOU answer the question?

And all of this done with six trips up and down the stairs to let dogs outside and back in; lather, rinse, repeat.

I also checked my email and came across this little “fridge organization” video from the Johnson “A Family Company” Company:

Guess I better go move my milk… :/

And I think I’d better go find some freezer tape, as my leftovers never have markings on them of when I put them in the fridge. (My freezer bags get written on with Sharpie markers, but the containers… nada.)

I’m also out to buy a vacuum cleaner — and I will grumble the whole time about how “they don’t make ‘em like they used to.” My *first* vacuum lasted for years and years and years. Since then, I’ve gone through three in less than 7 years… and it’s not like they’ve gotten any less expensive!!

Of the three we’ve had, the Hoover did the best, so I’m going with Consumer Reports on this decision and getting the WindTunnel Rewind at Target.

Not only will I get 5% off because I have a Target Visa, but I have an Rx reward for getting my prescriptions at Target, and this will save another 5%. Plus I have a $5 gift card.

They’re practically GIVING it away!

Let’s just hope that *it* doesn’t kick dirt into my eye like the broken one I attempted to fix this morning. I still don’t think I have all the grit out of my eye… and it’s itchy!

Well, after a harrowing trip to support my loved one, I flew home and texted my beloved from the gate — “Honey, I’m HOOOOOOME!”

In reply, I got: “Running late. Be there in 30 mins.”

Um… okay. Not cool, but — after what I’ve been dealing with — I’m so danged glad to have my dear, darling, wonderful husband, I wasn’t about to complain.

And I DEFINITELY didn’t complain when I saw his car pull up with my brand, spankin’ new bike secured to the back!

He’d worked miracles, bribed a few Target employees, and raced to pick it up in time to greet me with it.

Ain’t he the best?!

And ain’t my new bike cool? I think I’ll call her Lucy!

Um…. HECK YEAH!!!

I had barely a passing knowledge of who Capucci was, but I’d seen a few of his pieces at various points in my life and knew the show would be worth the $25 ticket.

Little did I know just how wonderful it would be!

Or how I’d leave the PMoA feeling like I’d had a big hose hooked up to my brain, pumping inspiration and delight into every cell in my body!

It was nothing short of awe-inspiring!

Seriously?! This dress… after seeing it, I couldn’t speak –couldn’t form words! Once I realized that the black and white was not fabric, but ribbons woven into not only the fabric’s design, but the garment’s shapes themselves… I was rendered dumb.

Unbelievable!

And the layout of the show was wonderfully done, though I wish I could’ve seen the garments in motion, because that’s how they all must truly shine.

I can’t tell you the number of times I heard other people turn from one stunning garment to another with a huge intake of breath and an exclamation of “OH WOW!”

As a former costumer, I was floored by how divine the construction was of each piece. I was able to lean in very close to admire the stitching and the immaculate pattern-drafting, the shapes, the tricks, the interfacings that had to be there to make the forms stand out — to breathe life into silk.

Ohhhhh… the siiiiiiiiilk!

The colors, the weave, the crispness. I literally found myself drooling. (And Manny caught me wiping it away from the corners of my mouth!!!)

Yes… this show was most definitely worth the $25 ticket price.

PS – we saw the very last showing of the last day of this exhibit. I’m not sure if it’s a traveling exhibit or if it will come anywhere near any of you, but I can highly recommend it! Definitely visit the first link to the PMoA site and view the various slideshows (from which I captured the images used in this post.)

a few brief, unterrupted breaths where he is the focus of my attentions. Where the camera is turned on him for once.

And then… DUN DUN DUUUUHHHNNNN!

From out of nowhere…

…he is viciously attacked by the Shadow Creature of DEATH!

Eat hot death, Maximus!

Which means there must be a huge wrassle and full-on chase aroung the yard!

To which Miss Kenzie pays little attention.

Especially not once Momma turns the camera on her.

Good dog!

Figures, I’m headed out of town until Saturday and will miss them as they really start to sing!

The Knockouts are all but done at this point. They still have color and zing, but the blooms are almost totally blown.

The New Dawn roses, on the other hand, are at their very peak — and it’s breathtaking!

Not to mention the overwhelming smell of roses in the backyard. It’s enough to knock your socks off!

I think I may like these roses best when they are still in a tight bud — they look so sweet and innocent!

By the time I come home to them again, they will have begun to brown and petals will litter the ground at their feet.

*sniff*

But he sure is a wrassler!

These two dogs are relentless when it comes to playing. I’ve never seen such dedication! They’ve literally worn a path in the grass between the two houses, and there are as many crumpled plants thanks to Max as there are from Rosie.

And, like the TV kids of 50′s sitcoms, they go to each other’s houses and holler, bark and beg for the other kid to come out and plaaaaaaaaay!

“We do. We really, really do!”

Such buddies!

They love nothing more than to run around the lawn, zipping between the two yards, and threatening to knock over whatever fencing the neighbors or I put up to guard our fledgling veggie gardens.

But they can’t help it — they’re in L-O-V-E!

And didn’t Rosie get big over the winter?

As did the hostas and day lilies in the backyard:

I love that this whole side came out of one of those boxes they sell at Sam’s Club — for $13! And, just three years later, it’s a lush bed of greenness that is ready to be divided. (Not a job I’m looking forward to!)

And what Manny has dubbed “The Hubster’s Corner?” It looks fabu! In fact, it’s terribly sad that this is so hidden from view. Almost no one gets to see it — even us, as it’s tucked away in the backyard behind the house. Unless I make a point of walking over there, I rarely have the chance to admire it.

I really need to admire our handiwork more often. I think I tend to obsess over the poor state of our roof, or the fact that the battery in the lawn mower is fraying my last nerve… rather than enjoying what ten years working on the gardens has given me. Not only do I get to be outside when the weather is lovely, but I get to see the world from an angle most don’t check out. I get to listen to birdsong, and see critters, and feel the breezes on my skin. I get to wear a big straw hat and yummy-smelling leather gloves. And I am allowed to get filthy — horribly, awfully, delightfully dirt-covered. Then I enter the house through the garage, right into our laundry room, where I strip down to my skivvies and dump everything into the washing machine.

Then I get to horrify my 15 year old by streaking through the house on my way to get a shower.

And there ain’t nothing better than making a teenager cringe and wail in despair!