Mis(s?)pell

I have something to share. It may offend some of you. I am a spelling freak. It really bothers me when someone posts a facebook status with errors. I could cry. Mostly for them.

I have always been astounded at the number of people that misspell the word definitely. D-e-f-i-n-i-t-e-l-y. These are a few of the ways that I have seen it written:

• definately
• defiantly (totally different meaning)
• definetly
• definitly
• definatly

So I saw a posting this morning that got me thinking about it and I did some research. I looked up the most commonly misspelled words in the English language, and some of them were quite funny. For instance, Misspell. The word itself is the answer to the question. And of course, definitely definitely made the list.  It's a hard truth, but sadly, not every word can be as easy to spell as 'Turf '.

I love you all in spite of your spelling mistakes :)

Ch-ch-ch-Changes

Ah, change. The reason life is interesting. The winds of change have been threatening to blow for the Burgess' lately, and as of tomorrow, they will be officially. Robin is starting school! What kind of school, you ask? Well Poker Dealing school of course! Some of you may find this an interesting career choice, but to me it makes perfect sense.

Robin is completely mathematically minded. In the extensive interview process for this position he was asked to complete a page of math problems. And he did complete them. In his head. The interviewer was so impressed with the fact that he hadn't written anything down and when asked about it Robin said, "I didn't realize that I was allowed to...". Man, it's a good thing that opposites attract because I do not work that way. Not only would he be able to split a pot (of poker chips in a hand for those of you not up on poker lingo) like a madman, but he also has an arm span to rival an orangutan. This means that he is perfectly proportioned for raking chips...what a proud wife am I :)

That said, My husband is off to his first day of school tomorrow. While this means a wonderful step for our family, it also means that he will be spending 3 nights a week away from home. An adjustment for both of us to be sure. I thought that I was dealing with the prospect very well until this evening in fact. My good friend Leslie's birthday party.

A rather large group of us went out to dinner to celebrate. Upon seeing how the restaurant was set for us (2 tables) all of the women decided we should split into guys and girls. A fine idea in theory...except when I start sobbing all over the pretty white table cloth. They all looked at me a little funny until one of them realized the reason for the crocodile tears. "Oh, Rachelle, I'm sorry. Robin could come sit over here if you want." "No," I say,"really I'm fine." Then they asked when I would get to see him again to which my reply was, "Tomorrow." a few giggles," I know it's silly because it's only one night (He left right after dinner) but it's just what saying goodbye tonight represents." That's right, CHANGE. Something that I have never been good at dealing with.

Now, I don't consider myself a dependent person. I enjoy time alone, and I get a lot done. Once the goodbye is said, I don't have too much issue filling my time. But there is something sad about coming home to an empty, quiet house and knowing that you will be going to bed alone.  Once you are used to a warm body beside you in bed, it's hard to give that up. One redeeming thing is that I have a couple girlfriends that are going through the same thing. It's nice to have someone that understands.

I've come to realize that this will be a time of seeking the Lord for strength. To know that his will is perfect. That he has a hope and a future for our lives. I find comfort in that.

My friend shared a verse with me last week that has been a continued comfort. An old favorite.

Psalm 23

The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing. 

He makes me lie down in green pastures (not like turf which is scratchy)

He leads me beside quiet waters

He refreshes my soul.

He guides me along the right paths for his name's sake

...my cup overflows

Surely your goodness and love will follow me 

all the days of my life

And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever

Thus begins the ushering in of a new era for the Burgess'.

Triumph! It tastes so sweet.

I have always wanted to be the woman that recycled.  I have a friend that does it religiously and I can't help but admire her. I have always wanted to be the woman that brought my own mug to a coffee shop. I would like to save a tree. I wouldn't say that I am an aspiring tree hugger, but I do believe that these and other choices lead to an all around healthier lifestyle. I have always wanted to be the woman that didn't spend money and waste water on grass (wait, I do that:)  But I never have been that person. Until now.

I drove to Safeway in Salida today, not because I can't go shopping in town, but because our grocery store has nothing. If you have ever been in it, it is probably the size of my living room. That is not an exaggeration. The produce section in its entirety could fit in my refrigerator. I was shopping last week with my friend Leslie (the one who recycles) and we stopped into Safeway. I walked in those beautiful automatic shiny glass doors and, AAAHHHH!, gazed upon their bountiful selection of fruits and veggies. From that moment on, I was sold.

So back to my shopping of late.

I pull into the parking lot of the store, get out of my car, go around to the hatch and actually. . . get this. . . I actually grab my reusable bags! ME! I did it. The task that has been daunting me from the beginning of time. I continue my march to the store grasping my crisp seldom-used bags.

After I had filled my cart, I stopped at the Starbucks and my second tree-hugging-phenomenon came into play. I had remembered my travel mug. As I proudly handed it to the barista he said, "Would you like your tea in here?" "Yes," I answered triumphantly, "yes I would." So I proceeded to the checkout holding my mug of tea like a beacon of hope.

As the checker began to scan my beautiful produce, I noticed that it was headed straight toward those convenient memory-proof plastic bags and I started to panic. I fumbled around a little bit and finally shoved my reusables at the poor woman and said, "I'll be using these today." "Great." She replied unenthusiastically, not giving me the credit that I felt I deserved. I should at least get a gold star or something with all of the over-exertion. But I was ecstatic nonetheless as my things were loaded, and I smiled a huge smile at the woman and told her to "Have a GREAT day!".

So I exited the store for the first time feeling the joy and satisfaction of accomplishment! I'm just glad that I have done something for the environment besides not watering my turf.

Turf and a Dog that Poops

Yes, I started a blog. Though I may not have the most interesting life, at least it is not monotonous. While my husband tries to keep things together and sane, my lovely coffee-table-chewing-crazy-sweet-puppy Bella keeps things interesting.

You may be wondering about the title of my blog...no, I do not think that things cannot get any better (although they are pretty amazing), and no, I do not have any well-kept secrets on gardening. Well, kind of. I have TURF. Yes, a turf lawn. I have actually had people stop their cars and ask me what I do to keep my lawn so green. I tell them that I am just that good. It does begin to look a little strange around October and on through the winter months, but I love it because it is low maintenance. All I have to do is break out the rake every couple weeks. Ah, the beauty of having a dog.

My husband Robin is NOT a dog lover. Au contraire. I had to talk him into it. A lot. He finally broke down and I drove to Brighton to a shelter and came home with a seemingly helpless 9 wk old puppy. She was probably the cutest thing I had ever seen (minus a small percentage of babies). He told me from the beginning that he would not be party to any poo raking or bagging, and let me tell you, he has held true to that statement.

Therefore, I am the sole doody picker-upper. My favorite job.

On a side note, don't you love it when you can tell that a dog is dreaming? Bella is lying on the couch next to me twitching. I think she is dreaming about running. Or maybe pooping. I think that's a strong possibility since that is her favorite activity.