Meet Ernest

Ernest is the fat, lazy datschound who has been staying with us since Thursday. We are pet sitting for a friend of mine. He's been pretty good (with the exception of one four-in-the-morning fiasco, when he was sent to doggy time out) and is a very sweet dog.

He's quite quirky, which makes him endearing. His only toy is this blanket:


Even though he's quite a tiny fellow, he drags this thing around the house. I've been impressed by his ability to manipulate something so much bigger than him. Also, he creates a nest and burrows inside it. If you look closer, you'll see the tip of his nose and paw on the right hand side:


Mostly he just sleeps, but I can tell he's sad and misses his family. They are coming to pick him up this afternoon, and I'm sure he'll be excited to see them.

New Job Anxiety

After tomorrow the summer officially begins for me, which means the start of my new job. I always have anxiety when I start new employment. I don't handle change very well, for starters. Plus, my perfectionist nature doesn't function well in a state of "I don't yet know what I'm doing, and that's pretty obvious to others."

This summer I have decided to become a writer. Some of you are laughing right now, thinking this is typical Katie sarcasm, but please try to stifle that giggle, because I'm being completely serious. I've always wanted to be a writer. I took a creative writing class at the end of my time at BYU, and got some positive feedback from my professor. I started a novel, and he volunteered to help me with it if I ever finish writing it. Since then, novel writing hasn't had a lot of room on life's agenda, which is why I opted not to get a summer job this year.

This summer I'm going to sit in front of a computer screen, and I'm going to try to write down one of the stories I've had swirling around in my head for the last few years. I've always wanted to write a book, and I feel like now's the time to give it a shot, before my future children come along and and are vying for my attention. What's scarier than me thinking I can accomplish this, is the fact that my husband has enough faith in my minuscule amount of creative writing ability to let me do this for the summer and be happy about it. In fact, he is encouraging me to do this. Bless his heart; he really does love me!

Anyway, over the last couple of weeks I've been having a tad bit of anxiety over starting my new state of "un-employment." I've been picturing myself staring at a blinking cursor for 2 months and ending the summer with nothing to show for it (except for the 20 pounds I will have put on after drowning my writer's block sorrows in hot fudge sundaes and Oreos). Part of me wishes I'd tried to find a position waiting tables at Chili's or Ruby Tuesday, so I wouldn't have to worry about it (then I reflect on my Ihop days, and realize that, no, that's a lie. . . no part of me REALLY wishes THAT).

Anyway, I figure if at the end of the summer I have a book, even if it's a book that no one will ever publish, and no one will ever read but me, I will have accomplished something great. I can cross "write a novel" off of my bucket list, and call it good. I'll know I'm just not cut out to be a novelist, and I can move on. But, until I try, I'll never know . . . so here's to trying.

Just When Everything Seemed Peachy

A teenager had to burst my bubble. This is what our car looked like at about 6:15 this evening:


My Mazda Bebe is dead, and I am very sad. I loved this car. The good news? Chad and I are both fine. The kid has insurance. It was completely unavoidable, since we were stopped at a stop light and he decided to forget how to use the brakes. Oh, wait, I mean, his brakes "didn't work" even though the officer on the scene seemed to find nothing at all wrong with them.

Tragic.

I'm looking forward to a lot of phone calls with insurance agents, paper work, and hopefully a rental car until ours is either repaired, or, if it is deemed totaled, replaced.

Although, I've got to say, it was pretty funny to hear the kid on the phone, "Yea, I just hit Miss Reese's car."

What a way to start the summer.

Because We Value Your Advice. . .

Well, 64% of you voted that we should, indeed, purchase a puppy. And of course, we couldn't disappoint you, readers, so we went right out and bought her.

OK. So, in actuality, much as we love you, you weren't really going to make this decision for us. See, it's great that you want us to buy a dog, but you're not the ones who are going to be paying for her, or picking up her poop, or buying me a new pair of shoes when she decides to devour my turquoise heels. Which is why, even though 64% of you were in favor of the puppy, we are still without puppy at chez Reese.

We wanted her. We did. But, the more we started thinking about it, the more we realized that the timing just isn't right. With me not working all summer, which translates to no money all summer, adding the expense of a dog while we try to replenish our saving account (something that's not looking as smashing as it once did after renovating our money pit), just isn't going to be the wisest idea. So. Don't fear, 64%, eventually we will add a puppy dish to our family, but for now we are puppy-less. Plus, we're kind of leaning towards a male puppy, after doing a bit more research about the breed which suggests the females have a bit of a diva/stubborn streak that the boys don't. So, come fall we shall see.

Since I know you are now terribly sad because there are no puppy picture updates to satisfy you, I've got a bit of a consolation prize. Go make yourself one of these:

It's called a pizzookie and you can find the recipe here.

My sister, Lauren, and I made these last night when I realized that the end of the school year is upon me and I have no grading to do at night. This means I can do irresponsible things that I only dream of doing during the actual school year (like make ridiculously rich desserts and watch a chick flick instead of grading or going to bed early).

After consuming one of these bad boys (Oh, who am I fooling? It was more like two due to portion size!) I'm pretty sure my blood sugar jumped a tad bit. In fact, I think I might now be a diabetic.

I made the hot fudge recipe that comes with it, but we used store bought vanilla ice cream and caramel sauce.

So there you go, chums, go mourn the loss of future puppy posts and tantalize your taste buds with this exceptionally yummy snack.

Puppy Dish?

Should we add this little puppy dish to our family?

Reasons for:

Love
Companionship
Cuteness Factor
Memories
(Responsibility)Preparation for a Child
Safety
Exercise
Very little pet odor (a perk with this breed)

Reasons against:
Poop and Pee
Loss of Freedom (Can't go where we want, when we want)
Cost
Responsibility (Let's face it, that's a pro and a con)
Possible Collateral Damage
SHEDDING

We just can't decide. Met her today, probably need to make a choice in a couple of days before someone else buys her. She's a pure bred Pembroke Welsh Corgi. She will be completely red and white when her coat fully comes in. Vote in the sidebar and help us with this decision!

What it Means to be a Dish

For a while now I have recognized that someone who hears my husband and I talking to each other in a grocery store might be slightly confused, and, in fact, will probably find us somewhat odd. A note we received from my sister, Lauren, solidified that what I thought was only a slightly odd thing about us has now escalated into a much bigger level of strange. Allow me to enlighten you, dear readers. This is how my sister's note to us began:

Dear Dishes,

Thanks so much for your thoughtful gift.

She then goes on to very sweetly thank us for the graduation gift we sent her way and closes with . . .

Love,
Lauren

To me, her salutation seems perfectly normal. To you, a feeling of befuddled puzzlement has probably come over you.

You may be feeling the same thing that my mom did when she recently visited. After a few days, she asked me, "Why do you all call each other dishes?"

Answer? I don't know why.

We just. Do.

Chad and I call one another "Bebe Dish," which I know is not your average term of endearment. It doesn't sound very romantic, and its origins stem from the documentary The March of the Penguins and a scripture in The Book of Mormon that describes a sailing vessel as "tight, like unto a dish." (It's a long story. Don't ask.)

"Bebe Dish" has evolved into a slew of other terms that mean nothing to the outside world, but do mean a great deal indeed to the Reese clan.

For example, it is now also acceptable to say "Bebe Fish Dish" due to a hasty text message in which Chad forgot to change the letter "f" to a "d." In fact, my homemade Valentine's Day card for Chad this year had a construction paper goldfish leaping from a purple dish, with the words "Bebe Fish Dish" announcing that the card was his. (I can't find it anywhere, or I would post a picture.)

Similarly, while a "Bebe Dish" is a term meant to address the one you have pledged to love for all eternity, a "Dish" can be anyone, or anything, doing something cute, or whom you love.

For example, on a spring evening, if I happen to drive up my in-laws driveway to find them romantically sitting together on their porch swing, I might exclaim, "Look at those cute, little Dishes!" A translation would be, "How cute that my in-laws have been married for 30 years and still sit together like crushing teenagers!"

Or, if I see Lauren, who I love to death, coming out of her house to meet me, I might say, "Hey there, little Dish!" A translation of this would be, "Hey, you're cool, I'm happy to see you, and I'm glad we're friends!"

What if we happen across a bunch of baby deer, frolicking in a meadow? Why, the remark, "Look at all the little dishes!" might be in order.

What I love about my family is the fact that our random dialect has leaked into our everyday language. I love how silly and fun we are. We are a family of nicknames. From Bear, to Duddins, to Puddins, to Booba, to Geeze, to Juuuuuuuuuu, to adding "wick" after everyone's name (due to the fact that my husband's first name really IS Chadwick . . . I'm not joking), unique and strange terminology is nothing new. A lot of families would probably look at a couple calling each other "Bebe Dish" and wish they didn't have the same last name. Ours has embraced us.

I know you are now shaking your head, wondering how you can possibly be friends with someone who is so random, and I don't blame you. But, try saying "Bebe Dish" aloud a few times, and I promise, you can't help but smile.

And then it was Spring . . .

OK- Better late than never. Here is the Spring Break blog I started forever ago that wouldn't let me post pictures. . .

Alas, today, while I was at work, I realized an entire month has passed with no blogging. Shameful. In case you're wondering, we are now living in our house. (The stove might still be in the middle of the kitchen floor, and we may only be able to shower in one bathroom, but living in our house we are.) We managed to get in just before my parents arrived for a spring break extravaganza. (2 days before, in fact. Wow. Talk about cutting it close.) Here are the details of the spring break festivities (most of which involve the creation of new words):

There was aquarium-ing. We went to the aquarium at Atlantic Beach and had a great time. I hate zoos, but I love aquariums. There's something so soothing about the dark, cool exhibits. My favorite were the otters--I fell in love.

Like father . . .

like son . . .

Charleston-ing, which included plantation-ing. We went to Boone Plantation. Life would be pretty hard if this was your house,


this was your driveway,

and this was your yard.

The grounds were beautiful and we had a great time. It was also fun to watch The Notebook again and see all of the places we recognized from our trip.

Jared and me on the ride around the plantation.

Of course, Charleston-ing wouldn't have been complete without some longing to live there because of houses like this:


And gardens like this:

Of course, I've always loved old houses, so a town like Charleston feels like the perfect fit for me. I called Chad the day we got there and informed him that we will be living there some day. It feels old and quaint, but still has this trendy, hip feel about the entire city. I think I could grow old there. Sigh . . .

Of course, a trip to Charleston wouldn't have been complete without a bit of ghost-touring:

I'm quite sad that mom didn't get a shot of our tour guide's face, so this one of his hands will have to suffice. I was petrified by the idea of a ghost tour. I don't do well with scary movies (picture me scared to walk across a room in the dark for at least a week after viewing), and one of my main causes for rejoicing about getting married was the realization that I would never again have to go to one of those stupid haunted houses/corn mazes on a date. My imagination is WAY too active to endure those kinds of things, so the thought of a ghost tour--not so appealing. They dragged me along, and the minute I saw our tour guide, I wanted to back out. He was one of the strangest looking ducks I've ever seen. Luckily, it turned out not to be so bad. It was mostly just interesting history about the "ghosts" who haunt the city. I kept waiting for someone to jump out at us, like they do in those corn mazes (that cause me to question--how do I KNOW this is an employee of this establishment, and not some loony who wandered in here with a REAL chainsaw?) but no one did. Phew!


After enjoying the city of Charleston (complete with some of the BEST Italian cuisine I've ever tasted), it was time to do some Cypress-Gardens Touring:



These beautiful gardens were the site where Noah takes Ally for a rowboat cruise through swan-filled waters in The Notebook. Warning: If you are an animal right's activist, I would not suggest going here. You'll find yourself realizing the probability of no swans being killed during filming in these alligator-infested waters is pretty much zero to none. That's probably why there wasn't a swan in sight. Reality is never as grand as the movies. We did spot a white egret, which was a bit of a treat:

You had two options: a self-guided, free boat tour, or a paid for tour guide to row you around. We opted for the free one. Dad and Jared agreed to row us. This proved to be hysterical, and I'm pretty sure mom and I should have been doing the rowing, as we were very bad back-seat rowers. "You're not doing it right! Jared, move your oar this way! No, Dad, THAT way!" I couldn't stop laughing, and the look on the face of the other boaters as we turned in circles and attempted not to run into trees was priceless. Once they got the hang of things, it was a peaceful ride.



This creepy critter was one of the ones we spotted on our cruise:

There were also beautiful walking trails, swings where you could sit and enjoy the scenery, and lots of wild life.



After a few days in the Charleston area we were able to meet Chad for the weekend at Myrtle Beach. There's nothing like some beach time. If only it'd been warm enough to play in the water. Oh well, maybe next time.



After a great week with Dad and Jared, they had to head home. We were lucky enough to have Mom stay for an extra week. Festivities while she was here, included lots of shopping. First thing on the list: rugs. With all the hardwood in this house, our footsies are going to get pretty cold without something more plush to walk on. We managed to find some great steals at a place my sister, Lauren, found called Ollie's. The only problem, the rug I wanted was at the VERY BOTTOM of a huge pile. My sister, Meredith, was with us at the store and the employees had us in stitches. They were hilarious. Here's a photo of them retrieving my rug.


I love how Meredith is helping them roll it up while I stand there and watch. Sorry, Geeze!

Mom and I also went to do a historical house and gardens tour in New Bern with Lauren and her mom, Beth. My favorite house, which wasn't actually part of the tour, was this one:



After renovating our house for the last seven months, I swore to Chad I had moved on from my fantasy of buying an old house and fixing it up. New Bern changed my mind. I've decided I could still do it. As long as we paid someone else to do all the work! I just love the charm of old houses. Either we're going to live in an old house, or we're going to have to build a new house that looks like an old one. It's just a given.

We also took Mom, along with Chad's family, to a Kinston Indians Game, courtesy of the little bank. It was a great night for baseball and there were even some killer fireworks at the end of the night.

Even in the midst of all of the two weeks of excitement, we still had time to do fun mother-daughter stuff like rent pointless movies and watch them. It was great having my family here for a while, even though it was very hard to say goodbye.

All this reminiscing about spring break is making me long for a longer vacation. In case you were wondering, Monday is now over. 17 days until summer!!!

Unsent Letters

Dear Piggly Wiggly,

While I was angry at you for not carrying fresh basil in your produce department (because really, you're a GROCERY STORE), I have decided to forgive you. Now my husband and I have our own herb garden. At first I was depressed, and wallowed in self-pity for a bit about living in a small town that doesn't believe we need fresh basil, but now I realize this is so much better anyway. I'm sorry for getting so upset, and I still like saying your name.

Sincerely,
A Forgiving Shopper


Dear Students,

I realize that summer vacation is calling your name. What I don't think you realize is that it is also calling mine. Let's hang in there together. Only 18 school days left!

Love,
Your Tired Teacher


Dear Joycious and Brucious,

Thank you for watching The Curious Case of Benjamin Button with me. While it was long, and slightly (OK, severely) depressing, I still enjoyed spending the evening with you. Thanks for being my family.

Love,
Katiewick (your daughter-in-law)


Dear Stove,

Wow. You are still in the middle of my kitchen. What's up with that?

Sincerely,
Disgruntled Cook


Dear Handyman,

I don't understand why you won't return my phone calls. Where did I go wrong? I always paid you on time. I know I asked you not to smoke in my house, but you seemed OK with that. Also, I loved your country accent, your friendly demeanor, and you are great at what you do. Who am I going to get to fix my counter top so I can move the stove out of the middle of my kitchen?

Yours Truly,
Out on a Limb


Dear Mom,

I miss you. Wish you could come visit again, or that I could come party with you, Arianne, and Anya. Don't go into too many shoe stores without me!

Love,
Your Daughter

Dear Sunshine,

You made my day delightful today. I wish I would have had more time to bask in your divinity, but I was teaching adolescents for most of the day. Only 18 more days, and I think we might be spending some more quality time together. =-)

Yours Truly,
An Albino who Longs for a Tan

Dear Krispy Kreme,

Can you ever forgive me? All those times I said I wasn't a doughnut lover, that I didn't like you, that the "hot" sign was not a temptation for me. Lies. All of it was lies. One American Cancer Society fundraiser at my high school convinced me that I could quite easily devour half a box of your glazed goodness. Stepping on the scale today has convinced me that it's time to hit the treadmill as a penance, but I think it was worth it.

Sincerely,
A Repentant Taster

Dear 17 Research Papers Waiting to be Graded,

I hope you're not crap. I really, really hope you are not crap. Not that I'm expecting the worst.

Sincerely,
A Reluctant Reader

Dear 12:49 a.m.,

What am I doing up?!?! It is most definitely time to go to bed!

Love,
Someone Who Has Too Much to Do to Sleep in Tomorrow!

Ugh.

I had all these wonderful intentions of updating my blog today, and it won't let me upload pictures. Sad day. Be expecting a Spring Break update soon. In the meantime, here's a story that will make you feel better about yourself:

Today, I went by the grocery store on the way home from work. After parking the car and getting out, I realized I forgot something in the car. I forgot that I was driving the Mazda and not the 4-Runner, and so when I tried to duck back in to grab it, I severely underestimated the height I needed to squat down to. Somehow, in a way that only a klutz like me can, I managed to ram my face into the door frame of the car, severely smooshing my forehead with my sunglasses. Well, it hurt, of course, but I'm used to causing myself bodily injury. I do it on a daily basis. So, when I realized no one had witnessed my embarrassing moment, I grabbed what I needed in the car and hurried into the store.

I finished my shopping.

I talked to the clerk.

I came home.

I bought candy from Landon, our adorable neighbor who was doing a fundraiser for school.

I ate a snack.

Chad came home.

His first words, "What did you do? You're bleeding."

Yes, I had been bleeding and had a lovely scab just above my eyebrows. Why? Because I rammed my face into the door frame of our car. Wow. Way to go, Katie. Sometimes, my clumsiness even manages to surprise me...

What Have We Been Up To?

Really, what haven't we been up to. The last few weeks have been a blur of activities--most of which have centered around home renovation, but not all. Let's start with the exciting things, and then we'll move on to the boring stuff. That way, if you get bored, you can stop reading.

The first weekend in March, Chad and I went to Charlotte. Chad attended a mini-lypse for i-Stock (the online company he uses to sell his stock photography). While he was taking pictures like this:

I was doing this:

One of my best friends from college just happens to now live in Charlotte with her husband and adorable little boy. Katy, Jacob, and I spent some quality time together on Friday, and Andy joined us for a trolley ride and trip to the children's museum in uptown Charlotte on Saturday. We had a great time. The Burches were the perfect hosts, and it was a blast catching up with Katy. Although, reminiscing with her did make me feel old: I realized our freshman year of college was SEVEN years ago. Wow. It feels like just yesterday we were doing crazy things like riding a greyhound bus to Las Vegas, watching Spanish soap operas together during lunch, riding our mattresses down the dormitory stairs, and sledding on pizza boxes on campus (just to name a few of the memories I share with la otra Katy.) I am so thankful for friends that you can be apart from for years, but when you get together your friendship feels the same.

The same weekend that we went to Charlotte, Santa decided to pay us a visit. "It's not Christmas!" you say? Oh, I fear you must be mistaken, because why else would a little gem like this decide to show up in our mailbox?

Yes, those are concert tickets, my friend. And no, you aren't mistaken, they most definitely do say COLDPLAY! Chad and I are going to meet one of my best friends, Lacey, for this concert in August. They're coming to Raleigh, and we'll be there. This was very exciting news since they are on my list of people to see in concert before I die. The only thing that could make this better would be seeing them in the UK, but hey, I'll take what I can get.

Of course, even when it's Christmas, we can't stop pretending to be on HGTV, so we've continued our own version of My Big, Amazing Renovation. If you've ever seen the show, you've witnessed the frustrations people go through while remodeling. I can't watch this show without shouting out a sympathetic, "I FEEL YOUR PAIN!" every few minutes. If we were on the show, our episode would look/sound something like this:

Katie: "Wow, this bathroom is really ugly."

Chad: "At least it's a good size."

Katie: "With a little updating, it might not be too bad."

Chad: "Katie, hold this mirror while I unscrew it, so we can keep peeling off the layers of wall paper stuck to the sheet rock while you try not to swear."

Katie: "Of course, darling."

Katie (after the mirror shatters all over the bathroom vanity and floor): "Are you OK?!

Katie, again (after noticing the interesting wiring that had been hidden behind the mirror): "Wow. That's up to code."

Katie (around the time that she foolishly thought she might be able to move into her house by Christmas. . . at this point in the show some dramatic music would begin playing, and the narrator would be saying something like "Chad and Katie are now ____ months behind schedule and $_____ over their original budget. In a moment of desperation, Katie has a tear-felt conversation with Chad"): "Let's hire someone to come finish part of the bathroom because I am going to have a nervous breakdown."

Chad: "Because you won't stop crying, I will let you continue to fantasize that we might be able to move into this house soon. You're wrong, but whatever you want to think is fine. We'll call the handyman to come knock some of this out."

Katie: "You know what sounds like fun? Being on my hands and knees for hours! Let's learn to tile our bathroom floor!"

Chad: "Nothing would thrill me more!"

Katie (after tiling for a few hours): "The lines aren't matching up right!"

Chad: "Some of these tile are different sizes."

Katie: "I don't care! JUST FINISH IT!"

(Flash to a few days later)

Katie: "Now that our tile job is done, and the grout makes most of our mistakes not noticeable, let's call a plumber to install a new toilet, without a sea-shell seat. He can also hook up our gorgeous new vanity from Home Depot."

(You've got to admit, folks, it DOES look pretty, darn good.)

Katie: "We will have to do something about the laundry area, because this is going to be an issue."

After handyman, sheet rock man, electrician, and plumber combine, this is the result:

Katie: "After we knock out the window air conditioning unit, remove the jungle vine growing into our house, scrape the popcorn off the ceiling, and paint the walls, this will make a great guest room."

Chad: "Agreed. Let's buy our paint from Lowe's."

Katie: "Let's go back to Lowe's, because the lady who mixed the paint and said, 'I hope this works,' clearly had no idea what she was doing, and our walls now look like a child has finger painted with chocolate pudding for a few hours.

(At this point in the show, there would be one of those dramatic fast-forward techniques used where you would see people going in and out of the room painting, but it would be like they were moving at 10 times the pace of a normal human. Then the room would magically look like the image below.)

Katie: "It would be a punishment to our child if we made him or her sleep in a room that looks like this."

Chad: "Agreed. Let's paint it and make it an office."

Katie: "You're a genius!"

Katie: "Wow, I thought wall paper was bad until I realized the agony that is sanding walls that have been sponge painted."

Katie: "Let's play a guessing game! How many coats of white paint will it take to cover this hideous, green trim?"

(I'm not sure, because I lost count at four.)

Katie: "Wouldn't it be a great idea to tile this room so it feels like an extension of the kitchen?"

Chad: "Because neither of us have tiled before, and we are stupid, I'm going to have to say yes!"

(Again, looks fabulous, if I do say so myself.)

Katie: "Remember that crazy lady at Lowe's who mixed the paint for the guest room? Well, it turns out she's not the only incompetent employee in the paint department. Let's run out of paint, so we can find that out."

Chad: "Great idea. Once they tell us they can match the exact color, and fail, we can repaint our den multiple times!"

Katie: "How grand!"

Katie: "Wow, now that the end is in sight, this looks like a completely different house!"

(Do our floors not look smashing?"

It turns out, our episode would have to be more than an hour long. So tune in later for a look at the finished product.

That's what we've been up to over the last little while. If you're not still reading, I understand!