Spicing things up.

I'm well aware that my blog has not been too exciting as of late. In fact, it has been downright boring. Travel plans and pictures of cakes aren't exactly topics that make you wiggle with anticipation.

So, I have decided that things need a little spicing up. The next question becomes, "How can I make things spicier?"

Then I remembered, my anniversary is right around the corner. And, while many of you know the abridged version of Annie Oakley meets Scoop Jackson (also known as the Rachel and David chronicles), I thought it might still be fun to do a little series about how we got together. Not only will this allow me to update more than once a month, but it should also work as an excellent service for all of you who have trouble sleeping - this might actually knock you out cold.

In all seriousness, though, sometimes we forget to remember the fun little things that "hooked" us at the very beginning of a relationship. Even though David and I have only been married a year, we've been together significantly longer and I don't want to forget those things that happened at the very start of our story. Honestly, I'm mere weeks away from marking my quarter-century point in life and I'm pretty convinced that, after this birthday, it's all downhill from here. In fact, I could be days away from dementia, so it's vitally important that I write this down.

But, before I begin, I owe all of you (okay, all five people that actually read this) a disclaimer:

This is not some tragic love story. Our story doesn't invovle fairytale love on the heels of some horrible event. And, it most certainly does not involve a giant, hulk of a man on a beautiful white horse sweeping some petite little princess off her feet. Shoot, my husband won't hardly touch a horse, let alone ride one. And, let's be honest, I'm the farthest thing from "petite" there is.

Still, we have a story. And, parts of it are funny.

More on that later....

I'm *cough* still *cough* here...*cough cough cough*

Ok - this time, I have a legitimate excuse for not updating. That's right - the flu finally caught up with me.

I'm not sure if it was regular flu, or of the H1N1 variety, but I was definitely out of commission either way. Last Wednesday, I came home from work coughing and feeling very, very cold. So, I decided to climb into to bed and watch TV for the rest of the evening, hoping to kick whatever it was that was brewing.

Unfortunately for me, that is not what happened. I woke up a few hours later, absolutely freezing and harboring a fever of 101.6. Thursday and Friday mornings, it was more of the same, so I called in sick to work both days to spare my coworkers from this nasty thing.

Of course, I did my best to pick a good time to be sick: David was gone and I was all by myself at home. That certainly makes it hard to run to the store for soup, jello and Diet Sprite.

I do have to say, though, this has been the strangest sickness I've dealt with in a long time. In fact, I can't remember the last time I had any kind of flu - it has been at least eight years, I'm sure. I had a fever, cough, my body ached and I was incredibly tired, but I was never sick to my stomach. Now that my fever has finally gone, I still have a terrible cough and congestion. Oh yeah - super fun.

My fever broke three days later - just in time for David's parents to stop by our place for a visit on their way back home from Denver. It was Denise's birthday on Sunday, so I made a big breakfast for John, Denise, David and I. I also made a big chocolate birthday cake.

This weekend, David and I are looking forward to a Halloween party at my coworker's house. For those of you that know us well, you'll enjoy our costume choice:

Eric and Donna from That '70s Show. Don't worry - I'll post pictures. We have yet to find the perfect wigs, but I think we're going to venture out tonight to see if we can find a long, red wig for me and a shaggy, brown wig for David.

After that, it's on to the next big weekend: Matt and Rachel's wedding on Nov. 7. David is heading home on Thursday afternoon and I'm going to head home on Friday. Then, depending schedules, I may be flying from home down to Oklahoma City for the AQHA World Show for work.

It's going to be a busy couple of weeks - I just hope my immune system can keep up!

Ideas, please.

Did you know that David and I have been married nearly a year? I can't hardly believe it myself. It seems like just yesterday that we were celebrating at our reception.

Just thinking about our anniversary makes me happy. Happy that David hasn't gotten bored with me. Happy to be so content with our life together. And, happy to be secure in the thought that there will be many more anniversaries.

However, the thought of our first anniversary also makes me a little sick. Yes - sick. I didn't stutter. Here's why:

David is an incredible gift giver. He's always been able to come up with amazing gifts for every occasion. He's always so thoughtful - and always gives gifts that I don't expect. It would be easy for him to ask me point blank and get whatever I suggest. Instead, he goes to the trouble of finding something amazing - and totally off my radar.

Not a problem, you say? Oh, trust me, it is.

It's a problem because I'm a TERRIBLE gift giver in every sense of the word. If I can think of anything at all, it is most likely completely ordinary and it is most definitely not exciting. Any gift I give David will be something that he's mentioned he might like to have a few times, and I can guarantee it won't be anything that he wasn't expecting.

In fact, David says he's already bought a gift for me (yes, several weeks ahead of time) and that one gift, specifically, is "wayyyyy cool" in his words.

How can I compete with that? I've tried to come up with things, but anything that happens to be exciting or unexpected that crosses my mind also happens to be close to a million dollars. Well, maybe not quite that much, but still relatively expensive.

So. That's it. I'm screwed.

Any good ideas for me?

Why do I have to come up with a headline anyway?

Sorry. One of the perils of working in public relations is that you have to come up with headlines on a daily basis. This wouldn't be so bad if I was good at it. Sadly, however, I'm not.

Thus, the headline for this post.

Anyway, I'll quit stalling - on with tonight's topics.

We're back to Nebraska again after another trip home. David and I decided this past weekend would be a good time to head home because....

Well, we didn't really have a good reason, we just wanted to go home. Kyle, David's best friend, was home for the weekend. David hadn't seen him since the wedding, so he wanted to make sure to see Kyle while he was in the area.

I was just along for the ride. Well, actually, I wanted to get home and see Grandpa. For those of you that don't know (I know I've made a few vague references here, but haven't posted anything detailed as of yet), doctors found a couple of tumors in my Grandpa Don a few weeks ago. The tumors were in his bladder and one of his kidneys.

After they found the first tumor, he had surgery so doctors could try to find out how aggressive the cancer was. The doctors don't seem to think it's too aggressive (and they completely removed the tumor in his bladder), but are waiting on tests to confirm a diagnosis and to decide whether to remove the rest of the tumor from his kidney or to just remove the entire kidney.

The last time I was home, the doctors had just discovered the tumor in his kidney, but hadn't operated yet, so it was nice to be able to go home (post-op) to see how Grandpa was doing.

Since many of you come from farms or farming families, I'm sure you'll understand that while the news from the doctors was somewhat positive, Grandpa is still a little down in the dumps. To prevent him from getting sick before another surgery, he's been staying at home, staring at the same four walls every day. For someone who is used to getting up and working outside every day, a TV screen and four walls have become pretty boring.

It's hard to see Grandpa depressed because I don't think I've ever seen it before - at least like this. I'll never forget the day my dad died. Grandpa met us at the hospital - he told us it was bad - and then he started crying. He was sad then, but it was a different kind of sad.

Don't get me wrong; I'm not saying that he's completely shut down to the world. But, it seems strange because it's so different from the "normal" Grandpa. Nearly all of my memories of Grandpa are of him smiling, teasing me or my sister, working outside, at the fair or busy in the kitchen. In fact, I can't think of one instance where Grandpa was sitting in a chair, watching TV for hours on end. He's always been so energetic and happy - and, at times, almost like a second father.

And, I'm sure that's why this seems to have been extremely hard for me, too. I know it's hard for everyone else - and maybe I'm selfish for not paying more attention or asking to see how the rest of the family is doing - but, I can't help it.

David keeps telling me everything will work out, and I'm going to stick to that thought, but I sure would appreciate your prayers anyway.

Being eight hours away from home - and not seeing your family on a daily basis - means that we couldn't just spend our entire weekend at Grandma and Grandpa's. We did spend some time with Kyle and his girlfriend, Katie. David also got to see his friend, Matt, while I spent some time at home checking out Mom and Chuck's new store and taking some pictures (big surprise, right?).

Mom and Chuck finally opened their store the last weekend in September, and while I was there on Saturday, they had several customers. For now, they're only open on the weekends, but after their open house on November 20, they'll be open during the week and on the weekends (yes, that was my shameless plug for their store - if you're ever in Clinton, drive the 15 minutes out to Chestnut to stop in).

Don't worry - I didn't limit my picture taking to the antique shop. You know I took pictures at the farm, too. This year's babies are growing up so fast - it really makes me wish I had more time to spend at home, riding.

All in all, it turned out to be a nice weekend, even though we weren't able to make the rounds to see everyone. But, Thanksgiving is right around the corner and we'll be home for a few extra days. Hopefully, we'll be able to squeeze everyone in!

Busy, busy, busy.

My apologies. I know it has been a few days since my last post, but it just seems like the last week or week and a half have been so busy. David and I were both on the road last week and when we finally got home, the only thing both of us wanted to do was sleep.

David had been on the road for the past two weeks, so he was just ready to be home. I was in Colorado picking up some stories for work, and it was cold and rainy the whole time I was there, so I came home sick. By the time we both got home, it seemed like we spent our weekend like dogs: eating and sleeping.

I was hoping to take some pictures while in Colorado - I mean, seriously, the state was meant for pictures. But, as I said, the weather turned out to be so nasty while I was there it just wasn't conducive to pictures.

Anyway, we made sort of a last minute decision to go home for the weekend, so David and I are both counting down the days until Friday.

David's best friend, Kyle, is going to be home and David hasn't seen him since the wedding. So, Kyle was reason No. 1 for going home. Then, of course, with everything that has been going on with my family in the past month, I decided it would be good for me to go home, too.

It will be another short weekend trip, but I'm looking forward to seeing everyone, checking out mom and Chuck's new shop and, of course, taking some new pictures. I'm hoping tht fall is finally in full swing at home so I can get some pretty shots.

And, speaking of pictures....the results are in. About a month ago, I decided that I was going to enter a photo contest put on by the Illinois Farm Bureau. It's for amateur photographers, so I should fit in nicely (seeing as none of my shots are anything too professional). There are three categories and a person may enter one photo per category - and the photos must have been taken in Illinois.

I don't have anything that I can enter for the "Kids and Critters" category (that is, unless I get something this weekend), but I do have pictures to enter in the "The Back 40" and "All in a Day's Work" categories. After asking around to see what pictures everyone else thought I should enter, the results were nearly the same:

The Back 40

All in a Day's Work

Of course, if you have a different opinion, let me know. Nearly any picture that would be eligible I have most likely posted on one of my blog entries.

So, that's the deal. I'm going to win.

Well, I suppose that's it for now. I had hoped something really interesting or some great insight would come to me while writing, but apparently, I'm empty for today. To be fair, the last two posts have been pretty insightful (yeah, I know - really humble, right?), so I think I'm entitled to a relatively mundane one this time.

Hope you all have a wonderful week!

What do I owe you for that?

You know, that little piece of advice you offered?

I feel like I need to ask my husband this question when he gets home tomorrow. David has been gone all week for work, and like usual, I've missed him something awful.

Obviously, I miss him in the normal, everyday routine. I don't enjoy fixing supper and eating it by myself, having no one to fight over the remote with or crawling into bed to go to sleep, only to remember that the left side is empty.

But, this week has been especially tough for me, which makes his absence even harder to swallow. Still, even from 400 miles away, he has a way of putting things in perspective when I can't.

Before I tell you why, I first need to launch into this:

I'm a pretty indepent person. I've always gone where I wanted to and done my own thing. Traveling doesn't bother me and I enjoy experiencing new things.

Nebraska has been a new thing.

Most of the time, I enjoy living in a new state and getting to do new things (and, sometimes, I even enjoy the distance), but not this week. This week, the only thing I've wanted to do is go home.

Because of a few things going on at home (for right now, I'll just say some unexpected medical issues with family - most of you that read my blog probably know anyway), I've had this overwhelming urge to just get in my car and drive. It doesn't matter that, as I sit here, the clock reads 10:08 p.m. I would still rather be in my car, driving.

I just need to be home helping with chores and running errands. I hate feeling helpless. And depressed. More than anything, I hate not knowing what's coming next. I think that started to happen after Dad died - it's one of those side effects that you just don't expect to have and it usually creeps up at the worst time.

But, as I mentioned before, David is able to put things back into perspective. And, I still don't know how. His week hasn't been great. In fact, it has been downright crappy. He has driven all over the place, forgotten the camera battery back here in Lincoln, survived a fight with a hotel desk clerk that said he didn't have a hotel reservation tonight (at the hotel that he was supposed to have a reservation at) and hasn't been able to use the internet all week.

However, during every phone call (or email on the rare chance that he was able to snag someone's wireless), he's been more than supportive and focused on me. He's reassured me that everything will work itself out. When I become Debbie Downer, he's forced me to take a good look in the mirror and re-evaluate (and, when he is getting ready to force me to take a good, hard look in the mirror, he prepares me for it by saying first, "Not to be an ass, but...").

And, so far, he's been right.

This week has been a rollercoaster of emotions for me, but he's been able long-distance manage it.

Things are still a little rocky, but with his support, I've been able to change my attitude this week. I'm still worried about the stuff going on at home - and terrifying thoughts still cross my mind. But, it's funny how a little bit of poking, prodding and some reassuring words from a very stubborn (and strangely optimistic) husband can help.

I suppose, for this one, I'm going to owe him big time.

All that lies in a memory...

For me, writing serves as a kind of therapy. I've never been good at expressing my feelings verbally. But, when it comes to a paper and pen - or in this case, a computer screen and keyboard - it always seems like it's easy to say what I need to say.

Today is one of those days where I need to use my keyboard and computer screen to say what I need to say.

I'm sure that I won't be the only person that sits down today with the intention of writing about their memories and the thoughts surrounding the events of September 11, 2001.

At least, I certainly hope that's the case.

I was in high school when the World Trade Center towers and the Pentagon were attacked and Flight 93 crashed. I remember hearing about the first plane to hit the towers as I was driving to school in my old pick-up truck. I thought, "Seriously? Some idiot just flew a plane into the World Trade Center?"

Then, after I got to school and took my usual seat in the commons next to my friends, I watched as a plane hit the second tower.

At that moment - when we realized that this wasn't some kind of terrible accident - I think our generation went from feeling innocent, protected and free to scared, confused and pensive about the world around us.

I'm not sure about my classmates, but the rest of the day, as I went from class to class, I realized the world we knew was gone and it would never be the same. For the first time in our lives, we literally watched as history unfolded in front of our eyes. The generations that came before use had experienced wars and conflicts - but, we never had.

As the day went on, some of our teachers decided to cancel the class work for the day and watch the television coverage with us. Others left the classroom TVs on as they went on with algebra or biology lessons. Others still decided not to watch the day's events unfold at all and continued on as if nothing had happened.

But, something had happened. It changed the way we thought, acted and felt about ourselves and our country. Time had stopped.

It seemed like everyday activities were hard to focus on. I remember going out to do chores after I got home from school. Instead of feeding horses or cleaning stalls, I stood there in front of the barn, listening to the radio, and I cried. I felt helpless knowing that there was nothing I could do for all of those people that had died - and all of the people still coming to grips with the fact that their loved ones weren't ever going to come home again.

But, at the same time, I felt proud. Seconds after the attack on each building - and even after they collapsed - firefighters, police and even civilians went charging back in to search for survivors. Strangers on a plane stood together and gave their lives so that more lives wouldn't be lost. Even as a member of the younger generation - and as a person that had never felt the sting of war - I knew that was something to be proud of.

I didn't know anyone that was killed in the World Trade Center towers, the Pentagon or Flight 93, but that doesn't mean that I don't still feel a special connection to each and every one of them. The civilians that died are still in my thoughts. Their families are still in my prayers. Those that died trying to save others or protect our country in the following months - and those that still serve in the armed forces - will always receive my gratitude and respect.

I'm not a New Yorker, employee of the Pentagon or family member of a person that was on one of those planes, but I'm still directly connected to the events of September 11 because I'm an American.

After eight years, I still feel the hurt every time I think about September 11. I still feel like my heart is being ripped out every time I see video footage of those planes crashing into the World Trade Center or the Pentagon, see pictures of the people jumping out of the towers and hear the voices from the passengers and crew of Flight 93.

I think, for the most part, every American feels the same way I do - regardless of political party, religion or social station.

We have not forgotten, and I pray to God that we never do. It's our duty to remember those that perished and cherish - yes, cherish- the memory of that day. It's hard, but it's something that we must do. It's our defining moment and our greatest hour.