Happy Birthday to Me!

Bristol Motor Speedway is the mecca of Nascar racing. For those of you out there who don't like Nascar racing or don't understand Nascar racing, skip this post; return later for a non-Nascar-related post. For those of you who consider Nascar a competitive sport, happy reading. I have been a huge Nascar fan for as long as I have been with DH. About ten years ago, we started going to the Atlanta Motor Speedway for the fall race. Been to Charlotte Motor Speedway for the longest race of the season. Even had garage passes a few races and been so close to Dale Earnhardt, Jr. talking to Michael Waltrip I've seen the blue in their eyes.

But it all paled in comparison to Bristol Motor Speedway. I've known people who have Bristol tickets. I've longed to go to Bristol. But, you see, if you follow Nascar, you know how hard Bristol tickets are to come by. When DH saw the commercial way back in February that said not only tickets to the spring race at Bristol were on sale, but also tickets to the Sharpie 500 Bristol night race were on sale, he turned me loose with his credit card blessings. And far be it from me to disobey DH...especially when a credit card purchase is at stake.

Those of you who know me in real life know I can justify anything. Those of you out there who need something justified, I'm your girl. But these are tickets that haven't even been available to the general public for over eight years. There has been a waiting list to get on the waiting list to get these tickets. Then, to see the commercial, it has to be fate. And so close to my birthday...even better. DH came up with the best birthday present in the history of the world. Chop it up to the recession that we're in, but now that we are Bristol season ticket holders, we have first chance at them from here on out. This time, we took two fiends. In August, we're taking OC and YC. NEXT March, The Dude, DH, and two of their friends are going. Not that we're planning or we're excited or anything.

So last weekend, in the midst of the Midnight drama, we left for Bristol. And the weather was beautiful. And the race was wonderful. And the company was wonderful. And then we drove all night after the race and I realized once again, that I am not, by any stretch of the imagination, a night person. I was a zombie all day Monday and most of Tuesday. But now I can say I've been to Bristol; and I plan to be back for a number of years to come. Perhaps even taking my grandchildren to the coveted Sharpie 500. All because DH said yes.

Oh Christmas Star of Midnight

It's been a sad week at our house. Our beloved Midnight had to be put to sleep. Our beloved Midnight that was DH's Christmas present our first Christmas as a married couple. Our beloved Midnight who we have had longer than our children. Our beloved Midnight who has been there through welcoming two children home from the hospital, three moves, countless camping trips, numerous swims in Lake Lanier, and more chewed up tennis balls than I care to count.

We knew then end was inevitable; how many people can say they've had a dog live to be sixteen years old?! But I had complete and utter confidence in our vet and she assured us we would know when it was time. But even through "Snowstorm '09" she was out walking around on the deck trying to eat the snowflakes. She still barked when Spencer barked (whether she could actually hear the doorbell ringing, or knew Spencer was barking so she needed to bark we will never know), she wagged her tail when we came home. Walked around the yard and garage with DH because that was their special time. She wasn't in pain and she didn't suffer.

So in the midst of all the fun we had this weekend, it was bittersweet because a member of our family is gone. Already this week, I can't count the times I've been outside calling the dogs back in and almost called for Midnight. Or done the "dog count" and been looking for #3 when I saw only two. I'm sure there will be many, many more times to come when I call for her, or listen for her bark when Spencer is barking, or think of her when I see a tennis ball lying around.

So thank you, Midnight, for being our loyal, loving companion. Thank you for staying with me during Snowstorm '93 and '09. Thank you for sitting up with us countless nights rocking sick babies. Thank you for welcoming The Dude home from Iraq. Oldest Child thanks you for eating all those vegetables she told us she ate so she could get dessert. Thank you for helping me learn to stay home by myself at night when DH worked night shift....when you barked, you meant business and I'd better get up and see what it was. Thank you for being the best dog a person could ask for.

The Early Bird Gets...

...killed. Case in point:

This morning, on the way to church, these were beautiful, daffodils...in full bloom. Now, after 7 continuous hours of snow, this is what I'm left with. I love it when my daffodils bloom; it means I've almost survived the winter and it is almost time for spring (which just happens to be my favorite season). But, if it has to snow, there are three positives to the day: (1) school has already been cancelled for tomorrow, (2) DH is calling out tonight so he doesn't have to go to work and can be home to enjoy the fun with us, and (3) it's perfect snow capable of making snowballs and snowmen. And riding four-wheelers: OK...now go up and look at the 4-wheeler picture.