Thank You for Blogging (w/me)

During the past month I received a thank you for blogging award from Mel @ ChinkyMel's Corner and Krissy @ I am krissy . That meant a lot because they are both great people, great bloggers and two of my favorites! Mel was the first blogger I followed and my first follower--I had practice "following" her on other sites. In fact, I'm not sure why she still talks to me after the way I stalked her here from those other sites!!! (Hi Mel, it's me again!!!) =)

Of course, I'm not really sure why I have any readers/ commenters/ followers. But I know I really appreciate all of you and I appreciate being accepted into this community! From day one my profile has said I like to go my own way and avoid groups. But not this group. There are so many wonderful people here who gladly share their humor, experiences, advice, encoragement, etc. and I am very happy to be a part of it. I wish I had met people like you when I was still little and cute and trying to get myself adopted into a new family--preferably rich, but that was always negotiable. LOL!


I truly thank all of you for blogging and pass the award onto each of you.








But I also want to give a special thanks to the people who have been my most consistent readers this year. In no particular order (other than alphabetical), they are:

acutelife
Ailee
Ambiguous Angel
applepie
Blair
ChinkyGirLMeL
Christy
eQ
krissy ♥
Kym
Leah
LOLanne
Manju
Michelle
nitiamonto
Russ
Shibby
Thanh Thao Lam
the girl in stiletto
Toothfairy

Blog Award

eQ @ Misguided Me and Shibby @ Shibby’s Thoughts were both kind enough to pass the "shoulda been a stripper" award to me. So, just for the record, I didn't create this one. I only received it. LOL! With this one you are supposed to share seven personality traits. I guess technically I should do 14, but I'm stopping at seven so the post won't be tooooo long.

1. I’m an outgoing introvert! I like talking with people and meeting new people, but I also need alone time at the end of the day. Just an hour or so—I don’t want to be a hermit!!!

2. When I get home from work during the winter I frequently change immediately into my flannel pajama pants, a tee-shirt, and settle in for the evening.

3. I have fewer wants than needs now. I stopped paying attention to advertising (including the sale inserts that come in the Sunday paper) so if there’s something new, improved and fun out there, I am the last to know. But if a friend tells me something is great, I want to try it.

4. My wife thinks I’ve become too trusting because I want to give people the benefit of the doubt and believe that people can change.

5. I try to be thoughtful and polite—unless I know you don’t deserve it. Then I ignore you. Unless you are a huge jerk, then I am likely to make fun of you. (See #4, it takes a lot for me to get to this point).

6. I’m funnier with people I like and people who know me. Shared experiences are a comedy goldmine! Sometimes I joke too much.

7. I always try to do the right thing. Since people frequently disagree on what’s right, some people like me and some think I’m a jerk!

I’ve got more to share. I could go to 14. But I guess it would be better if I save that info for future posts.

Oh, eQ added a little extra to the award by sharing a formula to determine your stripper name. You start with the name of your first pet and add the name of the street you grew up on. I really don't like my name--Spot Molly, but it's what the formula gave me. Yes, I had a dog named Spot! Well, it could have been worse. If things had happened in a different order I could have ended up Lady Chatham. LOL! Lady was a dog too.

PS - I would love to know more about all of you, so I'm passing this award on to everyone who reads it.

Yellow does not = Hello

One of my brothers answers the phone by saying "Yellow". I dont know where he picked that up, but that's not what this post is about. A long time ago the Toothfairy tagged me in the color game. She picked yellow--because she knew it would be difficult! LOL

At first I thought, "I can't do this. I have NO yellow stuff." But then I started noticing things around the house. and in the (back of the) closet. So here goes:

This belonged to my grandfather--on the Irish/English side of the family. I have no idea what it is or if it has any special significance, other than belonging to my grandfather.

These are my two honey bears. I drink honey-lemon tea when I'm not feeling well. Why two bears? The big one sits in the front of the cabinet and gets used for lots of things. In case we run out when I need tea, I have the small secret honey bear in the back of the cabinet. The small bear's name is now Shirley since honey-lemon tea is one of the Toothfairy's favorites. There's no resemblance! =)

One of my ancient Xmas decorations.


A reliable tool to light my way in the dark--but I still could use some help with that!

A dress shirt from the back of the closet.

A casual shirt from the very back of the closet.

A tee-shirt with a yellow Smithsonian sunburst on the back (yes, it really is yellow).

Well, that's seven. It wasn't easy for me or interesting for you, but I'm glad I was able to complete the tag because it was nice to be thought of for the tag.

Christmas Decorations--and Bandit

This tree-topper is a family heirloom--it's the one with real Santa whiskers (from one of his haircuts). It is really old! It's also my favorite decoration.

My favorite way to view the Santa is with the tree lit, the house lights off, a fire in the fireplace, and Christmas carols playing softly in the background. It's a nice atmosphere to think about the true meaning of Christmas.

My daughter called these "mishmas mecarations" when she was two.

The carolers decoration is another oldie, but goodie!

This is the last picture of decorations. There's a sleigh and reindeer set missing. Maybe next year!

Bandit doesn't like snow and he does not have the helpful instincts of a St. Bernard!!!

The snow is gone already and the decorations will soon come down,

but the feeling of the holiday should stick with us year-round.

PS - I've recorded a few songs just for my friends. For $5.99 you can download "RicAdeMus sings Xmas classics" and I will give you the blues for free--my singing always gives people the blues!!! LOL--I know, bad joke. I blame the girl in stiletto for inspiring it! Thankfully there are no recordings.

Merry Christmas to all

Christmas time is here, happiness and cheer,
fun for all, that children call
their favorite time of year.

Snowflakes in the air, carols everywhere,
olden times and ancient rhymes
and love and dreams to share.

Sleigh bells in the air; beauty every where;
yuletide by the fireside
and joyful memories there.

Christmas time is here; we'll be drawing near;
oh that we could always see
such spirit through the year.

"God bless us, everyone!"

Forgive me for mixing Dickens and Charlie Brown.
My only excuse is that it's Christmas!

I was going to write something silly to close this out, but not today. Instead, I'll wish you peace, love and happiness. =)

Rick

Unwanted Gifts

Have you heard of duckpin bowling? It uses 10 pins, but they are much smaller than regular pins and the balls are smaller. They weigh about 5 pounds and have no holes for your fingers. You hold them like a softball. Aside from the size, the big difference is that you get a 3rd throw. Because of that, duckpin bowling balls are bought in pairs. If you don't get a strike or a spare, you get to throw another ball to try to get more pins. It's a more frustrating game because you can throw the ball right down the middle and only get two pins. And your next ball can go right through the hole left by the first one.

Now that you know something about duckpin bowling, this story is really about a past Christmas present. I used to bowl in a league with my mom--her team members quit and she needed teammates. Anyway, on Christmas that year my girlfried (now my wife) handed me a wrapped box and asked me to guess what it was. It was a perfect cube and heavy for it's size--about five pounds. I thought maybe it was a bowling ball, but there was only one, so it couldn't be. I told her I had a guess, but it just couldn't be what I thought it was. She kept asking me to guess. She looked so excited. Finally I gave in and made a guess. I told her I thought it was a bowling ball, but it couldn't be because they came in pairs.

Her excitement disappeared and was replaced by a quivering lip. She was soooo upset. "I thought I got you the perfect gift, but I screwed it up!" It took a lot a work to calm her down and convince her how happy I was to get the gift. I had to go out the next day and buy the matching ball myself so I could use her gift. I used them every week when I bowled with my mom--my girlfriend frequently showed up to watch us. Just for the record, I didn't like those bowling balls!!! They were too light and produced terrible pin action! But using them was better than seeing that quivering lip again! I think I still have them in a closet around here somewhere.

Do you have any gifts from loved ones that you don't like, but wear or use just to make the the giver happy?

Let it Snow!!!

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!

We're having a pretty good snowstorm today. Last I heard the forecast called for up to 24 inches. Our airports are closed. The subway stations that are above ground are planning to close. All activities are cancelled. And the grocery stores were packed @ 10pm last night (look left!). A friend took the picture--I wasn't there.

How much snow does it take to affect your town this way? To make people flock to grocery stores? If you never get snow, what sort of weather activity makes your neighbors panic? I love snow--except for the shoveling!!! It reminds me of snowball fights, sledding with friends (especially in the dark), sliding around on top of the frozen snow--pretending to ice skate.

Wait, shoveling is really the best part. I'm happy to share the fun with you! Call me!!! Please!!! LOL

Christmas Memories

What was Christmas like when I was growing up? There was excitement in the air—and extra work cleaning and preparing for the holiday, but no one minded.

Our tree went up on Christmas Eve. My father would wrestle it into the stand while uttering traditional German exclamations about the beauty of the tree. My favorite was "Stupid #&$%". LOL! I helped decorate the tree every year. After arranging the ornaments, we placed tinsel on the tree one strand at a time. The tree topper was a Santa face with a real beard—the hair came from Santa himself (haircut clippings).

On Christmas Eve my dad and sisters always went to midnight Mass--they were in the choir. After my chores, I made macaroni bracelets (or something like that) for my sisters, cards for my parents, and tried to play Christmas music on my grandpa’s ancient electric organ (we had a “by the numbers” guide). I went to bed, but not to sleep. In addition to waiting for Santa, every year I hoped it would snow (regardless of the temp) and got out of bed repeatedly to look out the window. But somehow Santa got past me each year.

Since Santa had so much ground to cover, my folks told him not to spend time wrapping the presents. He created a pile for each person. Every year I would get a pair of pants, a shirt and either socks or underwear—somehow Santa always knew which one I needed the most. And there would be THE present. One year it was a doctor's kit. One year a plastic trumpet (no parent would give a noise-maker like that to their son). When I got older, one year I received a chess set.

At some point during the holidays we would visit my dad's sister. She made homemade cookies every year. The kids would sit and listen to the adults talk for what seemed like hours…and it always seemed to be about nothing—like the shortest route to the post office. Snore! Eventually my aunt offered cookies and they were worth the wait.

When I was 15 I asked my mother for another doctor's kit. I told her ALL teenage boys enjoy playing doctor!!! She didn't think that was funny.

Favorite Christmas Memory:
When I was 12 I had a choice whether to go to midnight Mass or stay home. I stayed home with my mom. We watched "A Christmas Carol" (1938 version). She let me have eggnog and fruitcake. I like eggnog. I like fruitcake. But combined they made me sick. Despite the upset stomach, that night with my mom is one of my favorite Christmas memories.

Least Favorite Christmas Memory:
Taking down the tree! My father wanted to keep the tinsel to reuse the next year. So we had to take it all off one strand at a time. The tinsel was older than I was.

Christmas as an Adult:
The tree goes up mid-month with no hassle. Santa always wraps my kids' presents, even though I have told him he doesn't have to. When we get together with family I always start a conversation about the best way to get to a particular place…to keep the tradition alive and to annoy the kids a little. They’ve heard the story and know why I do it.

Hopefully this Christmas season will create new fond memories for my family and I hope it does the same for all of my friends. Whether you celebrate or not, I wish you and your loved ones the peace and joy of the season!!!

My hairy child

This is my border collie, Bandit!

The top picture is my favorite because he looks like a vampire dog--his lower teeth look like upper fangs to me.

He really needed a brushing that day, so I'm not sure why we took his picture. He loves to fetch or play soccer. It's hard to tire him out. But once in a while he'll get winded and take a break by going to get the toy, but not bringing it back right away.

He has worked hard to train us and has patience when we're not smart enough to do what he wants us to do. Sometimes I don't see the toy he puts at my feet, so he'll nudge me and then look at the toy. His eyes go back and forth...looking at me, looking at the toy, looking at me, looking at the toy. If I don't understand his message, he'll talk to me softy (row, row, row). If I still don't understand, he'll talk a little louder (herooooow, row). If somehow I still don't understand, he'll shake his head (as he thinks "that boy ain't right") and take his toy to one of his humans with more sense. He never gets angry.

He's such a good dog he's even willing to share his food and water bowls with guests. He's not territorial--unless you're the mailman, a vaccum, or a baby...yeah, I don't understand that last one either!

First Poem

I never considered attempting to write poetry or anything meaningful until a buddy of mine was suffering with a broken heart. We were 18. He had it bad for a girl we worked with. She had a boyfriend (who was a jerk). My friend was giving up, but he wanted to send her flowers and a poem for her birthday. He couldn't come up with anything and asked me to help him. I thought about what he was feeling and wrote this:

The flowers are to let you know
Just exactly how I feel.
About a love I can never show
And a heart I can never steal.

It was bad, but it did get him a pity date. Haha! But really, he was too good for her.

The only reason I remember it now is because at the time I thought, "Hmmm, maybe I'll be able to use this myself someday." LOL. It never happened.

The only reason I thought to share it now is because Krissy posted a really nice bit of poetry she wrote at 14. If you haven't seen it yet, you should visit her page.

OMG Dad!!!

My dad seemed to believe childhood was sort of a boot camp to prepare for adulthood--and he was the drill sargeant. He tried to keep us as busy as possible to keep us out of trouble. It didn’t work, but he gave it a good try! At some point I want to post about some of the odd experiences I had doing chores for him. But today’s post is about some of his experiences. When I was in college I started hearing stories about the things my dad and his brothers did when they were kids. After that I completely understood why he wanted to keep us busy!

Incident #1: One day my dad and his 2 brothers skipped school to chop down a tree on their farm. There was only one ax, so they took turns. During one of my dad’s turns the tree was almost ready to fall. It was his older brother’s turn, but my dad wanted to strike the final blow. His brother tried to stop him, but my dad was determined. He took one more swing…and he put the ax into his brother’s leg!!! Their younger sister ran screaming for help. It couldn’t have been too deep a cut—my uncle walks fine. How hard can an 8 yr-old swing an ax???

Incident #2: Skip to #3 if you are squeamish! Whew! Here goes. Back in the day, where they grew up, boys were not circumcised until just before they started school. When it was my dad’s turn, he was rewarded with a bag of candy for taking it like a man! Later his younger brother asked if he could have some of the candy. My dad told him it was only for boys who had been circumcised. My uncle was afraid of doctors, but he really wanted the candy. My dad came up with a solution. He had watched the doctor and was sure he could handle the procedure. Yes! He grabbed his mother’s shears and took his little brother down to their barn. A few minutes later their younger sister walked into the barn, saw blood, and ran screaming for help. Fortunately that uncle was fine too—he went on to father 4 kids. No DNA confirmation though! Haha!

Incident #3: There was a covered bridge near my dad’s farm. He and his brothers liked to climb up inside it where no one could see them. Sometimes they would just hang out. Other times they would pay attention, waiting for cars to approach the bridge. They especially liked to see a convertible w/its top down. Why? Because they would try to time it so that as the car passed over the bridge (and under the covered part) they would pee on the car. My dad the juvenile delinquent! =)

After hearing how my dad had tramatized his brothers and little sister I understood why he thought he needed to be a drill sergeant. He was afraid we might take after him!!! LOL!

Also, as much as these stories made me cringe, I took them as reminders that parents are people too. They have a past full of successes and failures, good decisions and bad, etc., etc. If you have a mom or dad who is a hero to you, treasure that. They worked hard to achieve it. If you don't, well, they're only human...like us.

I was a college cheerleader

No, not me! A girl I worked with when I was in college. She had a big impact on me.

She was attractive and got a lot of attention in the office. One afternoon we had the weirdest conversation as we walked to a meeting. We passed a guy she thought was handsome and…

Her: That guy must be gay.
Me: What? Why?
Her: He didn’t even look at me!
Me: Maybe you’re not his type.
Her: I was a college cheerleader!!! He’s gay.

She wasn’t joking, she was annoyed. I wish I had joked, “He can’t be gay, he didn’t look at ME!” But I didn’t think of it at the time. What I did think was that this girl expected men to pay attention to her, as if she somehow deserved it or they owed it to her. It changed how I saw her—suddenly her blond dye job looked a little too brassy. LOL! She just wasn’t attractive anymore. After that exchange I found myself being more careful about who I complimented about a new hairdo or dress or whatever...I don't want to feed arrogance.

Confidence is beautiful (and so is humbleness), but arrogance is not attractive.

I was reminded of that conversation by a comment alittlebitofevrything made to a post by LOLanne. It was something about when “I see a girl trying too hard” and it made me laugh. I know that “trying to hard” is likely to be caused by insecurity, but from the outside it looks the same as arrogance.

The Art of Confession

This is not going to be about Tiger Woods.

My family is Catholic and confession (penance) is one of the seven Sacraments of the Church. Confession is required at least once a year, but some Popes have recommended more frequent, even weekly, confession. My parents attended Mass each week and we went to confession about once a month. That can be a little boring (for the priest) when you're young. A typical confession when I was 9 consisted of "Ah, I got mad at my parents twice and I coveted my friend's comic book," The priest would ask "What else?" I didn't want to disappoint him, but I couldn't lie in the confession booth....that would be bearing false witness against myself! So I would tell him that was all I had, he would sigh, and tell me to say 5 Our Father's and 10 Hail Mary's as penance. Once I had to say an Act of Contrition, but what is said in the confession booth stays in the confession booth, so no one will ever know what THAT was about. =)

Why is this post titled "The Art of Confession"? Because of the way my parents practiced it. We attended a very old, very small church. For years I thought our church did not offer confession because we confessed at a neighboring parish. But I found out later our church DID offer confession. Apparently my folks didn't want to confess to our priest. I'm not sure, but that makes me wonder if their confessions were much more interesting than mine!!! LOL!

A LIttle Piece of me...December 2009

This is a monthly game started by Notes from the Toothfairy. The game is to share info about yourself on the 1st Sunday of every month. This month....

I like: sledding head first and I like blogging a lot more than I thought I would, thanks to the great people I've met!

I don't like: that I seem scatter-brained lately. I've never been forgetful. Well, at least it's a new experience.

I want you to know: I have 3 older sisters and 2 older brothers. One summer day when I was two, my 10 yr-old sister decided we had tooooo many kids in the house. At dinner time my mom asked "where's Ricky?" My sister responded "um, we have too many kids anyway". Soon she admitted she had taken me into the woods near our house and left me there. Apparently they came searching and found me. How do I know this? It's her favorite story at parties. All families are crazy, but... LOL!

I've planned: to complete my tax returns early this year!!!

I want to say to someone special: you're my hero! Johns Hopkins said you would never learn math and never understand what you read, but you work hard and prove them wrong. I love you and I'm proud of you!

How Did They Know?

Your typical human has 5 senses. But when I was a kid it sometimes seemed my parents had 6 senses. Somehow they knew what I was doing when they should have had no clue.

On days when I was stuck in the house, I used to like to stand on the arm of our couch (we called it a davenport???) and fall backwards onto the cushions. I'd imagine I was flipping out of a plane to parachute down to the ground...or rolling out of a boat to go scuba diving. My parents weren't in the room, they couldn't see me doing it. But somehow "super dad" knew and he'd yell, "Stop jumping on the davenport!!!" Weird!

One winter when I was about 6 I found a bag of marshmallows in the kitchen. I REALLY wanted toasted marshmallows. But we didn't have a fireplace and I didn't know how to light a match anyway. But I did know how to turn on an electric burner on our stove. So I turned one of them up to high, put a marshmallow on a fork, and I was in business. Once the burner turned red I touched the marshmallow to it and it flamed up. It worked perfectly. The marshmallows were yummy and the smell was wonderful. And to top things off, the burner had burned off any residue and was clean. Since I was being very quiet, no one would ever know the fun I was having. But somehow "super dad" sensed what I was doing and came in from the living room. Spooky! My butt ended up almost as red as the burner. I wasn't sure why I was punished...no one ever said I couldn't use the stove!!!

And then there was the night I couldn't sleep, so I "climbed" up to the ceiling of the hallway outside my room (by pushing off against the opposing walls and inching my way up to the ceiling). My dad got out of bed to use the bathroom. But I wasn't worried, I knew he'd never see me up near the ceiling. Unfortunately it wasn't dad in the hallway that night, it was "super dad". I got caught....and I had to wash all the walls in the house. Again, I wasn't sure why I was punished.

I've heard similar stories from my friends--which make me feel better, I'd hate to think I was the only kid too dumb to realize that even though his parents couldn't see him, they could hear him...or smell a burning marshmallow...or notice a weird shadow being cast by a hall way light! "Super dad"!!! LOL!

So, do you have any stories that could offer me a little more comfort?

PS - I'd like to thank a nice girl for eating marshmallows today and inspiring this goofy post! ;)

LOCKED OUT

As a teenager I worked at a burger joint. Until I could afford a car, I walked to and from work. I was an independent kid, so I didn’t ask for rides. It was about 4 miles. I mostly worked nights and walked home between 11:00pm and midnight—later on weekends. Frequently my folks were already in bed when I got home. More than once police questioned me about being out so late—in bad weather (rain, snow, a plague of locusts) they sometimes gave me a ride to my grandmother's store.

My parents had two locks on the back door--a skeleton key lock and a deadbolt. Everyone in the family had a key to the deadbolt, but only my parents had skeleton keys for the other lock. (Note: With a skeleton key lock, you can actually see through the keyhole to the other side.) One night I got home to find both locks were locked—and everyone was in bed. I couldn't open the door. Being independent (and maybe a little stubborn) I decided to break in. We had one window that would pop open if you pushed on it in the right place. I worried a little about being shot climbing in the window, but not enough to keep me from doing it. It became my regular way into the house after work. But then one Saturday my father fixed the window. Coincidence, or did he know I had been coming in through the window??? Haha!

I had to find another way in. I played with one of the cellar windows and found a way to flip the lock from the outside. That became my new way into the house after work. That lasted about 2 weeks until one night I came home, climbed in the cellar window, and discovered my father had locked the door from the cellar to the kitchen. Coincidence, or did he know? Hmmmm?

Again, I refused to knock, so I had to think of another way in. Then I remembered something I had seen on TV. The cellar door had a skeleton key lock and my dad had left the key IN the lock. So I found newspaper in the cellar and slid it under the door. Then, using a screwdriver from his work bench, I pushed the key out of the lock. It fell onto the paper and when I pulled the paper out from under the door the key came with it. I had the key! I did a little victory dance about getting in, but I was also worried. If my dad had removed the key from the locked door, there would have been no way for me to get into the house (the non-cellar part). I knew what I needed to do.

Fortunately, I had just started a new class in school—metal shop. The next day I borrowed my mother's skeleton key and made a copy of it in class. I didn't know if cast aluminum would be strong enough, but I made a mold of the key, filled it with melted aluminum and hoped it would work. It did! I didn’t have to break into my own house anymore. Yes, I did another victory dance in celebration! That was one of the most useful classes I took in high school!!!

I never asked my dad if he forgot I wasn’t home or if he was actually TRYING to keep me out. Maybe he was just tired and forgetful after having been a parent for 32 years--my oldest sister is 16 years older than I am. What do you think? Was he sending me a message and I failed to take the hint about coming home??? Personally, I do not think it was intentional. I was his youngest child and he still needed me to do chores. LOL!!!

PS – I later had to use my break-in skills to help one of my brothers. So maybe everything really does happen or a reason.

Tradgedy on the Rudolph Special

Wednesday night one of the networks is showing the old Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer special. My kids really like it, despite the tradgedy at the end. The very end. Have you seen it?

Santa picks up the misfits from the Island of Misfit Toys. He's going to make sure they all find a child to love them. Then Santa takes off and as he flies along, the narrator sings the Rudolph song and an elf is in the back of the sleigh pulling toys out of Santa's sack. He give's each of them an umbrella so they can float down to their assigned house...and child. It's such a happy scene.

But then something terrible happens. The elf pulls a misfit toy out of the sack...the bird. The elf looks at the bird, then at the umbrella. He looks back and forth several times. Then he pushes the bird out of the sleigh without an umbrella!!! The misfit toy bird! The one that swims! The one that can't fly!!! It's too terrible to watch! Except we will watch. We'll pretend to be horrified. And we'll laugh like crazy!

Then I'll ask my kids if they think the writers did that on purpose, as an inside joke. What do you think? We're the writers being silly or sloppy???

Empty Ring

This is not my usual, goofy post. I would like a little advice.

I bought my wife's engagement ring when I was 18. I didn't know what I was doing and got one that was a little too big for her finger. But she liked it and didn't want it resized. Later we bought the wedding rings together, so that one fit! Somewhere along the line her hands swelled a little and she stopped wearing the wedding ring because it was tight--but she didn't want it resized either. The good news was that then her engagement ring fit perfectly.

I haven't been happy about her not wearing the wedding ring, but it gave me an excuse to tease her that, "at least we're still engaged!" That was fun.

After she took a shower last night, she noticed the stone was gone from her engagement ring. She was really upset. We searched everywhere. It's gone. It was a very modest stone, but the sentimental value was high. I wanted to make her feel better, so I told her we could pick out a new set (engagement and wedding) for Christmas. She said no, she wants to wait until our anniversary in mid-May. She just thinks that would be better.

How is waiting 5 1/2 months better? This actually bothers me a little. Could she be hoping to find the missing stone between now and then?

Also, would it be wrong for me to spend those 5 1/2 months teasing her that, "Gee, now we're not even engaged"??? Haha...I wanted to end this on a light-hearted note! I wouldn't really do that. =)

Edit: I forgot to mention that we got engaged after midnight mass on a Christmas Eve.