Some houseguests...

...do not stink after three days.

We are into week four of my brother's 13 week stay in Casa de News Readin'. So far - so good.

He has fixed a broken latch on our exterior front door, re-wired some old two-prong outlets and re-caulked our guest shower. Oh, and incredibly he knows how to take out the garbage, wipe down the counters, start dinner (without step-by-step instructions delivered by cell) and replace the paper towels.

On Thursday I came home and he was vacuuming. Without being asked to do so. Seriously.

Maybe he shouldn't be the man in this house to move out in 10 weeks.
Just kidding. (Not really.)


Stay tuned. More at 11.

How to Spot a Heathen

One of my New Year's resolutions was to "get right with God." Or just go to mass a few times a month instead of a few times a year. So far - so good. Until the recessional, when I have to shake hands with the priest. My least favorite part. I can see it in his eyes - he knows I'm the stranger among his sheep.

Being the New Kid at mass is sort of like being the new person in a group exercise class. All the regulars assume the same position week after week, and give you the hairy eyeball should you dare cross the boundary line of "their spot." So, you've got that going for ya' - along with attempting to atone for missing the last 50 out 52 masses in a year.

I have been a Catholic all my life - save for that brief moment around the age of 13 when I thought, "I could be Jewish - have a Batz Mitzvah and then three years later do it up again for a Sweet Sixteen?! Have party. Will convert!" My mother, ever the Debbie Downer, quickly pointed out that conversion is a lengthy process , so my Batz Mitvah and Sweet Sixteen would end up being a combined party. And I would have to learn Hebrew. (Yiddish slang learned by just being a New Yorker, did not count.) Oy vey. I barely made it through middle school French.

Catholic, I remained.

Being relatively new to this church and still test driving our compatibility...(Do they use real wine or grape juice? Is parking a nightmare? Are the homilies relevant or about natural family planning?)...I had not officially registered and was without personalized envelopes for the collection baskets.

Since embarking on this road to redemption, I've been stuffing the monetary donation in my pocket. It's been smooth sailing. Until...

This past Saturday I slipped my hand into the wrong pocket and tossed my dry cleaning slip into the collection basket. Not realizing until the basket was two people down - I debated retrieving it rather than cause a scene. Until I recalled that MY NAME was on the slip. Oh, for the love of everything holy!!

So I had to get up, wrestle the basket from some lady who insisted on giving it to the usher at the end of the pew, grab my ticket and drop in my money. Sheez. Leave it to a heathen to ruin the flow of traffic and disrupt the vigil.

Yes, I have since ordered the damn envelopes. And no, I didn't stay after communion.

Stay tuned. More at 11.

Good Manners in Bad Times

Weren't we raised to avoid any and all talk of money in social settings? I thought so - but I can't tell you how many times in the past five years I've listened to successful, young people discuss bonuses, salary, cost of homes, cars and vacations. OMG. It makes me uncomfortable to even type it...imagine my discomfort while being regaled of the monetary details.

Don't get me wrong. I'll be the first person to tell you that I scored a Pucci satin clutch at TJ Maxx for $70.00. Don't hunters tell you if their buck had eight or ten points? Same thing, really. Telling me about your $150K bonus - um, well... - different.

The boom which preceded our current financial standings made inappropriate conversation topics acceptable and part of the norm. In the April 2009 issue of Town & Country, Michael Korda has penned a much needed piece on graceful behavior during this period of economic uncertainty.


Back to Mr. Korda's fine piece...he outlined twelve simple rules to remain dignified amidst this mess:

1. Don't flaunt any wise financial decisions made of late.
2. There's no crying in investing and especially in public. Save it. We're all in this mess...
3. Leave the jokes about money to professionals.
4. Save the "Sun will come out tomorrow" routine. We're in this for a while.
5. Refrain from asking how work is until you know that person is still employed. Many are not.
6. Avoid topics such as 401(K)s, IRAs and bonuses. Seriously.
7. Use caution when telling stories about sensible people being affected by panic. You never know who has stuffed their savings in the coffee grounds can...
8. Before having a family pow wow about belt tightening make sure you and your spouse are on the same page and sacrificing laterally.
9. Do not tell scary stories about what had happened to other people. Those stories are always more fiction than fact.
10. Bear in mind that in economic ups and downs - people rarely tell the truth about money.
11. Distinguish between what you had on paper and what you really owned.
12. And last but not least - if you are buying Chanel from the Worth Avenue boutique - have it shipped. Black tie dinner? Go light on the good jewelry. One can achieve chic without being showy.

Mr. Korda recommends reading F. Scott Fitzgerald's, The Great Gatsby as it deals with the consequences of indulging to the point of excess. A good book any time - it is particularly poignant and relevant 80+ years after its original purpose as a social commentary during the Hoover administration.

So, let's take a lesson from Marie-Antoinette...who would have been far better off suggesting Wheat Thins to the starving French masses than cake. If she had possessed the good sense of Mr. Korda, she may have even been able to keep her wig-laden head.

Stay tuned. More at 11.

Pearl: How we became cat people

*Note: This is a little sad, a little weird and really long. Sorry.

Ash Wednesday night, I let our Sneaky Kitty outside for her usual early evening jaunt. When she didn't come back before we headed to bed, I was surprised - but not too concerned. She is a cat after all and completely independent.

Pearl aka Sneaky Kitty on her screened-in porch throne

The next morning Pearl still wasn't back...not good. So, the News Readin' husband searched the neighborhood. We blanketed the streets with fliers of sneaky kitty - even offering a reward. After all that, two trips to the shelter and a few phone calls from kind strangers telling us that had seen a cat, but not our cat - I was pretty confident that Pearl was gone and we would never really know what happened to her.

Before I go on with this let me say that I learned few things from the course of these events:
- The kindness of strangers never ceases to amaze me
- The bizarre-ness of strangers never ceases to amaze me
- The News Readin' Husband loves me
- The News Readin' Husband must have reeaallyyy loved that cat

On Sunday afternoon, a woman called to say that she had been walking near our home one evening earlier in the week and had seen a cat matching Pearl's description on the side of the road. Not too many people would actually call to say, "Oh by the way I saw your missing cat - dead on the side of the road." I appreciated her call.

Mr. News Readin' went to go check out the location, even though he had already carried out that morose exercise a few days earlier and had not seen Pearl. The woman even met him out there to show him the exact spot...but no sign of Pearl.

While at work on Monday, Mr. News Readin' received a phone call from a woman saying that her 21 year old daughter lives off of the nearby main road and saw a dead cat at the edge of her property a few days ago. (The same vicinity the woman on her walk had provided.) She had called her father (the caller's husband) to come and deal with the remains. So, the father buried the cat. Mystery solved.

This is where the story starts getting ridiculous and a little weird...
The woman went on to say- a couple had come by looking for their cat and they unearthed the body to id the cat - but it was not that couple's cat. Were we the same couple?

Uhhhh...no. But, our hard hitting reporter was not about to let this be an open case file. So, he arranged a time to meet the father and the daughter with a picture of Pearl to see if they could finally provide closure to our missing sneaky kitty.

When he arrived he found that they had once again unearthed the cat. For the second time. Seriously?!

After confirming it was indeed, Pearl - he expected they would simply return her to the ground and he would head home to let me down easy and fix a scotch. Guess again. According to him - the father said, "You are taking her with you, right?"

Mind you - Mr. News Readin' in a wool flannel chalk stripe Samuelsohn suit - was not exactly prepared to see our cat - let alone re-bury her. Sheez. But, he manned up, put her in the Tahoe and drove home to get a flashlight and a shovel.

He felt strongly that he shouldn't bury the cat in the yard, for fear the dog would sniff her out or worse - bring her into the house. Good call. There is not enough liquor in this county for me to deal with that scene.

Clad in his Italian wool suit, in the rain with a flashlight in his mouth - Mr. News Readin' found a nice spot to lay Pearl to rest. Could you imagine if someone saw him? I'm sure that didn't look suspicious at all. Regardless, he is a good, good man for carrying all this out to provide me with closure.


We got a cat following a mouse issue and ended up with another four-legged family member. A cat who killed plenty of birds, mice and snakes in her one year and three months on this earth to feel proud yet, was the most affectionate cat I have ever known.

Sneaky Kitty takes on the fierce Hot Pink Boa

Pearl, the kitten

We miss Pearl, but know she is in a better place - using someone else's Lee Jofa club chair as a scratch post and drinking all the 2% milk she can manage.

I'm happy to say she made us cat people.


Stay tuned. More uplifting news at 11.

Deep Thoughts for a Monday Morning

Last week someone posed this question to me and I have been thinking about it ever since...

What is your greatest accomplishment?

Having not run a marathon, given birth to children or passed the New York State bar exam - instantly I felt like my life toils were silly, inconsequential and by no means accomplishments. The question made me cry. How foolish sounding - but I felt lackluster and pointless.

Am I being too hard on myself? Maybe. But, it has definitely made re-think my life plan.

So, I ask you dear reader and friend -

What is your greatest accomplishment?
Do you feel like it's yet to come?
Is it a collection of small things or one large event, moment, happening?

If you normally do not comment, please reconsider the usual lurk and weigh in on what may be my deepest post ever. Thank you very much.


We will return to your regularly scheduled retail fueled, News Readin' Husband coverage and general observations after this break from our local sponsors - Deep Thoughts and Red Wine.

Mrs. News Readin'

Major Airlines: Take Note

In reading all of the accounts of yesterday's horrific landing of US Air Flight 1549 from LaGuardia to Charlotte - I hope major airlines gleaned an important detail.

The experience of age.


The pilot, Chesley "Sully" Sullenberger of Danville, Calif has 40 years of varied flight experience. An Air Force Academy grad, who flew F-4 fighter planes, he has 29 years of flying time with US Airways. In addition, he is an airline safety expert who has consulted with NASA and other organizations.

It's not uncommon in today's poorly managed airline industry for pilots with the experience (and salary) of Captain Sullenbeger to be forced into early retirement and faced with evaporated hard-earned pensions.

I for one, am willing to sacrifice warm Diet Coke and pretzels and pony up an extra $25 for the likes of Captain Sullenberger to remain employed and enjoy a rewarding pension upon retirement. A seasoned pilot who can land a damn Airbus on a river, surrounded by one of the world's most densely populated major metropolitan areas is worth his weight in gold. Or American dollars.

So put him on the luggage scale and let me know - along with the countless other pilots who have the knowledge and experience to keep us alive in times of crisis in the air.

They are payed to know what to do when things go horribly wrong - not to make sure we make our connection in Cincinnati in enough time to hit the Cinnabon. There is no greater example of this than yesterday's incredible outcome.

Blessings to Captain Sullenberger and I only hope my next flight is in the back of a plane handled by someone as equally poised and knowledgeable.

We now return to your regularly scheduled program.

The Animal Odd Couple: Tissues Required

A must watch for any animal lover!

My MIL sent this video - an installment of CBS News "Assignment America."

Steve Hartman is a great reporter/news reader and this might be one of his best pieces. Kudos to him for bringing us something that is uplifting and positive.

Grab a tissue. This is one of the sweetest stories...



Watch CBS Videos Online

News Readin's Attempt to Go Green

The News Readin' household does its fair share of dry cleaning - especially with Mr. News Readin's many costume changes and my inability to buy more Dryel sheets.

Mr. News Readin' although, a fabulous dropper(er)-off(er) of drycleaning - is not so great at what do with the plastic coverings once he decides to wear that garment for a full day of news reading.

I usually come home to find them strewn on our bedroom floor. (Yes. I agree. His obvious aversion to the recycling bin might be a great topic for an Oprah show - being the Best Life Whatever Week / I Can't Believe I let My Producers Talk Me Into This Topic Again and all.)

In my effort to green up a bit around these parts, I've invested in these:

The Green Garmento.

A garment bag for your freshly dry cleaned garments and that you can use to drop off laundry in, as well. Made of 100% fully biodegradable materials - it eliminates the plastic coverings and reduces the icky chem smell from your clothes.

Some dry cleaners have started using these across the board for all of their customers. Ours is not quite there yet - so I had to buy these directly from the website. You can score a free bag if you provide your dry cleaner's contact info and they're not using the Green Garmento.

Don't worry, I've already sent a very nice letter suggesting a more chic color palette and the availability of monogramming.

I'm all about participating in saving the environment - but a girl has to look cute doing it.


More at 11.

You know you're getting old(er)...

...when you get excited about seeing this on the shelf at the drugstore:


And become downright ecstatic when a free sample arrives in the mail.

Now, you will start carrying them in your purse along with these:


and your blood pressure meds. (Just kidding.)

Okay, see you later - off to Curves then, altar guild! (Again, just kidding.)


Mrs. News Readin'

Make new friends, but keep the old

The Vodka Fairy and I go wayyy back.

She is unequivocally my Madame of liquor...VF knows what I like and how I like it. Bottom line - she made seven months on the Atkins Diet, pre-big white dress, bearable. (Surviving on chicken salad and cheese was not as easy as I thought it was going to be...but damn I looked skinny for the pictures.)

Bumped into VF recently at a friend's tailgate. She pulled me aside and said,"You've got to meet my new friend...tall, dark and Southern."

Jack Daniels? George Dickel? Johnnie Walker?

"No- no, my dear. This one's young and different."

Oh, and was she right.

One sip and I said, "Lead the way home, honey."

Meet my new friend:

Photo courtesy of: Firefly Distillery

Firefly Sweet Tea Vodka aka Juice of the gods.

Just another reason why I love the South... and the Vodka Fairy.

Needless to say, we partied like it was NYC 2002 and I was wearing chandelier earrings. Pure magic.

If you're looking for own sip of tall, dark and Southern click here.

Cheers!

Mrs. News Readin'

Thirty-one years ago today...

Today I am officially a 31 year-old, northern grown, southern living, wife of an anchorman.

Damn. How did that happen? Just last week I was in my early twenties...

No fear. I was asked if I was still "in school" at the grocery store recently. I'm not sure if it was my youthful glow or my Nike running shorts, frat-tastic t-shirt ca. 1999 and hair piled on my head.

Probably the latter.

30 year-olds, and certainly 31 year-old women, do not dress like they are dashing off to chicken finger night at their university's dining hall. What can I say? I still rock (on occasion) my senior year formal t-shirt with pride...It reads: "Last time I had this much fun I got spanked," accompanied by a cartoon of a sorority girl paddling a frat boy. Nice. I'm all class.

On other fronts...this morning I started my routine at 6:05 am with coffee and decided since it is my birthday, I'm just going to lounge on the couch for a little bit. Mr. News Readin' (who usually sleeps until 7:45/8:00) poked his head in the den around 6:45 am to inquire as to when I was getting in the shower. Cute husband! He wanted to surprise me with Starbucks après showering on my birthday.

Life in a word is excellent. Amazing husband, caring family and friends, good job, awesome dog and cat, cute house, fab hair and no regrets. Not bad.

Now, if I could just add passenger rail service to and fro' work and friendship via Facebook with Tim Gunn - it would be perfection...a News Readin' Wife can dream, can't she?

More at 11.