Never Give Up

Meet Beth. Beth is my sister in law, although she tells everyone I am her sister:) and I am honored that she thinks of me that way. I want to tell you all about her because she has the toughness, and attitude that will, I hope, change how you think about things.

Beth is 44 years old and has MS. She was diagnosed approximately 8 years ago. She has progressive MS which is one of the meaner types.
I won't turn this into a medical journal of MS- mainly because I am not a Dr and didn't even stay at a Holiday Inn last night, so I am unqualified.

This is about Beth and her unwillingness to give up or to surrender to her MS.

Early on in her disease she must have made the decision to have a positive attitude and a super hero shield of toughness, qualities that she has held on to. Would I be that tough? I can't answer that, but my first thought is no. I would crumble. I would feel sorry for myself and throw the biggest pity party you have ever seen. Not Beth. She has remained positive and focused on not letting MS have its way with her.

MS however, had other ideas.

She took up tennis (again) a life long passion for her and something that she was always good at. She would put on her braces and go play, even if it meant she paid the price later. She loved it.

The above photo was taken in 2006. Although she was having trouble walking she was bound and determined to go ride a bike in our neighborhood, and she did! I was like a nervous Mother watching her and hoping that she would not fall. She had a blast and could not stop smiling! I remember that she never said "I can't", in fact she would go out of her way to prove to you that she still "could". Toughness.

MS 150 Bike Ride, Summer 2007

Following the MS 150 someone asked if I had done the entire 150 miles, to which I quickly replied "No, it was too hard". As soon as the words left my mouth I regretted saying them and in fact was embarrassed. How the hell could I complain about riding my bike for 150 miles when my sister in law would have given her right arm to be able to ride around the block. Something in me changed that day. Thanks to her. Never give up.

Beth's son Christopher's graduation, June 2009

Beth and I rallied after her son's graduation. She was forced to sit all alone during the ceremony, apart from all family in a little roped off area with 3 or 4 other handicapped people. I am thankful for my passion for photography as it came in handy to show the school district how unfair and cruel it was to have her sitting all alone. Big changes came and the school district had to change it's policy on how it treated the handicapped. She was super proud of those changes and I was too. Persistence.

The past couple of years, Beth has declined, physically. She is in a wheelchair full time, but her mental toughness remains. Last year at Thanksgiving she was able to fly here to Florida and celebrate with the Parker Family. One of her main concerns was that she didn't want anyone to look at her and feel sorry for her. She just wanted to be treated like one of the family. Which is exactly what happened and a great time was had by all. Mindset.

Thanksgiving 2010

I have been wanting to write about this for some time. A sort of tribute if you will. To one tough woman. She has a positive attitude in the face of some not very positive things that are going on her life. We could all learn from her. What will you do when things get tough? Will you face the challenges with a smile on your face and joy in your heart? Will you not think of yourself, but of others? Will you love freely and honestly with no expectation of anything in return? Will you push through when things get tough?

You should, Beth does.

Mark & Beth

Beth is currently in a rehabilitation hospital awaiting a placement in a long term care facility. She fluctuates between moments of clarity and moments of confusion.
She recently asked her husband Bill to get a photo that was in the Herald Leader newspaper and then asked the nurses to put the photo in her room and to write under the photo "Never Give Up".
She called Mark the other day and told him to have me call her phone to see if I liked her new voicemail message. I dialed her up and her new message says "This is Beth, Never Give Up".

She is an inspiration to me and she can be to you too.

Positive.

Until next time,
Mullet's out.

Thanksgiving

Ah it is that time of year again when we are suppose to reflect, look back and express our "thankfullness". I think sometimes from year to year it feels like we are thankful for the same old things, thankful for our health, our family, or jobs, etc. Some years however, it is different. Some years it is just obvious as to what we should be thankful for. This is one of those years for me and Mark both. You will hear people say how they are thankful for family, and yet they don't talk all that often, or months go by that they don't see each other. Things changed for us this year. A little background.

If you have read this blog in the past or have a facebook account, you will all remember that this past May my Dad had a heart attack. It was serious, I spent 2 weeks with my parents in Mississippi while he recovered from quad bypass surgery. (a previous blog if you need a memory jogger). Back home in Minnesota he suffered a set back and was literally at deaths door, kidney failure, another surgery to remove a clot, more time in the ICU. I was told I should get there asap as it didn't look promising. I caught a flight the next morning. I wish I could bottle up what I saw when I entered the waiting room at the hospital. The whole family had filled the room, nieces, nephews, Aunts, Uncles, cousins, family friends, all my brothers and sisters, all surrounding my Mom. It was so wonderful to all be in the same room together, even though it was such a difficult time. There was laughter, crying and lots of hugs! Miraculously, my Dad recovered and is back in sunny Florida gaining strength everyday and we are certainly thankful for that!


Back to the story:
Once my Dad was home from the hospital (again) Mark and I thought a visit was in order. We traveled to MN for a quick weekend and a shindig was planned. The evening was great, although my Dad was very tired and weak, he hung in there and it was great to visit with everyone. Close to the end of the evening, Mark got a phone call from his Dad. The kind of call you don't want to get. Mark's older sister Lesley had passed away.

So, here we were celebrating the fact that my Dad was recovering and then mourning the loss of Mark's sister. The next few days would a blur of activity. Pondering how this could have happened, what would we do, where would we go from here.

A memorial service was planned by Lesley's friends in Myrtle Beach. Truth be told, Mark did not want to go. He does not like funerals, and dislikes the entire concept of being made to feel worse than you ever thought imaginable by music and somber settings. He decided against his better judgment and accompanied his Dad, Stepmom and Mom to Myrtle Beach. A better decision could not have been made. The call I got from Mark after the service was great. It was held at a friends house, everyone shared stories and wonderful memories they had with Lesley. We also had a service here in Florida for family and more stories and memories were passed around. Lesley certainly had an effect on peoples lives, and that was a great comfort to Mark.

What is the moral of my story and why am I bringing you all down? Not my intent, but it does allow me to wrap up my story and bring it right back around as to why we should be thankful. I had a second chance with my Dad, to tell him how much I love him and appreciate him and I look forward to many years of being able to do that! Mark does not have that luxury. What he does have is the knowledge that you can't let days go by, you can't have regrets. So this year, be thankful for your loved ones, let them know that they are loved and appreciated. Hug them for a second longer, look directly in their eyes, cherish the time you have together.

Until next time,
Mullet's out

Headstrong

Mark and I have been waiting for this day for a while now! We have been official Floridians for almost a year and decided it was time for a boat! The planning and building and cyphering was complete, Lucretia Redwine was ready for her maiden voyage. Checklist finished, we headed to the marina both of us anxious and excited. She rolled off the trailer with no problems, and floated! Whew, glad we passed that first test.
Took a bit to get the gas from the tank in the front of the boat to the motor in the back, but she finally started and purred like a kitten. 2nd test~pass!

We drove around for about an hour, loving every minute of being back on the water. We both were just raving and ranting about how much we loved our new boat! It was great! Traveling around the waters that we have come to know over the last 10 years or so. It felt completely comfortable, it was like we were visiting an old friend.

Speaking of old friends, our friend Sam was nearby doing some work on Little Gasparilla Island. Sam is of course a boat expert, water expert and in fact I think he may have gills. He hopped aboard to check out the newest addition to the Parker family. This is where the story goes slightly downhill or should I say backwards? Mark gives her the gas and the cooler that I am sitting on goes sllllloooooowwwwwly backwards, tiiiiiiippppping and down I go. OUCH that hurt! I say a few choice favorite swear words all together in a nice sentence! It is confirmed once I move my hand that I have indeed cut my head open. Shit. I start panicking of course, saying really stupid things, like, "I don't want to be bleeding". duh. We drop Sam back off at his boat and start back to the marina.

Thankfully everything went super smooth, one try and the boat was on the trailer, I actually drove the truck/trailer/boat out of the water, Mark got everything hooked up and away we went. This whole time mind you I am still panicking, and holding a nice white towel with some ice on my head.

In the car I have a TERRIBLE thought and it scares me to death. What if the same thing happens to me that happened to that actress after she hit her head on the ski slope....and later died? More panicking. Mark tries to calm me down and assures me that I will not die. I did warn you that I said some silly things, and believe me it gets worse. You have to remember that I have a low tolerance for any pain, and I have never had stitches or a broken bone in my life! We arrive at the Englewood Hospital ER and it is not busy so I am in luck. I get seen pretty much right away and they start prodding and probing around which I do not like. I tell anyone that will listen that I don't like any pain, so be nice.

I then tell the two nurses that I don't want to end up like Natasha Kinski and die.

OK, Mark breaks it to me gently after they leave that Natasha Kinski is alive and well. Oh my word, I didn't even get her name right, which is pretty damn funny. It was Natasha Richardson who died. What a dork I am!
They do a CT scan and while waiting for the results we get our first "roommate". A woman probably in her late 70's. We are only separated by a curtain and so we can hear everything that is said. She had just been discharged from the hospital on Friday and now she is back again. She has the shits. It happens and gives her no warnings, she just shits, shits shits. Poop bombs is what they are like. Well, to be honest this is just tmi! Mark and I can't even look at each other for fear of laughing out loud. I am not making fun of this woman at all and I feel bad that she is not feeling well, but it was funny to listen to her. She starts to cough and I think we all know what comes next. "Oh there it goes" is heard from behind the curtain. Now this certainly made the time go by and kept my mind of my own worries, the main one being the pain that was going to be involved in the stitching up part.

The Dr. finally comes back and wants to know if I want Novocaine or just put in the couple of staples and get it over with. Oh please! I start crying and my body goes into this shaking borderline convulsing thing and they know what they have to do. Novocaine for sure. So, I am laying face down, gripping the pillow and preparing for something that is probably similar to stubbing your toe. I can't help it. I don't know why I am this way, I am certainly tough in other areas of my life, but not this one. The Novocaine isn't too bad, and it is actually a good thing we went this route as upon further cleaning of the wound, it is discovered that the cut goes all the way to my skull, more of a puncture wound. So he has to do some inner stitches and then outer staples. 3 of the 6 staples hurt like a mo($%^ f&^$#r and I say so out loud.

They wrap my head up like a mummy and give me a tetanus shot and send us on our way. Mark was of course the model support person. This was our first trip to the ER in the 19 years that we have been together. Not a bad record. We make a good team no matter the circumstances.

So, in closing I offer these words of wisdom. Don't sit on an unsecured cooler.

Until next time, Mullet's out....

The Heart of a Champion

ring ring ring, you all know the feeling. I was at the gym where I don't normally answer the phone, but when it rang 2 weeks ago, I ran to it. My Mom had called earlier that morning and I had missed it, I tried to call her back no less than 20 times, just kept going to voicemail. Mark thought something was wrong also. So when I answered the phone the first thing I asked her was "is everything ok"? For those of you who are around my age this is the phone call that you know is going to happen someday, or maybe it already has, but your never really ready for it. My Mom told me all about what was happening with my Dad, chest pains, trip to the ER in the ambulance, not sure what is going on or what it is that is ailing him. I start the sibling phone tree and of course my mind starts to race. My Mom is a wreck, my parents have been married for 58 years (after meeting on a blind date!) they are literally attached at the hip. Mark starts checking flights, I know what has to happen. I have to get to them.

They had departed Florida for their yearly trip home to MN on May 13th, they always take their time, checking out the scenery and hitting every casino in between! Tunica, which is located in MS is always one of their stops, and unfortunately their last stop of this particular trip. From there it was non-stop fast ride to Baptist Memorial Desoto.

I am now multi-tasking like nobody's business. Packing, checking in with my Mom, calling family, listing for flights, all while trying to remain calm.

After a heart catheterization it is determined that my Dad has multiple blockages and surgery is needed and will be performed early the next morning. My flight will arrive in Memphis (the hospital is just 10 minutes away) around 6:30pm and I am relieved that I will get to see him before surgery. I am feeling pretty calm and able to talk about the situation almost as if it is about someone else, not MY Dad, I am just relaying the story. I get to the airport and rush to the gate. As if my tear ducts are connected to my voice, as soon as I start explaining my situation to the gate agent the flood gates open. I got first class so I may try this again soon.

I arrive in MEM, get my rental car and off I go! I have the directions printed from map quest and I am confident. Well, that didn't last long, soon I am driving in circles and completely panicking. I stop at a little strip mall and grab the first person I see, who is the little old lady who works and probably owns the Vietnamese restaurant as she speaks little English. If it wasn't so serious, it would have been funny. I go into the restaurant and head for the English speaking patrons. I just barge right into their dinner, open flood gates and all and ask them if they can give me directions. This is a table of angels. They try to calm the crazy lady that is crying and has just interrupted their dinner. Buffy, the take charge one, comes over taps my hand tells me it will be alright and starts writing down the directions exactly how I need them. rights and lefts and street names, no east or west, that doesn't help a directionally challenged person such as myself. She gives me her phone number and her Dad's phone number in case I get lost again. They know the area like the back of their hand and will get me to the hospital! Angels I tell you.

I get to the hospital and rush to the 4th floor ICU unit. More flood gates open as soon as I see them. Surgery will be in the morning at 6:30am.

Surgery Day: We arrive and have plenty of time to visit before he is taken into surgery. Every other moment feels like something out of "Terms of Endearment" my Dad tells me to take care of my Mom, of course I tell him I will. You don't want any regrets so you say what you know you need to say and hope that you get to say it again and again and again. The nurse in surgery will be giving us updates every hour during the surgery and then we will get to talk to the Dr.
First call: surgery underway, everything going fine. I text about 20 people the news.
Second call: on the bypass machine (which I know means they have stopped his heart) I feel like mine has stopped too. More texting.
Third call: finishing up, so far so good.
Fourth call: off the bypass machine, next call will be from Dr. Wolf. Text, text, text. That mini keyboard is getting a workout!
Fifth call: everything went well, it is confirmed that he had a pretty strong heart attack and his heart muscle was very weak. They did 4 bypasses, clogged 90%, see you in recovery. Thank God! Text more people.

We get to see him for about a minute, and are told that we can come back in about 2 hours. We come back, still not awake, still intubated. 4 hours after surgery, same thing. hmmm back to worrying. The staff tells us that some folks take a little longer to wake up. I figure since he has a machine breathing for him, he is going to take every advantage to sleep soundly without worry of running out of breath. Probably the first time in years. He really doesn't wake up fully until the next day. He does respond to our voices and squeezes Mom's hand when she asks. That is a good sign. We head to the hotel feeling relieved that the surgery is over, but still worried.

The next few days are all similar in that we get up, eat breakfast, go to the hospital, watch, hope, pray, talk a little, worry a lot, get lunch, back to the room, get dinner, back to the room. Say goodnight, get up and do it all again the next day.
Baby steps, that is what I tell my Dad. He is doing so good and each day he gets a little better. Some days feel like one step forward two steps back, but he rebounds and we are back on track! I have got to say that if you ever put it on your calendar to have a heart attack and require surgery, get on a plane and fly to Baptist Memorial Desoto! I cannot say enough good things about everyone there. They were all friendly and kind and helpful even when I started asking questions, and asking for a nurse every two seconds. They treated us like family and since it was just me and my Mom, we needed that! My brother Danny did fly in and stayed a couple days, and then drove their car back to MN which was super helpful.

The nurses on the 4th floor were amazing and Dr. Wolf saved my Dad's life~what else is there to say about that?


Things continue to improve and we are now pondering what to do? Fly home? Drive home? We could fly, I can fly on Delta for free because of my awesome husbands job that takes him away from me way too much, and my parents can fly free on Delta because of my brother who is an aircraft mechanic in Atlanta. What seems to be the difficult thing is to find an airline approved oxygen tank. (which you are not allowed to call a tank). So after much stress and discussion, and finally some clarity from Mark (he is my sane voice) we decide to drive. It will be a long drive, but I tell my parents it will be less stress in the long run.

I trade in my shitbird rental car for a really awesome Dodge Grand Caravan, the rear seats recline and this is a must for a 15 hour car ride with super special cargo riding in the back! The discharge from the hospital could be an entire blog by itself, so let's just say it took all damn day and leave it at that. We departed the hospital at around 7pm on Thursday and nothing was stopping me. I packed up the 6 oxygen tanks that we needed to get home, all the supplies, Babe the bear, red bull, gummy bears, and a crap load of other "stuff". My parents have never really traveled "Parker style"...they were in for a treat!Before the year is over I will own a Garmin GPS. Did you hear that Mark? Birthday is in September, hint hint.

We drove on for about 4 hours, stopped for a few hours, and I mean just a few and by 6am on Friday we were back on the road. At this point I am thinking the task ahead is pretty grand and I hope I can do it. But before you know it, it is 11am, we stop for lunch, then it is 2 and my new BF Garmin tells me that our arrival time in MN is around 5:30pm. We got this! The skies were blue all day and the traffic light, which is pretty amazing for a Friday and Memorial Weekend no less. Someone was watching over us and lifting the load just a bit. Very much appreciated!

My emotions as we travel down Highway 65 to my old stomping grounds are high. The tears just come too easy, so I try to think of anything but the last 2 weeks. Doesn't really work. We pull into the driveway, my sister Lynn was there to greet us. I was anticipating this tearful reunion and we would all cry and she would be so excited to see Dad and we open the doors and...........ATTACK, we are seriously attacked by mosquito's. I am not even kidding. My Dad hates bugs and this is torture. There is no hugging, no tears, only cussing and swatting! Almost funny. But I was really thinking, you couldn't pay me to live here! haha We have mosquito's here in Florida, but these things were fierce! Ridiculous!

Once inside the reunion was able to take place. I find myself having trouble controlling my emotions. I try to talk, and I cry. I am a blubbering idiot! My phone keeps ringing and I have to ignore all calls because I can't talk.

My flight is in the morning and so I have to say goodbye before going to bed. All I have to do is sit next to my Dad and BAM, flood gates open. Sheesh, this is getting kind of old. So I do my best to get out what I need to say, Dad I am proud of you, Dad I love you, Dad you will be fine. Mom is next, more tears. Apparently tears are not like windshield wiper fluid, as you don't ever run out!

I sneak out the next morning at 4:30am and head to the airport. It has been 13 days since I have seen Mark. He is back at work and so I won't see him when I get home, that reunion will be Monday, more tears I am sure.
I get to the airport and have such mixed emotions, I am so ready to be home, but yet want to be there with my parents and help them get through the next few weeks. While waiting for my flight I get a call from my Mom, more crying, now I am just crying in public at the airport. What has happened here? It's good news, he had a good nights sleep, things are fine. No matter, I still cry. Mark calls, tears still fall. I try to tough it out and say out loud, "get it together girl"!

On the airplane (First Class, woohoo) I start thinking about my Dad, oh here they come, more tears. Come on!! I mean really! Once outside in the Florida sunshine I start to feel better, haven't cried in about 5 minutes. Excited to see my two dogs, glad to be "home". I test the waters by calling a friend from the car, pretty successful, only watery eyes, not a full on cry. Things are looking up. I call my Mom, the real test. Dad has had a good day, medicines taken care of, mosquito's aren't so bad, I get through the call without crying! Success!

In conclusion, and I know I need to wrap it up here, this is way toooo long! I have learned that when faced with an emergency, you can do the things that you need to do. You know, you always wonder if when your parents get older and get sick, can I do it? Can I take care of them? The answer is yes, without question, without hesitation, yes. I wouldn't trade the last 13 days for anything. I have always had a close relationship with my parents, but the last couple of weeks have enabled me to bond with them on a level that I never imagined.

I have always been proud to have Earl and Audrey as my parents, I have always loved them, I have always respected them, and after this, I CHERISH them.

Until next time, Kleenex in hand, Mullet's out...

Confessions of a Dangerous Mind

I apologize for the length of this blog, there is just no shortening it!

A few months back the gym that I go to(Crossfit Sarasota, formerly known as Crossfit Port Charlotte, plug plug) decided that it would be a good idea to sign up for a Sprint Triathlon in Sarasota. I said no way no how. Then slowly I thought about it, talked with Mark about it, and decided, what the hell. So I signed up.

The Preparation:
We had one workout that included a swim, although not the 400 meters that would be in the race, a chance to practice your swim. I didn't drown, a good sign. Running is not my favorite thing, but I have run 3 miles before (thank you Hege) so I knew I could do it, even if I had to walk, and the 13 mile bike ride I figured would be a piece of cake, since I am a cyclist, and 13 miles is not that far. But let it be known that I have not ridden my bike in months!

The Morning of the Race:
I woke up at 4:40 so I could get my breakfast and coffee in before 5, race time was 7:55am and 1 hour away. As most of you reading this blog are well aware of my directional disabilities you can understand that I was more nervous about finding my way to the race than the race itself! But thanks to mapquest, I arrived, early in fact! Not having a clue as what to do I sort of roamed around, checked out the facilities, and then I hear "Transition area is closing in 30 seconds" WTF?? I don't know what to do, where to go, where to put my stuff, basically I am panicking! I find this nice woman (she saved me) she told me to run and get my things and she would help me, but hurry! Oh shit. Not the nice relaxed morning I had planned.

The Race:
Everyone was on the beach, talking amongst themselves, checking out the competition, I am super glad that someone once told me that nervousness does not show on the outside! For those of you who read this and are not familiar with triathlons, they mark you with your race number, but also they put your racing age on your right calf. So, looking around you can see who is in your age group. I am looking around and feeling like everyone in my age group is more fit than me, thankfully I say this out loud to my new gym friend Karina and she politely tells me that I am way to hard on myself and that I fit in just fine. Okay, maybe it won't be so bad. I don my purple swim cap and get ready for my start time.

The Swim:
400 meters, it looks far. The waves are crashing onto the beach. This will not be easy. Everyone around me is wearing goggles. I am the lone tool. I am the only one not wearing goggles and also the only one that has my race number neatly pinned to my top. Crap, I hate being the lone tool! I strike up a conversation with the purple cap next to me, she thinks having my number on my top will be fine, it should make it through the swim, but next time I should know that they make these belt things that you can put your number on. huh? 3-2-1 go! Everyone runs into the water, so of course I have to run into the water, monkey see, monkey do! All these fit women over 40 are doing the crawl perfectly, breathing every other stroke, and here comes tool girl! Breast stroke, back stroke, tread water, repeat. That was my swimming strategy! hahahahha But I can do this. The waves are huge today and you take three strokes forward and get pushed back four! Not even to the first buoy, man this is hard. People are kicking me, I am kicking people, purple caps everywhere! Around the first buoy and the swimming gets a little easier, I pass a few pink caps (aka women younger than 40) I find that I can go faster doing the back stroke, so I stay with that for a while. I hear a woman in distress to my right, ask her if she is okay and she replies, "no" so I call over the surfboard saver girl, reality sets in. Relax. Breath. Around the second buoy, and it gets much easier when the waves are coming from behind, a swimming tailwind! I keep checking to see if I can touch, no. Crap. Pretty soon I can touch and I walk a little and swim a little until I get close to the beach. I take off my silly purple cap (vanity is always just under the surface) and run through the flour like sand and crowd who is cheering! Swim: done!

The Bike:
I get to the transition, get my shoes, get my bike, my helmet and head out. I keep Mark's advise close to mind the whole time, don't go out too hard. I go for quite a while with no one passing me and me passing no one. Which I figure is good. Then I pass a few, a few pass me, and I am always looking at their right calf and checking their age. I am only concerned with 45-49. That is all. Although it does sting a little when someone over 49 passes you. I just ride along and with no idea how fast I am going or how far. I just keep pedaling at a good pace, not to hard, because I need to save some for the run. But I feel good. I stay hydrated, and keep my eyes on the finish.
Bike: done!

The Run:
I get off my bike, switch my shoes, grab a water on the way out and...oh hell no. I cannot do this. My legs are toast. I haven't even run 1/2 mile and I am already mentally giving up. Regroup, refocus. I just keep going, one foot in front of the other. People are passing me pretty regularly now, I check the calf, 26, 40, 35, 71, WHAT? 71? I am not lying, a woman ran by me, and she did the same race as I did, 71 years old, and she passed me!! I could not help but cheer her on as she went by me. What an inspiration. I chatted with a guy with orange shoes, I am getting me some orange shoes, I think they make you faster! I try thinking about scrapbooking, no good, doesn't work. I glance down for some reason and I see wrinkles above my knees on every step. HUH? I don't have wrinkly knees! I look again as maybe this is some sort of mirage, nope still there. So now I am only thinking of my wrinkly knees and wondering when this happened. Oh, it must be from the salt water, yeah that has got to be it. Whew, glad I explained that one away. I am not ready for wrinkly knees. Back to running. At this point I tell myself I am not walking. Do not walk Shari. So now that is my goal, run the whole 5K wrinkly knees and all. I feel like we are getting closer and sure enough we enter the woods which means we are close! Signs everywhere indicating we are almost to the finish, volunteers saying just around the corner, but dang corner after corner and I am still not finished, I want to walk, DON'T DO IT SHARI, DON'T WALK! Oh fine, I run until I hear the roar of the crowd and see the finish line! YEAH, I am done! I find the keeper of the phone,keys,camera and call Mark to tell him of my awesomeness!! I am proud of my time and so is he. That is all I need.



Until next time, Mullet's out..............

me and Karina after the race!

who let the dogs out, roof roof

Another day, another Parker project. Seems to be never ending here at the Mullet Ranch. In fact the other day a friend was over and looking at a before and after collage I had made for Mark for his birthday last year. I told him I needed before and after and after and after pictures. The "after" keeps changing! Oh well, if it weren't for projects what would do? Go to the beach (that would be me, not Mark) go out on a boat (if we had one) go fishing, hunting (that would be Mark, not me) maybe even ride our bicycles (GASP!) Now, it is not all work and no play here, it is just our playing hours have been decreased, it is a play cut! No fair! I work hard for my play and I want it back, dammit!

Wow, not sure where that came from.

We did have help on the roof, Jimmy Bob, Sam and Mark did most of the work. I was only commissioned when, well, when I was the only one left frankly. Thankfully, Mark and I work well together, and I am a hard worker if I do say so myself. I did start the project with a slight fear of the ladder. Not going up, that part is fine, it was coming down that just freaked me out! Yes I will gladly throw half my body weight over the roof while hanging on to an object that is NOT attached and then gracefully climb down the ladder. I finally got the hang of it after doing it 40-11 million times. My job was "gopher" you know, go for this, go for that and so on. I also helped Mark get the metal on to the roof, this is where my gym membership came in super handy! We actually got really good, had a nice rhythm going, down the ladder, lift the metal, up the ladder, measure, screw (out of the gutter now, come on) cuss and repeat, a lot.

The roof is almost finished and then we screen, gutter and put up the ceiling. Then the fun stuff starts, furnishing the space and having a "the porch is done" party! And then the pole barn project starts....Can't wait.

Until next time....Mullets out

April Fools!

Happy April 1st! There has actually been a request for a Mullet Ranch update! Who knew that people really read this stuff! So, Gary this is for you. And speaking of Gary I bet you didn't know that our UPS man looks just like you! Every time he brings me a package I think of you. He is very nice and probably doubles as a ranger of some kind!

So, what exactly has been going on around here for the last month or so? Well February was busy and we had lots of visitors. The McDonald's Cycling Team was here for a week for their annual training camp. The weather was crap. The only good thing was that the weather was crappier in Ky! Lots of riding despite the chilly temps. I rode a couple of days breaking my "I don't ride when it is under 70 degrees" rule. Just like old times! Although I LOVE living here in Florida I miss my Ky friends!! Lots of dining and drinking and laughter!


The porch project has taken longer than anticipated, which we should have anticipated! These types of things usually include...more time, more money, then some more time and more money...and so on.


We did get our permit and the project started in Feb. The first step was the concrete, very cool. The trucks were bigger than our house!



Then the pilings (8x8's) were set and the rafters installed! Each step along the way changed how our house looked and made the porch look even bigger than we thought! It has been very exciting to watch and I can't wait to see the finished product!

The beginning of March Beth and Alex came for a visit! Alex only got to stay for a few days but it was great to see him and we did some serious shopping while he was here! Beth and I caught up on Scrabble and wine drinking (we had lots of catching up to do!) I swear we played 3 or 4 games per day! It was a great time! This Saturday my niece Haley and my Mother in Law Jenny Lee will be here for a week. Haley loves the beach and the weather is going to be perfect!!

So, other than that what is going on? Mark is working a lot (to pay for the large porch!) and when he is home we work around the house, plan our upcoming projects and just hang out together.
Mark is also busy converting all our cash into gold as he is convinced hyper inflation is just around the corner! I actually heard him sleep talking the other night, I think he said "there's gold in them thar gills". Not sure about that.

We are also collecting guns and ammo and Mark has renamed the Mullet Ranch, Fort Mullet! He recently has taken a liking to camo and requests that I wear it often! So even though he can't see me, he still chases me around. But I digress, it will always be known to me as the Mullet Ranch.

This last part is just hard for me to accept, but true. After reading the blog over the funniest part is the end in which Mark contributed his individual humor. We have had many conversations over the last 17 years about who is funnier, and he always seems to come out on top. He just in fact said, duh! I will keep trying and I will also keep hanging out with the people that think I am funnier! APRIL FOOLS! Come on, everyone knows that I am funnier! haha

So now that the porch is closer to being finished we ordered the dumpster today! I think there is a Jeff Foxworthy joke in there somewhere, something like if you have had more dumpsters in your driveway than cars, you might be a redneck! Guilty!

Well Gary, there you have it. Probably more than you needed to know, but you asked for it.

Until next time, Mullets out.....