Before I was Dena Brown or Dena Clavier, I was Dena Adams for 20 years.  A couple of weeks ago I got a call from my mother telling me that there was a Dena Adams listed in the obituary section of the newspaper.  There are several people who will always consider me Dena Adams, and when my mom was telling me about my name twin who had just died, I couldn’t help but think of all the people who would read the obituary and think it was me.  Dena is not that common of a name.  Growing up I never knew another Dena, particularly not one who shared the same spelling as me, and certainly not one who shared the same last name. 

The day went on, and I forgot about the Dena Adams in the paper.  That is until my son called me that evening.  We started talking about nothing, and I finally asked if there was anything in particular that he needed or wanted to tell me about.  He replied “I just wanted to make sure you were alive” which went right past me.  I remarked that I appreciated him checkin on me, and then he started laughing.  Once the laughter started I knew that he must have heard from someone about Dena Adams.  Turns out he got a phone call from his Uncle Scott, the lawyer brother of my first husband, and the official Brown family spokesman, who lives in Houston.  Here’s how the conversation went:

Uncle Scott:  Stephen, I hate to bother you right now.

Stephen:  That’s okay.

Uncle Scott:  I got a call from my mother today.  She told me she saw something about your mother in the paper.  I’m hoping she’s not right.

Stephen:  What?

The thought of Scott making that call and trying to figure out how to ask Stephen if it was me cracks me up.  Needless to say, but they quickly got the story straight and Stephen informed them that I was alive and well.  He told his Uncle Scott that  things were fine, and he could get back with the rest of the family and let them know as much. 

Even though, it’s a little disheartening, if not creepy, to see your name in print in this manner. 

I love my Saturday mornings. Waking up and knowing I don’t have to pack Ethan’s lunch, I don’t have to rush out of the house, that I can hang out in a sloppy t-shirt and yoga pants for awhile. I can drink some coffee, watch the morning news, surf the net a bit and make plans for the day ahead.

Today those plans have been made for me. I have two weddings to attend. Neither of which I’m really looking forward to. I’ll have fun once I get there, but it’s the entire thing of having to be somewhere that wasn’t my idea that’s throwing my Saturday off.

The first wedding is the second wedding of one of Adam’s childhood friends. It’s a second marriage for both the bride and groom. it seems like yesterday since we went to the first wedding, a huge Catholic Filipino affair. If you’ve never been to a Filipino wedding you are missing out. The wedding party itself can sometimes exceed the number of guests. I am not kidding you. I can’t help but think back to that first wedding and the incredible waste of money that was spent on a marriage that lasted six years. The cynic in me wonders why anyone would plan such a big elaborate wedding with today’s marriage statistics.

The second wedding is the reception only. It’s at the home of some friends of ours, and they are hosting the reception for their son and his wife, a young couple who made the choice to get married in a small private ceremony this morning. I’m sure it will end up being fun.

I am desperately trying to talk myself into the idea that I’m going to enjoy myself this afternoon and tonight, when what I really want to do is make my Saturday night turn into a typical Saturday night out. Yes, not only do I have favorite Saturday morning rituals, I also have favorite Saturday night rituals.

Other than the fact that this is the day we do our Christmas decorations, this story was enough to make me happy I don’t venture out on Black Friday.

Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today and creates a vision for tomorrow. ~Melody Beattie

Wishing you a perfect day, filled with old memories and new ones made.

Today I thought it would be cool to kick the 7-11 coffee habit, and start bringing my own coffee with me in the morning in my handy-dandy thebluebook.com travel cup. Bad decision. I took a sip, and started to choke just a little.  I had a full mouth of the hot liquid when the intial choke hit me, and I spit a little bit on the windshield in front of me. Thank goodness I chose to drive Adam’s truck this morning.  But the worst thing is that the first little choke was truly just a  hint of things to come.  I still had an entire mouthful of coffee, and knew I couldn’t swallow it, because…well, because I was choking.  This left me with two options. I could just let the cough go or I could open my mouth and let the coffee fall all over me.  I chose the combo route, and spit coffee all over the windshied, all over the dashboard and all over the steering wheel, as well as let it fall completely down my shirt, all over my lap and on the seat.  I’m still amazed that I could hold that much in my mouth at once. With that thought in my mind, I need to remind you to please not share any of this story with my husband, as he would be beyond impressed wtih my oral cavity capacity, if you  know what I mean. 

Anyway, I’m not sure what triggered this entire episode, but I’m thinking it may have been my extreme excitement over hearing this amazing composition coming over the airwaves:

The grandpuppy all decked out for the holidays. Isn’t he the cutest?

Well, the picture was there…my son decided to make it is Christmas Card photo, and apparently pulled it off his flickr site.  Loser!

The thought of this woman hosting a variety show nauseates me. I don’t think there’s one entertainer in movies or on television who comes close to annoying me the way this woman does. She sucked in A League of Their Own and I LOVE that movie. She sucked in Now and Then. She sucked on her talk show. She sucked in the Flinstones movies. She sucked on The View.

I can’t imagine that a new format would make her any more endearing. She needs to just go ahead and retire. Forever!

If you feel like playing go here:

Fill in your favorite for each of the following:

1. Political show:

So many to choose from…The Daily Show, Colbert Report, Kieth Olbermann, Rachel Maddow
2. Picnic food:

Macaroni Salad

3. Mixed drink:

Vodka & Cranberry

4. U.S. President:

JFK

5. Kind of student to teach:

One who has a genuine interest and excitement in learning

6. Hobby you do or wish you still did:

Pottery

7. Sports commentator:

Howard Cosell.  He’s the only one I actually know the name of…

8. Sport to watch on TV:

I’ll just skip this one.  Well, I do watch the X Games. 

9. Animal to have as a pet:

DOGS!

10. Halloween costume you have worn:

Little Red Riding Hood

11. Kind of dessert:

Gingersnap Pear Cheesecake

12. Comic strip:

Peanuts

13. Ice cream flavor:

Coconut or Pistachio

14. News source:

MSNBC, CNN, Politico.com

15. Vacation spot:

Doesn’t matter as long as I’m getting away.  Vegas, the beach, the mountains, NYC…

16. Wine:

Pinot Grigio

17. Way to waste time instead of working:

Watching televison and the internet during the cold months, hanging at the beach or pool whenever it’s warm enough.  Wait a minute…the beach or pool aren’t even close to a waste of time.

18. Reality show:

Top Chef and Project Runway

19. Childrens movie:

Wizard of Oz

20. Celebrity you wish would retire:

Sylvester Stallone

I’ve been busy scanning in old pics for the past two days. As you can see from the photo above this was Christmas 1961 for us. I had just turned two and my brother was about to turn four. I just love looking at all the vintage toys in this photo, the television and the shiny early 1960s tree.

There are still many pictures to be scanned, but if you’d like to take at the ones I’ve scanned you can find them here.

Not for me. For some reason, I’m feeling particularly warm and fuzzy over Christmas.  Not the shopping, but the music, the decorations, the parade, the cookie baking.  Those little things that create traditions.  Those things that remind me of my childhood.  

One of my favorite parts of Christmas is the music.  I love the classics.  My parents had all the classic Christmas albums. Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Johnny Mathis, Nat King Cole, Ella Fitzgerald, Bing Crosby.  I can remember sitting on the couch right next to a piece of furniture that contained the “record player.”  Once I knew Christmas was coming I’d sping those records for hours and hours. 

This is one of my favorite Christmas songs.  The one that makes me cry whenever I hear it. Everyone has one of those.  This is mine.  Frank Sinatra and Cary Grant…how can you go wrong with that combo?

And if that one doesn’t make you long for all things Christmas, then this one will:

Now go gather your Christmas music up, and start listening.  I promise that no matter what kind of day you’re having, you’ll feel a bit better for it.