Wilson Post Blogs

As the storms were bearing down on Wilson County Friday night, I did what many of you did.

Started prepping.

By BECKY ANDREWS
Wilson Living Magazine 

It seems like it happens at least once a year. In the middle of gro ery shopping, I find myself in the greeting card isle. On most of the ‘food store’ trips, while passing this section I’ll do a quick mental check list of all birthdays, anniversaries, christenings, and graduations, to make sure I don’t have an immediate need before moving on to the freezer section. I don’t know why. It’s like a strange magnetic force that pulls me in. Before long, I can’t get enough of cut down poster board with kitschy jokes at a cost of nearly 5 dollars each. 

So it’s no surprise that on this trip, I again found myself scanning the card section because one caught my eye. It was a quirky, chunky shaped little ditty with an odd punch line. In short, it was the greeting card version of me. And that lead to picking up another, and another, and another. It wasn’t long before, I had cards for each of my sisters, brothers, 3 college roommates, and a get well card for my dad’s neighbor, who I’d only met once, but knew well enough to realize she’d get a chuckle out of ‘Mildred’s’ latest escapade.

By ANGEL KANE
Wilson Living Magazine

Often when I can’t sleep, I’ll get up in the middle of the night and watch television.

So, it was one night this week that I stumbled upon “Doomsday Preppers” a new National Geographic television show.

Within 5 minutes, I was both hooked and…terrified. Apparently, there are all sorts of theories on how the world will end.

As if I didn’t have enough to worry about, I now need to worry about the North and South Pole switching places and tidal waves destroying our world. Or solar flashes from the Sun, taking out the power grid. Or hyper-inflation causing the world as we know it to disappear, causing a run on groceries and the complete destruction of civilized life.

By BECKY ANDREWS
Wilson Living Magazine 

My youngest is mad at me… again. When we pulled out old family movies and started the stroll down memory lane something (or someone) was missing. We watched my oldest coo, eat solids, laugh, roll over, crawl, walk and fall all for the first time. Halfway through watching his big brother delight at the ape at Animal Kingdom came the first, ‘Hey! Where am I?’

By ANGEL KANE
Wilson Living Magazine

If I were running the world and had to dole out punishment to those in my kingdom, I would make them do laundry.

In particular – my family’s laundry.

We are a family of five, but some days I feel there must be 55 of us living in this house, given the clothes I am constantly washing, folding and putting away.

By BECKY ANDREWS
Wilson Living Magazine

I knew it when I married him. I knew that when it came to romance he was more Ralph Kramden than Casanova. Truth be told, my husband has never changed. He is who he is, and that’s what I love about him. While I can be a bit wishy-washy, he makes his mind up and never questions the decision made. So why am I surprised that he’s STILL not a hopeless romantic and just “hopeless?”

I notice it more now than ever, because we are trapped in the busyness of life. With two careers, two children, three pets, three sisters, two brothers, one mother-in-law and one father-in-law, there doesn’t seem to be enough time or energy to devote to our relationship. Since the vision of ships passing in the night insinuates romance, I would say we are more minivans stuck beside each other in the car pool lane.

Not being an athlete, I’ve spent most of my life…in the stands.

When I was younger, I remember attending my brother’s soccer games. And it went something like this…

We’d walk in. Dad would pay for Mom and I. Mom would find her spot on the bleachers. Dad and I would sit three rows behind her.

The game would start…which meant within minutes…so would my mother!

I’m sick of it! Every time I turn on the TV, radio, computer or Dr. Oz, there’s something else I use every day that might cause cancer, crow’s feet or cardiac arrest! If I start to feel dizzy from the only perfume I wear, I can’t even dial 911 because my cell phone “might” cause a brain tumor… It makes me want to scream… Literally and out loud and in front of TV news people, NPR, bloggers and that little twit, Oz. Don’t they know they are making an already slightly neurotic mother who suffers from a mild form of hypochondria even more unbearable to be around?

As I sat with friends at dinner on New Year’s Eve, the conversation turned to Caroline’s mother’s heated mattress pad.

“She just loves it. Turns it on about an hour before bed and hasn’t missed a night in years.”

The New Year’s Eve festivities continued, but for me, the idea of a heated mattress, seemed outstanding, unbelievable …. and completely unfathomable that I had never heard of it before!

I liken it to when Bill Gates first saw Steve Job’s iPod!  

I’ve always wondered what a stomach bug looks like. It sounds like it would be a cute little character that would appear in a Pixar movie. I’ve now decided that little twit is anything but cute.  Someone should change the description of this menacing little contagion that hits households every year just in time for Christmas. The “bug” hit us this year with a vengeance. Especially me!

End of the year means lots of things to lots of people.

In the Kane household, it means…check ups. From the adults, to the kids, to the pets – everyone gets their annual physical right before the year ends.

And in our household, we are firm believers that doctors are on a need to know basis.

That’s because I have every intention that one of my children will one day be President. And as we all know, when that time comes their medical records become public.

T’was the night before Christmas and all through the house

Not a gift had been purchased without the click of a mouse.

The stockings sat upright on the living room floor,

No chimney meant Santa would be using the door.

The children complained about going to bed

And because the XBOX controller batteries were dead!

Mom and Dad in work clothes, trying to wrap

Not believing that once again, they bought all of this crap