Don’t get jealous, but this is the view from my home office.

When there were the first murmurings of moving away from St. Louis, we thought we’d move West, not Southeast. The East coast has trees like these (I’ve counted 26 within my office view), something I found sadly lacking in Colorado.

My husband had always wanted a little bit of land and maybe a pond or a lake out back. He wanted to be far enough from the city to see the stars at night.

I knew I could live just about anywhere as long as:

1. There was high speed Internet access, preferably wireless
2. There was a Target nearby (and a Lowe’s, a good grocery, and a coffeeshop — Starbucks welcome)
3. There were good schools and good neighbors

We’ve found our home.

Sometimes I do get homesick. On a recent trip to St. Louis, West County Mall rose in the distance like a consumer oasis (our one-floor mall, while providing quick shopping, somewhat lacks in panache). I miss the anonymousness of the big city, the variety and selection, the seemingly endless options and the busy-ness of crowded highways and streets. I miss the history of the place.

Then, I’ll look up in the neighborhood sky and see millions of stars, or run to the store and bump into a new friend, or just look out my office window and feel at peace.

Last week, I traveled to St. Louis. My bag took a trip to Indianapolis. I arrived in STL at 7:30 pm sans bag and quickly realized my jeans, sweater and traveling clogs weren’t going to cut it for my day of meetings beginning early the next morning. The airline representative said, “just keep your receipts for anything you need to buy.”

I thought, “Plaza Frontenac ,here I come!”

Then I got a bit more realistic. I knew I needed toiletries, a suit and shoes and had about an hour to get it all purchased. I headed for Target.

My dad gives me a hard time every occasion I’ve written about Target. He accuses me of being on the payroll. I can’t help it if they’ve solved many of my shopping needs and I want the world to know. Target rocks; I’m just a fan.

In the space of an hour I found a great chocolate linen suit, chocolate slingbacks, a striped dress shirt and a complete assortment of needed toiletries (makeup, hairbrush, toothbrush, etc.). One of my co-workers impressed me the next day by figuring out within $10 how much I’ve spent when I rattled off the shopping list ($190, if you’re interested).

The whole experience was not bad because I knew I’d be suitably dressed the next day (and indeed, my bag was delivered to my office late the next morning) and I was able to get all I needed in one stop; a blessing after a long day of working and traveling 800 miles.

My daughter’s Girl Scout troop spent the better part of a weekend selling (addictive) cookies outside the Wal-Mart store. It was very cute, as the girls had made up a jingle about the cookies to the tune of Mary Had a Little Lamb. “Girl Scout cookies are the best” and so on with all the names of the cookies as part of the song. They were attracting quite a bit of attention.

Then my daugher stepped up, braids flipping, pink, fur trimmed coat puffed out, and did a total rap about the cookies. She was rhymin’ with arms flapping and hand signs flying, calling out the cookie names and flagging down customers.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” said one of my fellow G.S. moms.

“That’s right. We’re from St. Louis. Home of Nelly.” I never expected to identify my hometown that way.

Maybe my daughter, (street name Vanilla J.) will be the first white girl rapper in C’ville.

It’s snowing here, today. A good day for a hot cup of coffee and a good crockpot dinner. The other morning my daughter wanted to treat me, so she asked if I would like a cup of hot chocolate or a cup of coffee. I wanted coffee, of course, but wasn’t sure she could handle that.

“Do you know how to make coffee?” I asked.

“I’ve seen you do it,” she said.

“What would you do? Tell me how you make coffee.”

“First you get out the white paper thing.”

“The filter.”

“Yeah, the filter. Then you put in the coffee mix, then you pour in the water and turn it on.”

“OK. Give it a shot. Just don’t use too much coffee.”

She went on down to the kitchen and that morning I had the strongest cup of coffee I’ve ever had. She filled the pot only halfway and used about twice as much coffee as I would have.

I didn’t say it was bad. But I was wired until about 3pm.

I found these at the grocery store. Cool little invention and a fantastic time saver. I made soup using one and it was a five second cleanup.

Due to the snow, we’re staying in and will have a fire in the fireplace. I could use a cup of coffee.

One of my favorite books as a child is Fortunately, by Remy Charlip. An excerpt:

“Fortunately, Ned was invited to a surprise party.
Unfortunately, the party was a thousand miles away.
Fortunately, a friend loaned Ned an airplane.
Unfortunately, the motor exploded.”

. . . and so on. I’m not sure what happened to the original copy my family owned, but a few days ago, I was inspired to order a new copy. It arrived today and I spent a few glorious moments reliving my childhood delight at Ned’s ups and downs.

Even though I was only three or four when I had this book before (I clearly recall my dad reading it to me) Fortunately is one of the books I can point to and say, this is one of the reasons I became a writer.

Also, how many three-year-olds do you know who know how to correctly use the words fortunately and unfortunately?

Is this why I’m an optimist?

In our new house, we have a lazy susan in a cabinet. We’ve never had a lazy susan before.

We also have a nine-year-old daughter. We’ve never had one of these, either, but we have had a nine-year-old boy, in the past. We know the type.

So it came as no surprise when said daughter decided to give the lazy susan a wild spin this weekend, flinging all manner of boxes and bottles about the cabinet.

I said, I hope that was really, really fun because I just know that’s the last time you’re ever going to do that.

Perplexed by Valentine’s Day shopping? You’re not alone. Get original this year with a four pack of Valentine Jones from (who else) Jones Soda Co. ($10 plus tax and shipping).

The flavor? Love Potion #6. Add-ons include lip balm, a CD sampler and coupons. Four days left to order; do it now.

When I first saw this, I didn’t think it was real. My husband shot me the link and said, simply, “I want one.”

The Optimus keyboard may be the coolest bit of technology since the Ipod. If you’ve clicked through and you’re not sure what you’re seeing, let me explain: the keys are screens, thereby delivering the first entirely customizable keyboard.

Freaky, huh?

Buh-bye QWERTY.
There’s a three-key mini version, too. These items are still in development. Here are more answers, direct from the source, two blocks away from the Kremlin.

You’re going to want one, too.