Some of the memories of the house I grew up in..
* my room had pink frilly curtains that I loved! (and I'm not a frilly girl)
* the gravel road was perfect for riding bikes
* spending hours upon hours practicing baton twirling, smashing fingertips and my nose, in our driveway
* bringing home Buster, our black cat, gosh I miss him!
* finding Socks, our adopted dog, in the back pasture and getting to keep him
* with much patience enticing Pud, our adopted stray Siamese cat, to stay around - eventually she came to live in the house with Buster, too
* being punished for fighting with my sister by sending one of us to the front yard and one to the back and being told we were to stay away from each other - never lasted long - one of us always snuck around the house
* being allowed to mow the yard - yes, I know, weird, but I liked it, still do.
* playing Barbies with our dolls that weren't really Barbies but looked like them
* living close enough to school that I had to walk - even when it was cold
* the many times I was told to clean my room and didn't
* having to share clothes with my sister because we were the same size and her wearing my new jeans for school first - very angry child
* having my shoes all to myself because my sister didn't wear my size :-)
* listening to Duran Duran, the Chipmunks, and other bands and songs thru the years
* listening to Bill Cosby on the big record player in the living room
* our first microwave was almost as big as a dishwasher!
* waking up on Christmas morning to see what Santa brought
* my sister finding Santa's gifts one year and spoiling it all!!!
* the many circles drawn on the wall for me to put my nose in and stand there when I got in trouble
* pretending to not know how to do laundry for a long time so I could get out of it - worked until it was learn or no clean clothes
* learned that a folding party was NOT one you wanted to attend!
* helping my Dad turn our garage into another living room with fireplace included - no, I didn't do much of the work....
* baking in the kitchen with my Mom - after having learned so much from my great Aunt Floy

Most of all, learned that life has a lot to teach you. What you do with the knowledge is what makes you who you are.

(P.S. Yes, I took part of the title from Miranda Lambert)

The question: Have a 4 day work week or work from home? I have a two scenarios with each an assumption for the question. The first scenario and it's assumption is that any work outside of the home is within a 30 minute drive of "home". In that case I would probably want a 4 day work week. Though it might be a 50/50 split. (hey, I'm a Libra!). I like the office atmosphere most of the time b/c it encourages interaction and collaboration. But then again, I like not having to dress for the office and wear makeup - all those good things. So really, I'm undecided.
The second scenario is assuming that I work a distance from "home" - meaning that I must travel by plane or car for more than 4 hours and it requires overnight stay. In that case, I'd rather work from home. I have this scenario with, for the most part, the four-day work week. I hate being away from my husband during the week. I'd rather work from home for 5 days a week than be away from him.

So what is your magic wand scenario? 4 day workweek or work from home?

Everyone needs a little help sometimes. Just admit it. After living alone for about 10 years it is taking a little adjustment to letting my husband (we've been married about a year & a half) help me with those things that in the gallant and chivalrous world are more do-able by a man. Now, don't go off on me on the equality thing! I was so accustomed to doing it all by myself (yes, I did have help from family for those big things like moving, etc.) that I would forget that I had someone taller and stronger and sometimes more mechanical than me to accomplish those type of tasks. A good example is our pool filter and vacuum. After a little over a month of my struggling to make the thing work my husband convinced me that I should let him help me. How did he do this? By reminding me that he worked on mechanical type "stuff" and I worked on computer type stuff.
When do I avoid asking for help? That is usually when I've been the one to break it. I'm learning more and more each day to allow others to help me. It is still sometimes uncomfortable. One task is carrying my own luggage. My mom said once that if I packed it then I carried it. That has stuck in my head and to this day I feel guilty if someone carries my luggage for me. If it's my briefcase, which is super heavy, then a part of me is relieved but the other part is super guilty!

How do you feel about help?