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AH!!! Amazing vintage Schwinn bikes found in my grandpa’s garage IN PERFECT CONDITION!

Now how to get them to New York…

We’ve Got The Best Team…

Being born and raised in Green Bay, Wisconsin means maybe I like cheese, beer, and polka music, but you better believe I love my Packers. There’s no alternative in Titletown; above all else you fear and love God, your family, and the Pack—and not necessarily in that order. During the glory years, my middle school days, everyone had a Packer jersey (mine was Robert Brooks; sisters had Reggie White and Edgar Bennett) and almost everyone had a Packer Starter jacket. Every Friday was Packer Spirit Day and the school hallways were flooded with a sea of Green and Gold. You got on the school bus every Monday and at 7 am without fail the Packer Polka came on the radio. The Pack won the Super Bowl in ‘97 and school was released early the day after, and my dad picked us up even before we were released, and we stood outside in a snowbank in snow pants and boots for the ticker-tape parade, and I high-fived the players as they drove by with the Lombardi trophy, and my dad said “this is a day you’ll never forget,” and he was right.

Green Bay is a place where kids ride their bikes up to the stadium, and the players (yes, even Favre) hop on and ride on the back pegs to the practice field across the street. Green Bay is a place where fans go to the two-gate airport and wait to cheer on the Pack when they return from away games. Green Bay is a place where residents never oppose any tax that benefits the team. In 1980, when he moved to Green Bay, my dad got on the list for season tickets. He was number 7,500. Three decades later, he’s 1,100.

My dad is the biggest Packer fan I know. Our basement is an actual sports bar with memorabilia you’d be hard-pressed to find anywhere else. On game day, my dad turns off the ringer on our landline. He dances around when the Pack scores and fumes in silence when they’re behind. Some of my best family memories revolve around the Pack. Packer-themed birthday parties, Sunday chicken in the living room, being at Lambeau with my dad—heat packs in my Sorels—for the Packer-Seahawks overtime win in ‘04. Every Monday, my dad picked me and my sisters up and we drove—four across the cab of his tiny pick-up truck—to the taping of Larry McCarren’s Locker Room show. We each got one soda as we waited (always got there early for good seats), and each week we took turns going up to ask Larry one question, perfectly drafted by pops himself. (Although I believe Katie was the only one that ever got on-air.)

One of my top three regrets in life is that I backed out on booking a flight home to Green Bay for the game. More than anything, my love affair with the Pack is about my family, and I think that rings true for most Cheeseheads.

My Facebook feed has been bombarded with Packer posts, including some of the ones listed below. Read on if you want to better understand what it means to be a true fan. GO PACK.

The only pet I’ve ever wanted was a bunny. But I’m one of those kids who grew up animal-less, save for a baby turtle my mom caught in the river (that I had to release once I was 100% attached) and a barn cat on my uncle’s farm named Misty (it was gray).
But I wanted a bunny so bad. One day while staying at my grandma’s house (all of my best ideas were spawned there, ie: vegetarianism), I walked to the town library, checked out a book on rabbits, brought it back to her house, and sat at her dining room table, copying the information into a spiral notebook. I filled the entire thing. Thinking this showed responsibility and would impress my mom (seriously, to this day I think it’s one of the cutest things I’ve ever done), I presented it to her when she came to pick me up. I thought it was a done deal. I even had the names picked out: Violet (after the Boxcar Children character—I own every book) and Jellybean.
I distinctly remember she looked at the notebook and said “no.”
Maybe the time has finally come…
(via noraleah:capucha:abadrivera:space-and-time)

The only pet I’ve ever wanted was a bunny. But I’m one of those kids who grew up animal-less, save for a baby turtle my mom caught in the river (that I had to release once I was 100% attached) and a barn cat on my uncle’s farm named Misty (it was gray).

But I wanted a bunny so bad. One day while staying at my grandma’s house (all of my best ideas were spawned there, ie: vegetarianism), I walked to the town library, checked out a book on rabbits, brought it back to her house, and sat at her dining room table, copying the information into a spiral notebook. I filled the entire thing. Thinking this showed responsibility and would impress my mom (seriously, to this day I think it’s one of the cutest things I’ve ever done), I presented it to her when she came to pick me up. I thought it was a done deal. I even had the names picked out: Violet (after the Boxcar Children character—I own every book) and Jellybean.

I distinctly remember she looked at the notebook and said “no.”

Maybe the time has finally come…

(via noraleah:capucha:abadrivera:space-and-time)

(reblogged from noraleah)

Quite possibly my highlight of 2010. Happy New Years, y’all.

Moker pyramid. Just your average nite at home.

"I am home on vacation today…shoveling was a nice treat."

Some people are meant to live in the Midwest. Anyone who utters/writes this phrase (aka my mom) most definitely is.

Your 2 blogs are heavily “_ELL” related. I click on your regular blog, and it is the museum sign of Hell Yes. I click on your food blog, and the first entry is Hell’s Kitchen. Just thought you may want to change this up to something more heavenly! :)
My mom. Best email…ever.

My sister's potential wedding date foiled by a cattle sale

  • Mom: Just thought of a huge problem...The UP State Fair and steer sale next year is Aug 15-21. That means the sale and steer show is on 8/20. We will need to talk about this.

Sunday afternoon orchestra practice in Millennium Park, Chicago

Twelve Months of Travel June: Road Trip Across the Homeland

In ten days I hit Evanston, Illinois; Chicago; Madison; Green Bay; Menominee, Michigan; and Milwaukee. In those places, my sister got engaged, my future brother-in-law received his MBA from Northwestern, I celebrated Father’s Day with my pops, and a dear high school friend said her marriage vows. In the spaces between there was lots of laughter, green grass, strawberry patches, bike rides, concerts, dancing, and full tummies.

It’s comforting to know that whatever happens to me in life, home will always be a happy place I can return to.

So wait, lady gaga’s a boy? She’s not a lady?
My aunt. Thanksgiving dinner conversation takes a turn.