Well, the truth is they probably never left.
Our contract ran out with Mr. Edwards and now we are on our own. Best we can tell, there are two beavers left in the pond. Two very smart, very rude beavers.
They take stuff without asking and everything!
We've ordered some humane traps but my neighbor said that beavers can become "trap wise." She should know.
After all of her lovely tropical plants were stolen she became the neighborhood expert on beavers. In fact, people come from all over to see her as she sits in her back yard wearing one of those OhWiseOne capes, sitting in front of a small fire with her trusty dog by her side, passing out ice cream sandwiches instead of a peace pipe (she doesn't smoke) and mumbling things like, "Don't... plant... banana... trees.... Ommmmm....."
Or something like that.
Anyway, my husband cut down some shrubs and unwanted brush between our yard and the pond thereby making unobstructed access to his garden. The beavers are loving it. They have tunneled, chopped, chewed, gnawed and clawed their way onto the bank of the pond and into our yard.
They really need to work on their manners. However, their digestive systems must be in top condition. Lack of dietary fiber is not a problem.
Now, if only we could get them to eat all of the newly grown Spring weeds instead. I think we should hire a Beaver Whisperer.
"Ommmmmmm..."
Monday, March 17, 2008
Saturday, March 15, 2008
In celebration of St. Patrick himself
This afternoon, I was on a mission to rid the country of all its snakes. I thought I'd start with the back yard.
Daughter told me that she and the neighbor saw a snake on our dock. It was "all black", so she said. I assumed it was probably a harmless king snake.
Later, when she shared the story with her Daddy, it went something like this...
"We saw a snake. It was shaking its tail and hissing at Ms. R. It didn't bite her, though."
EEEEEEKKK!
I informed her that these details she failed to give earlier were vitally important.
So I went out on the dock with my big shovel and searched, bent on killing me a varmint.
When I saw it, it was curled up, shaking its tail and slithering its disgusting snake tongue at me. Yuck. I walked carefully behind it and just as it slinked down between the dock's boards, I jabbed it with the shovel.
It lived. But right now it is taking a powerful dose of reptile extra strength Tylenol for that nasty shovel injury.
When hubs came outside with me, the snake was poking his head between the boards. We still couldn't finish it off. Hubs is convinced it isn't a water moccasin, but me? I ain't so sure...
It looked an awful lot like the snake I killed last summer but it was so hard to tell.
Tomorrow, I plan to make a positive ID.
I know that tomorrow is Sunday and there is probably some commandment against killing snakes on The Lord's Day, but a girl can't rest with a could-be poisonous snake slithering somewhere in her yard.
Daughter told me that she and the neighbor saw a snake on our dock. It was "all black", so she said. I assumed it was probably a harmless king snake.
Later, when she shared the story with her Daddy, it went something like this...
"We saw a snake. It was shaking its tail and hissing at Ms. R. It didn't bite her, though."
EEEEEEKKK!
I informed her that these details she failed to give earlier were vitally important.
So I went out on the dock with my big shovel and searched, bent on killing me a varmint.
When I saw it, it was curled up, shaking its tail and slithering its disgusting snake tongue at me. Yuck. I walked carefully behind it and just as it slinked down between the dock's boards, I jabbed it with the shovel.
It lived. But right now it is taking a powerful dose of reptile extra strength Tylenol for that nasty shovel injury.
When hubs came outside with me, the snake was poking his head between the boards. We still couldn't finish it off. Hubs is convinced it isn't a water moccasin, but me? I ain't so sure...
It looked an awful lot like the snake I killed last summer but it was so hard to tell.
Tomorrow, I plan to make a positive ID.
I know that tomorrow is Sunday and there is probably some commandment against killing snakes on The Lord's Day, but a girl can't rest with a could-be poisonous snake slithering somewhere in her yard.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Hey, Scarecrow. Call me Mrs. King.
While everyone else was at Target buying plastic Easter grass and Peeps, I was at the Sheriff's Department getting fingerprinted.
A volunteer job I signed up for requires a routine background check. Yesterday, I was handed a fingerprinting card and directions. Once I found my way to the Sheriff's office, I took a seat. (OK, I didn't actually take a seat; that may be mistaken for stealing. Technically, I borrowed a seat.)
So, anyway, I borrowed a seat and waited across from a man who was heavily tattooed. Normally, this would make me feel uneasy, but there were very strong men who were armed in the next room. With badges and stuff.
Within a few minutes, they called me back and I explained that I needed to be fingerprinted. I put my purse down on the counter and handed the officer my envelope.
"Is this for a concealed weapons permit?" he questioned.
"Do I look like I need a concealed weapons permit?" I asked in bewilderment.
"No, but most of the time those people have the same kind of envelope and they put it on the counter face down the way you did," he explained.
Um....kay.
The officer started the fingerprinting process. (It's digital now! CoooWel!!)
Then, trying to be the considerate person that my Mama would have me be, I picked up my purse to get it out of the way and put it on my shoulder.
"You can leave your purse there, M'am. It is safe behind that plate of bullet proof glass."
We were not off to a good start. Can ya tell? I politely said I was only trying to move it out of the way and then placed it to the side.
I stood there with the officer holding my hand, carefully rolling each finger to get a copy of my prints.
"What do you do for a living?" he asked.
"I'm a Stay-At-Home Mom," I answered.
"Your prints are very faint. You use too many cleaning products. They are destroying your fingerprints. We see this in people who are doctors, nurses, people who clean for a living, wash their hands a lot, or do masonry work," the officer explained.
Me doing masonry work. Snort.
The kind and armed officer continued to roll my fingers again and again and again...
After completing the very faint and hard to read fingerprint card, he had to attach an addendum explaining that I was a "difficult" person to print and to "contact the Sheriff's office" if there were any questions about my background check.
So, now I am in need (obviously) of a concealed weapons permit so that I can carry a piece in my black and white toile purse that is in the way but perfectly safe behind the window of bullet proof glass, and I have burned my fingerprints nearly off with Clorox bleach and goodness knows what else I have used to scrub the commodes in my house.
Just your average day.
Tomorrow, I get my new identity.
A volunteer job I signed up for requires a routine background check. Yesterday, I was handed a fingerprinting card and directions. Once I found my way to the Sheriff's office, I took a seat. (OK, I didn't actually take a seat; that may be mistaken for stealing. Technically, I borrowed a seat.)
So, anyway, I borrowed a seat and waited across from a man who was heavily tattooed. Normally, this would make me feel uneasy, but there were very strong men who were armed in the next room. With badges and stuff.
Within a few minutes, they called me back and I explained that I needed to be fingerprinted. I put my purse down on the counter and handed the officer my envelope.
"Is this for a concealed weapons permit?" he questioned.
"Do I look like I need a concealed weapons permit?" I asked in bewilderment.
"No, but most of the time those people have the same kind of envelope and they put it on the counter face down the way you did," he explained.
Um....kay.
The officer started the fingerprinting process. (It's digital now! CoooWel!!)
Then, trying to be the considerate person that my Mama would have me be, I picked up my purse to get it out of the way and put it on my shoulder.
"You can leave your purse there, M'am. It is safe behind that plate of bullet proof glass."
We were not off to a good start. Can ya tell? I politely said I was only trying to move it out of the way and then placed it to the side.
I stood there with the officer holding my hand, carefully rolling each finger to get a copy of my prints.
"What do you do for a living?" he asked.
"I'm a Stay-At-Home Mom," I answered.
"Your prints are very faint. You use too many cleaning products. They are destroying your fingerprints. We see this in people who are doctors, nurses, people who clean for a living, wash their hands a lot, or do masonry work," the officer explained.
Me doing masonry work. Snort.
The kind and armed officer continued to roll my fingers again and again and again...
After completing the very faint and hard to read fingerprint card, he had to attach an addendum explaining that I was a "difficult" person to print and to "contact the Sheriff's office" if there were any questions about my background check.
So, now I am in need (obviously) of a concealed weapons permit so that I can carry a piece in my black and white toile purse that is in the way but perfectly safe behind the window of bullet proof glass, and I have burned my fingerprints nearly off with Clorox bleach and goodness knows what else I have used to scrub the commodes in my house.
Just your average day.
Tomorrow, I get my new identity.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
WFMW: Clever Storage
Guess what is in here.
Laundry? Nope.
Shoes!
We take our shoes off at the door and sometimes the entrance looks like Payless during the BOGO sale. A big ole mess. My smart neighbor has two of these baskets in her home for her family's shoes- one at the front door and one near the garage entrance.
I found this basket at a close-out store for $25.00! The round shape doesn't scream "laundry" and the handles make it look a little more interesting.
Any basket with a lid will do.
Go see Shannon for more tips today.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Cool New Blog Design
Y'all have to go over to Linda's to see her new blog design.
Watch the coffee cup.
A-MAZING!
I'll have mine strong with lots of cream, please.
Watch the coffee cup.
A-MAZING!
I'll have mine strong with lots of cream, please.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Dian Fossey: The Lost Chapter
Funny how you can have absolutely no desire whatsoever to do anything outdoorsy and then your family goes to Africa to see large, endangered animals and you still have absolutely no desire whatsoever to do anything outdoorsy.
However, I have learned a few things and I didn't even have to break a sweat.
I've learned that, no matter what shade of LL Bean blouse you wear, you must always follow the Official Gorilla Trekking Guidebook while in the mist.
The official guidelines for observing gorillas include, but are not limited to the following:
1. Maintain a distance of at least 15 feet from the gorillas.
2. Do not make direct eye contact or attempt to take pictures while gorilla is looking at you.
3. If you need to, um, relieve yourself, ask a guide to dig a hole for you with his Panga Machete. (I'm not making this stuff up, people.) After you have finished, be sure to fill the hole.
My in-laws were following all (or most) of the rules, keeping their voices down, moving slowly, as they observed a family of gorillas. My father-in-law saw a silverback and decided to add to his collection of wildlife photos. He sat quietly and took this picture.
*Photo copyrighted, provided courtesy of a very brave tourist in the mist
Just as he snapped the photo, the guide said, "He is going to charge."
My father-in-law, instead of assuming a submissive stance, just sat there, frozen. (Which, to his credit, is like the bravest thing ever because I totally would have cried like a baby.)
The silverback charged and turned in another direction just before reaching my father-in-law.
Please, rest easy.
No gorilla or tourist were harmed in the making of this photo. Most importantly, no LL Bean khaki cargo pants were soiled, torn or otherwise harmed in the making of this photo, thereby avoiding any need to follow Number 3 of the Official Gorilla Trekking Guidebook.
Let's face it. Sometimes you don't have time to ask your guide to dig a hole for you with his Panga.
Sunday, March 09, 2008
It was just a feeling.
Something about the situation just wasn't right.
I was walking to my car in Wal-mart's parking lot today after church. Just as I was about to load my trunk, a large family got out of their truck. I only caught a glimpse of him in the corner of my eye, but something made me uneasy.
When I saw her, I was almost certain.
In less than a minute, I watched them walk away from the truck, his truck. He walked ahead of them. Her head hung down timidly. Her daughters and her sons looked down as they walked behind him.
A wave of fear and helplessness went through me.
Right there in Wal-mart's parking lot, I started to pray. I put the trunk's lid down and watched as this family walked slowly behind a man who scared me. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but he shook his finger at the woman (his wife?) and she continued to lower her head. All of them did.
Then they were gone, out of sight, into the store. I felt helpless, but what could I do? I really didn't see anything. I didn't even hear anything. It was just a feeling.
And thus, I write this post in hopes that someone out there will be helped. If you have just a feeling about a woman or child who may be being abused, visit this site to learn the warning signs.
If you are being abused, get help.
If you believe your computer activity is being watched, be careful in your search. Go to a friend's house or to a pay phone and call this number for help: 1-800-799-SAFE.
You don't deserve it. No one does.
I was walking to my car in Wal-mart's parking lot today after church. Just as I was about to load my trunk, a large family got out of their truck. I only caught a glimpse of him in the corner of my eye, but something made me uneasy.
When I saw her, I was almost certain.
In less than a minute, I watched them walk away from the truck, his truck. He walked ahead of them. Her head hung down timidly. Her daughters and her sons looked down as they walked behind him.
A wave of fear and helplessness went through me.
Right there in Wal-mart's parking lot, I started to pray. I put the trunk's lid down and watched as this family walked slowly behind a man who scared me. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but he shook his finger at the woman (his wife?) and she continued to lower her head. All of them did.
Then they were gone, out of sight, into the store. I felt helpless, but what could I do? I really didn't see anything. I didn't even hear anything. It was just a feeling.
And thus, I write this post in hopes that someone out there will be helped. If you have just a feeling about a woman or child who may be being abused, visit this site to learn the warning signs.
If you are being abused, get help.
If you believe your computer activity is being watched, be careful in your search. Go to a friend's house or to a pay phone and call this number for help: 1-800-799-SAFE.
You don't deserve it. No one does.
Saturday, March 08, 2008
Friday, March 07, 2008
Beause they just may have visited more continents than Meryl Streep.
So, y'all know that my in-laws went to Africa to see The Big Five.
Turns out, they saw all of them. Plus some.
For me, you know, the adventurous one, ahem, I would rather observe The Big Five from a distance, as in looking at their photos.
I have a story I am just itching to share about a silverback Gorilla once I have permission... hint, hint.
In the meantime, I wanted to inform you that my mother-in-law was not attacked by the tsetse fly for wearing her favorite LL Bean cream color blouse. Whew.
Before their trip we talked about what animals they may see. Of course, this clip from Seinfeld came to mind. No surprise there. All of life's experiences remind me of Seinfeld. (Even though the dingo lives on another continent.)
Enjoy!
Turns out, they saw all of them. Plus some.
For me, you know, the adventurous one, ahem, I would rather observe The Big Five from a distance, as in looking at their photos.
I have a story I am just itching to share about a silverback Gorilla once I have permission... hint, hint.
In the meantime, I wanted to inform you that my mother-in-law was not attacked by the tsetse fly for wearing her favorite LL Bean cream color blouse. Whew.
Before their trip we talked about what animals they may see. Of course, this clip from Seinfeld came to mind. No surprise there. All of life's experiences remind me of Seinfeld. (Even though the dingo lives on another continent.)
Enjoy!
Thursday, March 06, 2008
Are you smarter than a Third Grader?
During a cookie transaction yesterday, one of our sweet Girl Scouts offered change to a customer. I gently corrected her math.
The customer not-so-gently corrected MY math and then informed me that I got an "F" in math for the day.
Granted, it was very, very early and I had not had my coffee.
Later on...
The same very smart third grade Girl Scout offered change to another customer after calculating in her head. The other troop leader (her mom) whispered another amount in her ear.
The customer gently corrected HER math.
It seems that we Troop Leaders need to review the "How To Count Change" patch.
Or maybe we're just tired.
;>)
The customer not-so-gently corrected MY math and then informed me that I got an "F" in math for the day.
Granted, it was very, very early and I had not had my coffee.
Later on...
The same very smart third grade Girl Scout offered change to another customer after calculating in her head. The other troop leader (her mom) whispered another amount in her ear.
The customer gently corrected HER math.
It seems that we Troop Leaders need to review the "How To Count Change" patch.
Or maybe we're just tired.
;>)
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
WFMW: Backwards Edition, Skin Care for the Elderly. OK, Not yet.
OK, if you are under the age of 35, just look away.
For the rest of you, I ask this.
What kind of skin care products are you using to maintain a youthful glow? I accept wrinkles, but I don't want to be one of those people in the box on "Ten Years Younger."
Any tips?
Thanks!
Visit Shannon for more Backwards WFMW. (It's fun!)
For the rest of you, I ask this.
What kind of skin care products are you using to maintain a youthful glow? I accept wrinkles, but I don't want to be one of those people in the box on "Ten Years Younger."
Any tips?
Thanks!
Visit Shannon for more Backwards WFMW. (It's fun!)
Life Imitates Blogging
My in-laws have a new phrase around their house. Whenever they are hungry or just frustrated...er something like that, they say,"Where's Miss Melanie? We want snack."
It all started from this post.
Here are a few blog-related thoughts for me-
I think of Sophie's Mama whenever I hear about a fish camp or a fish fry.
I cannot look at an eyelash curler without thinking about Big Mama.
Once, I actually found a rock in my dryer. You guessed it.
I think about Linda whenever I cook ham.
What about you? Is there anything you say or do around your house that all started from someone's blog?
It all started from this post.
Here are a few blog-related thoughts for me-
I think of Sophie's Mama whenever I hear about a fish camp or a fish fry.
I cannot look at an eyelash curler without thinking about Big Mama.
Once, I actually found a rock in my dryer. You guessed it.
I think about Linda whenever I cook ham.
What about you? Is there anything you say or do around your house that all started from someone's blog?
Monday, March 03, 2008
A Pulled Pork Update
Well, today was wonderful. I am so proud of my husband. It was a nice time of celebration with family.
In grand Southern tradition, we had plenty of food. Heaven help the person who runs out of food at a party. (Right now, my grandmother is smiling down on us, even though there was a least one gallon of unsweetened tea served.)
Anyone want some brisket and a side of beans? My freezer would be much obliged.
Love you, hubs! ;>)
In grand Southern tradition, we had plenty of food. Heaven help the person who runs out of food at a party. (Right now, my grandmother is smiling down on us, even though there was a least one gallon of unsweetened tea served.)
Anyone want some brisket and a side of beans? My freezer would be much obliged.
Love you, hubs! ;>)
BBQ, bologna, and hairspray
Before I post a thing, let me just say that I just checked my site meter and it warms my heart that someone out there found my blog while doing a Google for bologna cup.
Give me a minute.
Okay, I'm fine now.
Today is kind of a big day for hubs at work. There will be some special recognition that is work-related and some stuff like that. That's about all I can say here.
So anyway, because of THE KIND OF A BIG THING THAT I CAN'T SHARE WITH THE INTERNET, there has been a lot of planning and preparation like who will be there, what will be said, what kind of food to have, and of course, what I am going to wear!
Fortunately, I have the best friend from fashion heaven who understands not only style, but grace and figure flaws-namely mine. I found an outfit on Friday and it is ironed and ready to go. My daughter already had an outfit, although she protested when I told her she could not wear flip-flops or her cowgirl boots.
So, on the what-t0-wear list, we are officially checked off.
As for the food, we went with BBQ. It is a casual lunch and you just can't go more casual than BBQ, except for maybe bologna cup. But, there could be up to 50 people there and the thought of me scooping that many ice cream scoops of mashed potatoes then having to melt all that cheese, well.
Plus, BBQ smells good. The aroma of pulled pork and beef brisket will catch a current from the A/C duct and beckon people to the room. We won't even have to make an announcement on the intercom.
So now all I have to do this morning is get myself ready. My daughter is halfway there- she rolled her hair on sponge rollers last night "special for Daddy."
And can I just stop here and take another minute because the thought of my daughter understanding that Important Event = Need For Good Hair. OH, people. No Mother's Day card could touch my heart more.
She has asked me for the last 30 minutes if she could go ahead and get dressed even though we don't have to be there for 3 hours. No matter, she's got good hair and she needs accessories to go with it.
All of this being said, I need to go now and work on my own hair because mine requires a lot more work than sponge rollers and a little hairspray.
Plus, I am not nearly as cute as my daughter.
Give me a minute.
Okay, I'm fine now.
Today is kind of a big day for hubs at work. There will be some special recognition that is work-related and some stuff like that. That's about all I can say here.
So anyway, because of THE KIND OF A BIG THING THAT I CAN'T SHARE WITH THE INTERNET, there has been a lot of planning and preparation like who will be there, what will be said, what kind of food to have, and of course, what I am going to wear!
Fortunately, I have the best friend from fashion heaven who understands not only style, but grace and figure flaws-namely mine. I found an outfit on Friday and it is ironed and ready to go. My daughter already had an outfit, although she protested when I told her she could not wear flip-flops or her cowgirl boots.
So, on the what-t0-wear list, we are officially checked off.
As for the food, we went with BBQ. It is a casual lunch and you just can't go more casual than BBQ, except for maybe bologna cup. But, there could be up to 50 people there and the thought of me scooping that many ice cream scoops of mashed potatoes then having to melt all that cheese, well.
Plus, BBQ smells good. The aroma of pulled pork and beef brisket will catch a current from the A/C duct and beckon people to the room. We won't even have to make an announcement on the intercom.
So now all I have to do this morning is get myself ready. My daughter is halfway there- she rolled her hair on sponge rollers last night "special for Daddy."
And can I just stop here and take another minute because the thought of my daughter understanding that Important Event = Need For Good Hair. OH, people. No Mother's Day card could touch my heart more.
She has asked me for the last 30 minutes if she could go ahead and get dressed even though we don't have to be there for 3 hours. No matter, she's got good hair and she needs accessories to go with it.
All of this being said, I need to go now and work on my own hair because mine requires a lot more work than sponge rollers and a little hairspray.
Plus, I am not nearly as cute as my daughter.
Saturday, March 01, 2008
Your average Saturday...
Wake up to daughter giggling with her Daddy.
Shuffle to kitchen and realize OUT OF MILK which means NO COFFEE.
Get ready and head to basketball game.
Stop by McDonald's for a large coffee, 3 creams.
Cheer heart out.
Return home, change.
Go to birthday party.
Go to grocery store. GET MILK.
Return home.
Laugh with family visiting.
Cook dinner.
Eat dinner.
Let husband clean kitchen.
Laugh some more with family visiting.
Make a pot of coffee.
Coffee in hand, with milk... ahhh....
Blogging.
Shuffle to kitchen and realize OUT OF MILK which means NO COFFEE.
Get ready and head to basketball game.
Stop by McDonald's for a large coffee, 3 creams.
Cheer heart out.
Return home, change.
Go to birthday party.
Go to grocery store. GET MILK.
Return home.
Laugh with family visiting.
Cook dinner.
Eat dinner.
Let husband clean kitchen.
Laugh some more with family visiting.
Make a pot of coffee.
Coffee in hand, with milk... ahhh....
Blogging.
Friday, February 29, 2008
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Thursday Thirteen: What I miss about high school
1. I could blame this dreadful acne break out on pizza and Original Doritoes. (Which is the cause now, but I don't want to admit that I still eat any of that.)
2. I could sleep in on Saturdays.
3. Whenever something funny happens on TV, I could run in my room and talk to my friend FOR HOURS. Now I just do that online.
4. Leg warmers could be used for fashion instead of poor circulation.
5. Sun In is much cheaper than professional highlights.
6. I could write a novel and people other than my mother would actually tell me it will be published one day.
Ahem.
7. John Hughes films
8. Pep rallies. (I didn't have school spirit. It got me out of math class.)
9. Bill Cosby. And his sweaters.
10. Being in high school meant I was almost in college which meant I was about to meet hubs. Hey, honey!
11. Being clueless that I was about to meet hubs.
12. Fashion mistakes were easily forgiven. Actually, they were in fashion.
13. Pointless lists about nothing were mildly entertaining.
;>)
2. I could sleep in on Saturdays.
3. Whenever something funny happens on TV, I could run in my room and talk to my friend FOR HOURS. Now I just do that online.
4. Leg warmers could be used for fashion instead of poor circulation.
5. Sun In is much cheaper than professional highlights.
6. I could write a novel and people other than my mother would actually tell me it will be published one day.
Ahem.
7. John Hughes films
8. Pep rallies. (I didn't have school spirit. It got me out of math class.)
9. Bill Cosby. And his sweaters.
10. Being in high school meant I was almost in college which meant I was about to meet hubs. Hey, honey!
11. Being clueless that I was about to meet hubs.
12. Fashion mistakes were easily forgiven. Actually, they were in fashion.
13. Pointless lists about nothing were mildly entertaining.
;>)
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Praise The Lord and pass the Peanut Butter Patties.
The day, it was profound. There were so many moments that could be put into a post and so many parallels and metaphors that they could all very well outnumber the boxes of cookies we counted.
That would be over 1,100. I know I'm long-winded and Southern and all, but only Margaret Mitchell could write that much about cookies.
To be honest, we didn't have to count them one at a time, just by the dozens. And dozens. And dozens. And dozens. But first we had to pick them all up from the warehouse.
Fortunately for us, a friend of a family member allowed us to borrow a moving van. This is how the pros do it, people. We don't pick up our girl scout cookies in an SUV or some fancy Town And Country.
Oh, no. We use Mayflower. It was good enough for the Pilgrims.
In some circles, people say that there were two women on the Mayflower who sold boxes of Thin Mints to the Pilgrims while mumbling something about a Troop Fund. Over the years, the story got all twisted and now the history books say that some of the early settlers fell ill from smallpox or something, but we all know they got sick from eating too many Girl Scout Cookies.
You should have seen us loading the van. The kind Mover People Guys kept bringing cases of cookies on huge pallets with one of those trucks you see in Home Depot. You know, the ones they use to put the lumber on the shelves. Yep, those.
They kept loading until our Mayflower van was full from floor to ceiling with over-priced boxes of goodness dipped in chocolate and lemon icing and laced with some unknown substance that makes tired housewives and, evidently Pilgrims crave them in the middle of the night. (Or in the middle of the Atlantic, depending on who you are.)
We signed off with the kind Mover People Guys and headed to the other troop leader's home. She was just ahead of me obeying every traffic law and speed limit because she's a troop leader and a shining example to budding girls. And she was hauling thousands of dollars worth of cookies!
I kept picturing her getting in an accident and the cookies going everywhere in slow motion. Only I kept seeing thousands of dollars blowing in the wind and all over the road and the two of us in front of Council explaining why we did not quite meet the deadline to turn in our cookie money because the cookies were all scattered on the side of the road.
Ahem.
Once we got back to her house, the fun really began. We counted and sorted individual orders and then it started to rain. Thankfully, the clouds parted and the sun began to shine brightly on our Mayflower madness.
After three hours or so, we were finished and ready for our parents to pick up their orders after school. Let me just say, the image of two women in a van peddling sugar in the school parking lot- it is surreal.
You would think that after all of the sorting and counting that I wouldn't want to see another Girl Scout Cookie, but you would be wrong. So wrong. I am sitting here eating Peanut Butter Patties and they are quite divine. In fact, they were the first thing I thought of when I poured my cup of coffee this morning. I blame it all on the addictive substance they dip them in, oh, and the chocolate.
Hey, they were good enough for the Pilgrims.
That would be over 1,100. I know I'm long-winded and Southern and all, but only Margaret Mitchell could write that much about cookies.
To be honest, we didn't have to count them one at a time, just by the dozens. And dozens. And dozens. And dozens. But first we had to pick them all up from the warehouse.
Fortunately for us, a friend of a family member allowed us to borrow a moving van. This is how the pros do it, people. We don't pick up our girl scout cookies in an SUV or some fancy Town And Country.
Oh, no. We use Mayflower. It was good enough for the Pilgrims.
In some circles, people say that there were two women on the Mayflower who sold boxes of Thin Mints to the Pilgrims while mumbling something about a Troop Fund. Over the years, the story got all twisted and now the history books say that some of the early settlers fell ill from smallpox or something, but we all know they got sick from eating too many Girl Scout Cookies.
You should have seen us loading the van. The kind Mover People Guys kept bringing cases of cookies on huge pallets with one of those trucks you see in Home Depot. You know, the ones they use to put the lumber on the shelves. Yep, those.
They kept loading until our Mayflower van was full from floor to ceiling with over-priced boxes of goodness dipped in chocolate and lemon icing and laced with some unknown substance that makes tired housewives and, evidently Pilgrims crave them in the middle of the night. (Or in the middle of the Atlantic, depending on who you are.)
We signed off with the kind Mover People Guys and headed to the other troop leader's home. She was just ahead of me obeying every traffic law and speed limit because she's a troop leader and a shining example to budding girls. And she was hauling thousands of dollars worth of cookies!
I kept picturing her getting in an accident and the cookies going everywhere in slow motion. Only I kept seeing thousands of dollars blowing in the wind and all over the road and the two of us in front of Council explaining why we did not quite meet the deadline to turn in our cookie money because the cookies were all scattered on the side of the road.
Ahem.
Once we got back to her house, the fun really began. We counted and sorted individual orders and then it started to rain. Thankfully, the clouds parted and the sun began to shine brightly on our Mayflower madness.
After three hours or so, we were finished and ready for our parents to pick up their orders after school. Let me just say, the image of two women in a van peddling sugar in the school parking lot- it is surreal.
You would think that after all of the sorting and counting that I wouldn't want to see another Girl Scout Cookie, but you would be wrong. So wrong. I am sitting here eating Peanut Butter Patties and they are quite divine. In fact, they were the first thing I thought of when I poured my cup of coffee this morning. I blame it all on the addictive substance they dip them in, oh, and the chocolate.
Hey, they were good enough for the Pilgrims.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Tossin' the cookies
Oh, y'all have no idea.
No idea.
So much material.
So. Little. Energy.
The Great Cookie Count '08 to be continued...
No idea.
So much material.
So. Little. Energy.
The Great Cookie Count '08 to be continued...
Monday, February 25, 2008
Cookies of Biblical Proportions
I covet your prayers, Internets.
Tomorrow I, along with the other troop leader, will be counting over 1000 boxes of Girl Scout Cookies. That's oh, at least 300 boxes of Thin Mints, a couple hundred boxes of Peanut Butter patties, and who knows how many boxes of LEMONADES!
And we won't be eating a one of them. OK. Maybe just a few... from my daughter's order.
Is there some kind of self-control patch?
Tomorrow I, along with the other troop leader, will be counting over 1000 boxes of Girl Scout Cookies. That's oh, at least 300 boxes of Thin Mints, a couple hundred boxes of Peanut Butter patties, and who knows how many boxes of LEMONADES!
And we won't be eating a one of them. OK. Maybe just a few... from my daughter's order.
Is there some kind of self-control patch?
Sunday, February 24, 2008
And the award for Most Ungrateful goes to...
The TV is on and I keep flipping the channels back and forth between the academy awards and HGTV.
I was watching Food Network a little while ago- some cooking contest. My husband said it was "riveting" with the same sarcasm you usually find here.
I have to say. The impeding results of the poultry burger contest were too suspenseful for my weak heart.
So I am back to watching the awards with quotes and clips of movies I have never seen.
Is it just me or do y'all feel like we haven't missed much this year? The quality of movies has gone downhill over the years, but hello, Hollywood. We are all pretty sick of the same ole themes....
"American does something abroad which causes the world to hate America."
"American does something at home which causes the world to hate America."
"American does something at home which causes other Americans to hate America."
"We hate America just... because we can."
Really, Hollywood. Do you honestly believe that this many people hate America?
If so, then tell me this. Which direction are the majority of people going? Are they leaving America or trying to get in?
When people are at war or in harm's way, whose flag are they glad to see waving in the midst of soldiers or relief workers arriving to rescue them?
Tell me, Hollywood. Why do you hate America so much?
The country where you are free to make films with minimum censorship, films which degrade and mock the principles and the people who provide your freedom.
The country where you are free to earn literally millions of dollars for one of these films.
Tell me, Hollywood. Why do you hate America so much?
I, for one, love my country. I think I'll turn off the television now...
I was watching Food Network a little while ago- some cooking contest. My husband said it was "riveting" with the same sarcasm you usually find here.
I have to say. The impeding results of the poultry burger contest were too suspenseful for my weak heart.
So I am back to watching the awards with quotes and clips of movies I have never seen.
Is it just me or do y'all feel like we haven't missed much this year? The quality of movies has gone downhill over the years, but hello, Hollywood. We are all pretty sick of the same ole themes....
"American does something abroad which causes the world to hate America."
"American does something at home which causes the world to hate America."
"American does something at home which causes other Americans to hate America."
"We hate America just... because we can."
Really, Hollywood. Do you honestly believe that this many people hate America?
If so, then tell me this. Which direction are the majority of people going? Are they leaving America or trying to get in?
When people are at war or in harm's way, whose flag are they glad to see waving in the midst of soldiers or relief workers arriving to rescue them?
Tell me, Hollywood. Why do you hate America so much?
The country where you are free to make films with minimum censorship, films which degrade and mock the principles and the people who provide your freedom.
The country where you are free to earn literally millions of dollars for one of these films.
Tell me, Hollywood. Why do you hate America so much?
I, for one, love my country. I think I'll turn off the television now...
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Please send loving comments...
After a long battle in the hospital this week, Roxanne's father has gone on to be with the Lord.
Please pay Roxanne a visit today.
Our hearts and prayers are with your family, Roxanne.
In Deepest Sympathy,
Melanie
Please pay Roxanne a visit today.
Our hearts and prayers are with your family, Roxanne.
In Deepest Sympathy,
Melanie
Friday, February 22, 2008
Living inside the box.
I am supposed to be at church sorting and organizing my Sunday School room, but I am on the computer reading blogs. What can I say? It's my morning paper.
We just rearranged some rooms to make room for another class. Some of the supplies have been moved and now I need to go up there to organize it all.
Some of you would just be tickled to death to be putting things in plastic containers with little labels that read "crayons" and "glue sticks" but for me, that is a HUGE DOWNER.
Later I have to put tiny pony beads in Ziploc bags for Girl Scouts.
It is looking up to be a fun day.
But, tomorrow I might just COLOR OUTSIDE THE LINES! WOO HOO!
We just rearranged some rooms to make room for another class. Some of the supplies have been moved and now I need to go up there to organize it all.
Some of you would just be tickled to death to be putting things in plastic containers with little labels that read "crayons" and "glue sticks" but for me, that is a HUGE DOWNER.
Later I have to put tiny pony beads in Ziploc bags for Girl Scouts.
It is looking up to be a fun day.
But, tomorrow I might just COLOR OUTSIDE THE LINES! WOO HOO!
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Dear Alexander Hamilton,
I would rather talk to Abe Lincoln, but I got the Venti.
Sitting in Starbucks' drive thru, I just ordered my non-fat Venti mocha, add the whip. I reached in my wallet and you were there, right next to an old Target receipt and a half-used book of stamps. You would appreciate this- the new stamp has the Liberty Bell on it.
So, anyway. I'm sitting in my Japanese-made automobile looking at your picture. What is up with the scarf? I know that was very GQ back then, but now Clinton and Stacey would tell you to "open up the neck a little." However, you did have some good hair. For a man.
You would be shocked at what is going on in our country. The woman making my coffee has piercings and tatoos in places that would make you blush. She wears pants from this place called "The Gap." It's a store where they sell men's clothes on one side and women's clothes on the other side, but all the clothes look the same. There's a lot of white and khaki and posters about world peace. But they also have scarves, so you might like it.
The lady in front of me is driving a hybrid. It runs on gas and electricity. She paid nearly 40K for it so that she can save $3.00 per gallon on gas. She'll have to drive from here to Alaska several hundred times to make up the difference, but it will save us all from heating to death.
It's called Global Warming. Let me tell you about it.
It is the Super Bowl of Survival of the Fittest (you have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?) Humans v. Polar Bears. Teddy Roosevelt would love this. Maybe I'll write to him later...
But I digress. Global Warming is this thing we humans are doing where we have polluted the air (while sitting in Starbucks' drive thru) and all of these other dangerous things to the point that we are single-handedly making the Earth warmer one degree at a time!
We have done all of this but we still haven't improved the postal system. (We could use Ben Franklin these days. Put in a good word for us, would ya?)
There are a few other changes you'd love to know.
We are good friends with England. In fact, they are one of our last, loyal allies.
Women have the right to vote. (Yep, that would be me and the lady in the hybrid.)
I am typing on a computer on the Internet. Nevermind.
People don't have duels anymore. They just get lawyers.
We've been to the Moon. Several times. No one really cares, except for when they are trying to do something like stop Global Warming. They'll say, "We can put a man on the Moon, but we can't stop Global Warming."
One more thing. We never really went back to tea.
Which is why I'm in Starbucks' drive thru exchanging you for a non-fat Venti mocha, add the whip.
Sitting in Starbucks' drive thru, I just ordered my non-fat Venti mocha, add the whip. I reached in my wallet and you were there, right next to an old Target receipt and a half-used book of stamps. You would appreciate this- the new stamp has the Liberty Bell on it.
So, anyway. I'm sitting in my Japanese-made automobile looking at your picture. What is up with the scarf? I know that was very GQ back then, but now Clinton and Stacey would tell you to "open up the neck a little." However, you did have some good hair. For a man.
You would be shocked at what is going on in our country. The woman making my coffee has piercings and tatoos in places that would make you blush. She wears pants from this place called "The Gap." It's a store where they sell men's clothes on one side and women's clothes on the other side, but all the clothes look the same. There's a lot of white and khaki and posters about world peace. But they also have scarves, so you might like it.
The lady in front of me is driving a hybrid. It runs on gas and electricity. She paid nearly 40K for it so that she can save $3.00 per gallon on gas. She'll have to drive from here to Alaska several hundred times to make up the difference, but it will save us all from heating to death.
It's called Global Warming. Let me tell you about it.
It is the Super Bowl of Survival of the Fittest (you have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?) Humans v. Polar Bears. Teddy Roosevelt would love this. Maybe I'll write to him later...
But I digress. Global Warming is this thing we humans are doing where we have polluted the air (while sitting in Starbucks' drive thru) and all of these other dangerous things to the point that we are single-handedly making the Earth warmer one degree at a time!
We have done all of this but we still haven't improved the postal system. (We could use Ben Franklin these days. Put in a good word for us, would ya?)
There are a few other changes you'd love to know.
We are good friends with England. In fact, they are one of our last, loyal allies.
Women have the right to vote. (Yep, that would be me and the lady in the hybrid.)
I am typing on a computer on the Internet. Nevermind.
People don't have duels anymore. They just get lawyers.
We've been to the Moon. Several times. No one really cares, except for when they are trying to do something like stop Global Warming. They'll say, "We can put a man on the Moon, but we can't stop Global Warming."
One more thing. We never really went back to tea.
Which is why I'm in Starbucks' drive thru exchanging you for a non-fat Venti mocha, add the whip.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Who's in charge here?
Maggie is back from her Paris trip and she's wearing Prada.
Today I was on the phone in deep conversation with a friend. I was sitting at the kitchen counter which is only about three feet from the kitchen table. I turned around and there was Maggie-lounging on the kitchen table on my nice Williams-Sonoma tablecloth, grooming herself.
I yelled,"Maggie!!" right in the ear of my friend. (She totally knows Maggie and was not surprised.)
Maggie barely paused between licks to look up at me in wonder. She didn't even flinch until I yelled again for her to "GET DOWN! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!"
I yelled in all caps.
I'm telling you, if she keeps this up, we're putting her in a home.
Today I was on the phone in deep conversation with a friend. I was sitting at the kitchen counter which is only about three feet from the kitchen table. I turned around and there was Maggie-lounging on the kitchen table on my nice Williams-Sonoma tablecloth, grooming herself.
I yelled,"Maggie!!" right in the ear of my friend. (She totally knows Maggie and was not surprised.)
Maggie barely paused between licks to look up at me in wonder. She didn't even flinch until I yelled again for her to "GET DOWN! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!"
I yelled in all caps.
I'm telling you, if she keeps this up, we're putting her in a home.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Thou shalt not question the power of play dough.
I love my Sunday School kids. I love them with all that I am. From the deepest part of my heart, I love them. They are precious in His Sight. Yes, M'am.
They are also very useful in predicting the weather.
It appears that whenever there is a barometric change, the effect is somewhat similar to that of a full moon. Pressure change in the atmosphere is correlated to hyperactivity in the classroom.
This morning, the kids were sweet as can be but they were done. Done like a pot of rice.
They tried, bless their hearts. They did. But many of them were either getting over a cold or battling the Dreadful Pollen Blanket of '08. My allergies were bothering me; I knew their little noses were suffering.
So we had our lesson as planned. We prayed. We talked about Jesus and how he wants us to treat people. We talked about our feelings and the feelings of our friends.
Then we broke out the play dough and had church right there with the cookie cutters and the plastic rolling pin. They played and shared together as they made little play dough waffles and lots of play dough snakes.
And, you know what? They left there with a good Bible lesson under their size 4 belts and a lot of love in the Name of Jesus.
Right after we scraped the play dough off the floor.
(sigh)
They are also very useful in predicting the weather.
It appears that whenever there is a barometric change, the effect is somewhat similar to that of a full moon. Pressure change in the atmosphere is correlated to hyperactivity in the classroom.
This morning, the kids were sweet as can be but they were done. Done like a pot of rice.
They tried, bless their hearts. They did. But many of them were either getting over a cold or battling the Dreadful Pollen Blanket of '08. My allergies were bothering me; I knew their little noses were suffering.
So we had our lesson as planned. We prayed. We talked about Jesus and how he wants us to treat people. We talked about our feelings and the feelings of our friends.
Then we broke out the play dough and had church right there with the cookie cutters and the plastic rolling pin. They played and shared together as they made little play dough waffles and lots of play dough snakes.
And, you know what? They left there with a good Bible lesson under their size 4 belts and a lot of love in the Name of Jesus.
Right after we scraped the play dough off the floor.
(sigh)
Saturday, February 16, 2008
You could call it an addiction.
I check my site meter a lot. A WHOLE LOT.
You can learn a lot from your site meter.
For example, I find some of the googles that have brought folks to this blog very, very fascinating. Comical even.
Most popular ones-
"Meatloaf fixins"
"Pantyhose"
"Southern Manners"
"Cupcake Carrier"
"Octopus Stinkhorns"
Here's a bit of info for you Meatloaf Fixin' folks. Hunt's has changed the name to "Meatloaf Sauce" or something like that. That's why it is so hard to find. It still comes in the can and it tastes the same. Hunt's is just getting all uppity on us and dropped the "fixins." Although I don't really think you can get uppity while eating meatloaf.
One of my favorite googles was "Do women in New York wear pantyhose?"
ROTFL!!!
Another part of sitemeter that is very addictive is the feature which shows where y'all live. (Well, where your internet connection lives.)
For some reason, whenever my Shreveport, Lousianna reader logs on, site meter lists Shreveport in all caps like this:
SHREVEPORT, Louisianna
So, I always read it like it is yelling Shreveport to me.
HELLO, SHREVEPORT! WHOEVER YOU ARE! THANKS FOR READING!!
I'LL STOP SCREAMING NOW.
Have a wonderful weekend, stinkhorns and all.
You can learn a lot from your site meter.
For example, I find some of the googles that have brought folks to this blog very, very fascinating. Comical even.
Most popular ones-
"Meatloaf fixins"
"Pantyhose"
"Southern Manners"
"Cupcake Carrier"
"Octopus Stinkhorns"
Here's a bit of info for you Meatloaf Fixin' folks. Hunt's has changed the name to "Meatloaf Sauce" or something like that. That's why it is so hard to find. It still comes in the can and it tastes the same. Hunt's is just getting all uppity on us and dropped the "fixins." Although I don't really think you can get uppity while eating meatloaf.
One of my favorite googles was "Do women in New York wear pantyhose?"
ROTFL!!!
Another part of sitemeter that is very addictive is the feature which shows where y'all live. (Well, where your internet connection lives.)
For some reason, whenever my Shreveport, Lousianna reader logs on, site meter lists Shreveport in all caps like this:
SHREVEPORT, Louisianna
So, I always read it like it is yelling Shreveport to me.
HELLO, SHREVEPORT! WHOEVER YOU ARE! THANKS FOR READING!!
I'LL STOP SCREAMING NOW.
Have a wonderful weekend, stinkhorns and all.
Friday, February 15, 2008
The grass is always greener next week.
Waiting.
That's what I feel like I am doing a lot lately. I keep looking at my calendar, waiting for something to be over, some event to happen, a commitment to end, one to begin. I'm doing a lot of waiting, and none of it patiently.
I keep hearing myself saying things like,"Oh. I will be so glad when (fill in the blank) is over. Life will be back to normal."
Life never gets back to normal. Life isn't normal. I keep taking on tasks and responsibilities (some good, some not-so-good) that just keep me busy.
I've been wondering why so many of the tasks that keep me "busy" are not really making me "effective." I keep running here and there from one responsibility to the next, marking off each day on the calendar and not even knowing what day it is.
Let's face it. A chicken running around with her head cut off really has no sense of direction.
So, I'm praying. I'm waiting, with a little more patience every day. I still am not certain of the direction God wants me to take, but now I at least feel like I have a compass.
And you know what? He never steers you wrong.
That's what I feel like I am doing a lot lately. I keep looking at my calendar, waiting for something to be over, some event to happen, a commitment to end, one to begin. I'm doing a lot of waiting, and none of it patiently.
I keep hearing myself saying things like,"Oh. I will be so glad when (fill in the blank) is over. Life will be back to normal."
Life never gets back to normal. Life isn't normal. I keep taking on tasks and responsibilities (some good, some not-so-good) that just keep me busy.
I've been wondering why so many of the tasks that keep me "busy" are not really making me "effective." I keep running here and there from one responsibility to the next, marking off each day on the calendar and not even knowing what day it is.
Let's face it. A chicken running around with her head cut off really has no sense of direction.
So, I'm praying. I'm waiting, with a little more patience every day. I still am not certain of the direction God wants me to take, but now I at least feel like I have a compass.
And you know what? He never steers you wrong.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
My love life in a banana clip
Today is the day. The be all, end all, day of days to every teenage girl in America. The day that will either make her feel like Molly Ringwald in Sixteen Candles (at the end) or Molly Ringwald in Pretty In Pink (somewhere in the middle before she discovers Duckie.)
Valentine's Day.
I was reading this post over at Big Mama's this morning and she took me down memory lane. Back to high school when I thought Lisa Lisa had the best hair on MTV, nevermind that I also thought she was in a cult.
Sigh.
I wish the 37 year old me could talk to the 14 year old me. I would try to give the 14 year old me some advice, try to convince myself that guys aren't worth it. But, knowing me, I would just roll my eyes at myself and say, "Oh, you don't understand. You are like, old!"
Then I'd just call my best friend on my princess phone and listen to my cassette tape of Chicago while staring at my Kevin Bacon poster.
Kevin. Bacon. He was the only one who could ever replace Rick Springfield. And seriously. Rick and I were close to walking down the aisle.
Oh, Kevin. I did heart you. No one ever looked that good while driving a VW Bug. I'm just sayin.'
And the scene in the warehouse where he is dancing? Oh, it made this teen girl melt. Did anyone else think he was "punching his car" instead of "punching his card?"
I remember going to see Footloose after begging and pleading with Mama. It was an event that would change me forever. My best friend had Hot Tamales and I got Snow Caps (still my fav.) We swooned right there in the theatre as Ren took a stand for something that really matters.
The right to dance. I mean, let's be real, people. Forget about world peace. There are more important issues in the world. Like Prom.
As if.
Go ahead and cut Footloose here.
It's OK to dance right there in your living room. I'm Baptist, remember? :>)
Valentine's Day.
I was reading this post over at Big Mama's this morning and she took me down memory lane. Back to high school when I thought Lisa Lisa had the best hair on MTV, nevermind that I also thought she was in a cult.
Sigh.
I wish the 37 year old me could talk to the 14 year old me. I would try to give the 14 year old me some advice, try to convince myself that guys aren't worth it. But, knowing me, I would just roll my eyes at myself and say, "Oh, you don't understand. You are like, old!"
Then I'd just call my best friend on my princess phone and listen to my cassette tape of Chicago while staring at my Kevin Bacon poster.
Kevin. Bacon. He was the only one who could ever replace Rick Springfield. And seriously. Rick and I were close to walking down the aisle.
Oh, Kevin. I did heart you. No one ever looked that good while driving a VW Bug. I'm just sayin.'
And the scene in the warehouse where he is dancing? Oh, it made this teen girl melt. Did anyone else think he was "punching his car" instead of "punching his card?"
I remember going to see Footloose after begging and pleading with Mama. It was an event that would change me forever. My best friend had Hot Tamales and I got Snow Caps (still my fav.) We swooned right there in the theatre as Ren took a stand for something that really matters.
The right to dance. I mean, let's be real, people. Forget about world peace. There are more important issues in the world. Like Prom.
As if.
Go ahead and cut Footloose here.
It's OK to dance right there in your living room. I'm Baptist, remember? :>)
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
In which I am eternally embarrassed.
This morning I stopped in at Publix dressed in my regular just rolled out of bed, ran a brush through my hair and across my teeth (not the same brush) attire which happened to include this shirt:
It has become one of my favorite sweatshirts. It's comfortable, reminds me of the sweet friend who gave it to me, and it just plain makes me smile.
I started putting all of my heart-healthy, low-carb items (ahem) on the conveyor belt at check-out when I heard the bagger say, "Uh-Oh. A writer."
When I looked up, he was reading my sweatshirt.
"Do you write? Is that what you do?" asked the cashier.
(crickets chirping)
"Ummmm....well.....I have a blog....and I write..... other things, too," I answered awkwardly.
I could tell he was so impressed.
Not.
Then I tapped my foot as the cashier scanned and I squirmed in my shoes waiting to swipe my debit card and escape the moment.
So, I'm thinking that maybe I should get a new sweatshirt that reads,"I have this other life that I live and I write on my blog, you know on the computer, and sometimes my in-laws read it and maybe a few cousins or two and friends. OKAY, maybe just one friend. And sometimes people I never met stop by to read about my daughter's funny comments on life and how my husband hates buffets and that we have a pond out back with odd wildlife."
Do you think it would fit?
It has become one of my favorite sweatshirts. It's comfortable, reminds me of the sweet friend who gave it to me, and it just plain makes me smile.
I started putting all of my heart-healthy, low-carb items (ahem) on the conveyor belt at check-out when I heard the bagger say, "Uh-Oh. A writer."
When I looked up, he was reading my sweatshirt.
"Do you write? Is that what you do?" asked the cashier.
(crickets chirping)
"Ummmm....well.....I have a blog....and I write..... other things, too," I answered awkwardly.
I could tell he was so impressed.
Not.
Then I tapped my foot as the cashier scanned and I squirmed in my shoes waiting to swipe my debit card and escape the moment.
So, I'm thinking that maybe I should get a new sweatshirt that reads,"I have this other life that I live and I write on my blog, you know on the computer, and sometimes my in-laws read it and maybe a few cousins or two and friends. OKAY, maybe just one friend. And sometimes people I never met stop by to read about my daughter's funny comments on life and how my husband hates buffets and that we have a pond out back with odd wildlife."
Do you think it would fit?
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Reality Television
Joan Steffend is hosting one of her many room make-overs, "all for under $500" and I am here on my comfortable sofa, reading emails and blogs on the laptop.
I paused to read this and this and let me tell you, it makes me want to get down on my knees right here on my area rug, next to the comfy sofa and ask God for forgiveness.
I give. But can I give more?
The answer obviously, is yes. I can.
I paused to read this and this and let me tell you, it makes me want to get down on my knees right here on my area rug, next to the comfy sofa and ask God for forgiveness.
I give. But can I give more?
The answer obviously, is yes. I can.
Monday, February 11, 2008
This just in: Hansel and Gretel were married.
Hubs and I are always talking nonsense. It makes perfect sense to us, but to other people our conversations sound a lot like Regis and Kelly before they've had their coffee.
And we all know that I look exactly like Kelly- blonde, perky, and a size -1. Ahem.
Fortunately, my husband looks nothing like Regis. Don't get me wrong. There's nothing wrong with Regis. He's a sharp dresser and up-to-date on current events and he did a fantastic job on Millionaire...
I won't mince words. He's old.
So, anyhoo.
The other day, hubs and I were in the kitchen with our daughter and we started talking nonsense. I don't know how it all began, but the conversation turned into a discussion of Hansel and Gretel.
The funny thing is that whenever we go off on our rabbit trails, many times our daughter is able to follow along, or at the very least she is mildly amused. She has learned in her tender age that Mommy and Daddy have their own love language.
They speak "Weird."
So back to H and G.
It all started with the crumbs and how the crumbs disappeared and then they couldn't find their way home. Then we trailed off into our own fairy tale.
Little did we know as children, but Hansel and Gretel were not brother and sister. Nope. They were husband and wife.
See, Hansel was eating the bread and making a big ole' mess along the way so, of course, Gretel picked up after him. Hansel wasn't even supposed to be eating the bread. Gretel made it for a special occasion- Thanksgiving dinner at her mother-in-law's house.
In fact, that is where they were headed. So when they got there empty-handed because Hansel ate all of the bread due to the fact that he didn't eat lunch earlier even though Gretel told him he would be hungry later and she made the best soup for lunch but he didn't want any because it was Thanksgiving and he wanted to save his appetite for the big meal and then he got hungry anyway and decided to eat the bread just to tide him over...
Well, you get the picture.
So they arrived at Hansel's mother's house and Hansel's mother had made the best Thanksgiving meal complete with turkey and dressing and cranberries and all the rest. All except for the bread which Gretel was supposed to bring only her husband ate it all along the way and now Gretel arrived at her mother-in-law's house completely empty-handed.
And Gretel was Southern.
So, the mother-in-law had to quickly pre-heat the oven and cook some Brown 'n Serve rolls that she had on hand because she never can depend on that good-for-nothing daughter-in-law who shows up at her house to eat and always promises to bring something but somehow always shows up empty-handed.
Suddenly, the mother-in-law catches Hansel literally eating them all out of house and home, snacking on the sugar-coated shudders and nibbling on the candy corn doorknobs when she calls them both into the kitchen for a little family discussion.
Then the oven's pre-heat buzzer goes off. There is a scuffle and then something happens that will become a family controversy that lives on for generations to come.
And that, boys and girls, is how Gretel almost became toast.
Edited to add for some clarification: This is completely hypothetical, folks. I love my mother- in-law. Plus, I don't bake. ;>)
And we all know that I look exactly like Kelly- blonde, perky, and a size -1. Ahem.
Fortunately, my husband looks nothing like Regis. Don't get me wrong. There's nothing wrong with Regis. He's a sharp dresser and up-to-date on current events and he did a fantastic job on Millionaire...
I won't mince words. He's old.
So, anyhoo.
The other day, hubs and I were in the kitchen with our daughter and we started talking nonsense. I don't know how it all began, but the conversation turned into a discussion of Hansel and Gretel.
The funny thing is that whenever we go off on our rabbit trails, many times our daughter is able to follow along, or at the very least she is mildly amused. She has learned in her tender age that Mommy and Daddy have their own love language.
They speak "Weird."
So back to H and G.
It all started with the crumbs and how the crumbs disappeared and then they couldn't find their way home. Then we trailed off into our own fairy tale.
Little did we know as children, but Hansel and Gretel were not brother and sister. Nope. They were husband and wife.
See, Hansel was eating the bread and making a big ole' mess along the way so, of course, Gretel picked up after him. Hansel wasn't even supposed to be eating the bread. Gretel made it for a special occasion- Thanksgiving dinner at her mother-in-law's house.
In fact, that is where they were headed. So when they got there empty-handed because Hansel ate all of the bread due to the fact that he didn't eat lunch earlier even though Gretel told him he would be hungry later and she made the best soup for lunch but he didn't want any because it was Thanksgiving and he wanted to save his appetite for the big meal and then he got hungry anyway and decided to eat the bread just to tide him over...
Well, you get the picture.
So they arrived at Hansel's mother's house and Hansel's mother had made the best Thanksgiving meal complete with turkey and dressing and cranberries and all the rest. All except for the bread which Gretel was supposed to bring only her husband ate it all along the way and now Gretel arrived at her mother-in-law's house completely empty-handed.
And Gretel was Southern.
So, the mother-in-law had to quickly pre-heat the oven and cook some Brown 'n Serve rolls that she had on hand because she never can depend on that good-for-nothing daughter-in-law who shows up at her house to eat and always promises to bring something but somehow always shows up empty-handed.
Suddenly, the mother-in-law catches Hansel literally eating them all out of house and home, snacking on the sugar-coated shudders and nibbling on the candy corn doorknobs when she calls them both into the kitchen for a little family discussion.
Then the oven's pre-heat buzzer goes off. There is a scuffle and then something happens that will become a family controversy that lives on for generations to come.
And that, boys and girls, is how Gretel almost became toast.
Edited to add for some clarification: This is completely hypothetical, folks. I love my mother- in-law. Plus, I don't bake. ;>)
Friday, February 08, 2008
Welcome To The Jungle
Axl Rose keeps singing in my mind every time I try to imagine what my in-laws are doing in Africa. Last I heard, they were without Internet access.
Well, that's enough for me.
Camping? Yes. Snakes in the cabin? Yes. Observing Possums and Beavers in the yard? Yes.
No Internet? I have to draw the line somewhere.
Sometimes I sit here on the sofa watching HGTV or TLC wondering, "Hmmm....it is such and such time in Africa... wonder if they are hiking in the bush, swatting Tsetse flies or perhaps running for their lives because someone wore the wrong color and aggravated an elephant who in turn began a stampede...."
Or something like that.
Then I think of sweet Sophie and Shannon who are leaving for Africa in just a few days and they will have Internet access. Oh, the faith these two ladies must have.
So, could you please say a pray for them as they step out on faith and their love for Jesus? While you're at it, take a moment to read about the reason they are going.
God Bless you, ladies!
Well, that's enough for me.
Camping? Yes. Snakes in the cabin? Yes. Observing Possums and Beavers in the yard? Yes.
No Internet? I have to draw the line somewhere.
Sometimes I sit here on the sofa watching HGTV or TLC wondering, "Hmmm....it is such and such time in Africa... wonder if they are hiking in the bush, swatting Tsetse flies or perhaps running for their lives because someone wore the wrong color and aggravated an elephant who in turn began a stampede...."
Or something like that.
Then I think of sweet Sophie and Shannon who are leaving for Africa in just a few days and they will have Internet access. Oh, the faith these two ladies must have.
So, could you please say a pray for them as they step out on faith and their love for Jesus? While you're at it, take a moment to read about the reason they are going.
God Bless you, ladies!
Thursday, February 07, 2008
If I could write a clever post, this would not be it.
Would someone call up the pollen people and inform them that it is only February? My sinus cavities would be eternally grateful.
This morning I got in the car and saw that the dust on the windshield was a pale gold. After a few swishes of wiper fluid, the dust became a paste. Lovely and Allergenic.
I just took my Advil Cold and Sinus and I am awaiting the moment when my sinuses will open up and the voices from heaven will sing songs of joy.
On another note, something is awry with my laptop. It types the letter "l" without my input. I think the CIA has tapped into my computer and the letter "l" is some kind of secret code for a secret signal to you Internets out there. The word "Lame" comes to mind.
It looks like the Advil Cold and Sinus is starting to kick in.
And, on yet another note, may I just say that the election '08 just gets more and more interesting. Interesting to those of us who have aspired to own a set of Encyclopedia Britannica.
I really should come up with a clever slogan for this year's presidential election.
Whatever it is, it will most likely begin with the letter "l."
This morning I got in the car and saw that the dust on the windshield was a pale gold. After a few swishes of wiper fluid, the dust became a paste. Lovely and Allergenic.
I just took my Advil Cold and Sinus and I am awaiting the moment when my sinuses will open up and the voices from heaven will sing songs of joy.
On another note, something is awry with my laptop. It types the letter "l" without my input. I think the CIA has tapped into my computer and the letter "l" is some kind of secret code for a secret signal to you Internets out there. The word "Lame" comes to mind.
It looks like the Advil Cold and Sinus is starting to kick in.
And, on yet another note, may I just say that the election '08 just gets more and more interesting. Interesting to those of us who have aspired to own a set of Encyclopedia Britannica.
I really should come up with a clever slogan for this year's presidential election.
Whatever it is, it will most likely begin with the letter "l."
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
WFMW- Favorite Online Shopping Sites
Shannon is hosting a fun Works For Me today asking us to post our favorite online shopping sites. Here are a few of mine.
JCPenney.com- I love this site. I click on the online outlet and search for bargains. Somedays you can find really great deals on linens and clothing. Check out the end of season deals. Unbelievable prices!
BarnesandNoble.com- The nearest Barnes and Noble is a fairly good drive away for us, so anytime I want to buy books, music, or hard-to-find movies I click on BarnesAndNoble.com. Orders over a certain amount offer free shipping. It saves me time and gas money.
SmartBargains.com- More great deals. Shipping is insanely cheap.
National Wildlife Federation Store- Neat items for the garden and the home. Great end of the season deals. And it all helps wildlife!
Do you see a theme here? Cheap. I am all about the bargain.
JCPenney.com- I love this site. I click on the online outlet and search for bargains. Somedays you can find really great deals on linens and clothing. Check out the end of season deals. Unbelievable prices!
BarnesandNoble.com- The nearest Barnes and Noble is a fairly good drive away for us, so anytime I want to buy books, music, or hard-to-find movies I click on BarnesAndNoble.com. Orders over a certain amount offer free shipping. It saves me time and gas money.
SmartBargains.com- More great deals. Shipping is insanely cheap.
National Wildlife Federation Store- Neat items for the garden and the home. Great end of the season deals. And it all helps wildlife!
Do you see a theme here? Cheap. I am all about the bargain.
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
Moments of Revelation- All before cereal.
This morning at my house-
"Am I going to school today?"
"Yes, you are."
"Then, why did I stay up last night???"
;>)
"Am I going to school today?"
"Yes, you are."
"Then, why did I stay up last night???"
;>)
Sunday, February 03, 2008
Just like riding a bike
He lost his balance.
While I was driving home from church, I saw him. He looked like a teenager- no longer a boy, yet not mature enough to be a man. A little gangly and awkward, he was riding his bike. He crossed my path just ahead of me, then I saw him again when I turned to go home.
That's when he fell. Somehow, he steered his bike just off the road and into a groove where his wheels were caught and the jolt of it all sent him soaring. He landed on a bed of pine straw among some newly planted landscaping.
I slowed down and rolled down my window, "Are you Okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," he said in a teenager's voice, his cheeks red with embarrassment. Then he brushed himself off, got back on his bike, and continued to ride.
He did look fine. He suffered more from the embarrassment than from the fall itself.
I thought to myself, as I neared home, "That's how we are as believers."
Sometimes we are going along our walk and for some reason, we fall. We don't fall from grace. Grace is a gift eternal. No, we fall in our walk as Christians, not still babes in Christ, but not yet mature.
Maybe we've offended another, or maybe we find it hard to forgive the one who has offended us. Or we have fallen short in other ways- in our prayer life, our thought life, our devotional time with God. Or maybe all of these have happened along the way and we feel that we have failed.
The wonderful part is that we can brush ourselves off and get back on. Sometimes the pain of embarrassment as we have failed as a believer can be worse than the "fall" itself. Knowing that fellow Christians have seen us stumble, we often drop our heads in shame and pull away from our brothers and sisters in Christ.
But, do you know what? Our sister or brother in Christ is there to help us up, to brush us off and to hold our hand along the way. If she offers her help in love, there really is no need for us to be embarrassed.
God is there to help us back up, too. In fact, He is first to arrive on the scene. Once we have accepted Jesus, God has promised to guide us into maturity in Christ and we must persevere-
"Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him." James 1:4-5
God's Word also tells us that just as He promises to save us through the blood of Jesus Christ, He promises not to give up on us, leading and guiding us along the way, no matter how many times we lose our balance. We must keep on keeping on, keeping our focus on Jesus, the One who suffered so that we may live with Him in Heaven.
"Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart." Hebrews 12:1-3
You can do it, fellow believer. You can make it to the finish line. Keep your eyes on The One who has already won the race.
While I was driving home from church, I saw him. He looked like a teenager- no longer a boy, yet not mature enough to be a man. A little gangly and awkward, he was riding his bike. He crossed my path just ahead of me, then I saw him again when I turned to go home.
That's when he fell. Somehow, he steered his bike just off the road and into a groove where his wheels were caught and the jolt of it all sent him soaring. He landed on a bed of pine straw among some newly planted landscaping.
I slowed down and rolled down my window, "Are you Okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," he said in a teenager's voice, his cheeks red with embarrassment. Then he brushed himself off, got back on his bike, and continued to ride.
He did look fine. He suffered more from the embarrassment than from the fall itself.
I thought to myself, as I neared home, "That's how we are as believers."
Sometimes we are going along our walk and for some reason, we fall. We don't fall from grace. Grace is a gift eternal. No, we fall in our walk as Christians, not still babes in Christ, but not yet mature.
Maybe we've offended another, or maybe we find it hard to forgive the one who has offended us. Or we have fallen short in other ways- in our prayer life, our thought life, our devotional time with God. Or maybe all of these have happened along the way and we feel that we have failed.
The wonderful part is that we can brush ourselves off and get back on. Sometimes the pain of embarrassment as we have failed as a believer can be worse than the "fall" itself. Knowing that fellow Christians have seen us stumble, we often drop our heads in shame and pull away from our brothers and sisters in Christ.
But, do you know what? Our sister or brother in Christ is there to help us up, to brush us off and to hold our hand along the way. If she offers her help in love, there really is no need for us to be embarrassed.
God is there to help us back up, too. In fact, He is first to arrive on the scene. Once we have accepted Jesus, God has promised to guide us into maturity in Christ and we must persevere-
"Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him." James 1:4-5
God's Word also tells us that just as He promises to save us through the blood of Jesus Christ, He promises not to give up on us, leading and guiding us along the way, no matter how many times we lose our balance. We must keep on keeping on, keeping our focus on Jesus, the One who suffered so that we may live with Him in Heaven.
"Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart." Hebrews 12:1-3
You can do it, fellow believer. You can make it to the finish line. Keep your eyes on The One who has already won the race.
Friday, February 01, 2008
Stranger In the Night
One would think that in the dead of winter here in the South, that one would not see a whole lot of wildlife.
Well, one would be wrong.
Last night, after some gnashing of half-brushed teeth and a LOT of reminders of how early we have to get up the next morning, my daughter (I thought) finally drifted off to sleep. Just as the house got quiet, I heard footsteps scurry down the stairs and then a little voice made an announcement.
"Mommy! There is a weird looking animal in the yard and it is FREAKING ME OUT! I think it may be a raccoon!!"
I assured her that it was going to be fine and that the animal was most likely a possum. Nevermind that she was supposed to be asleep, snug under the covers with her stuffed animals instead of staring out her window watching wild animals.
Sure enough, when we peered through the glass of the kitchen door, I made a positive ID- a grey and white, long-nosed, skinny-tailed, looks-like-a-big-rat possum.
Once she realized that the weird looking animal was totally harmless, she decided to sit at the window and watch him as he ate whoknowswhat in our yard.
And, here's the thing. I sat there with her. This is love- for my child, not possums.
We watched the big rat for several minutes as he foraged and crept in our yard, into our neighbor's yard and off into the night.
As his tip-toed into the shadows, I said to my daughter, "He looks like a cat."
"Like a weird looking cat."
"Yep, weird for a cat. But normal for a possum."
"I think he is beautiful," she said.
Then the violins began to play and the scene faded to grey. And white.
With a long, skinny tail.
Well, one would be wrong.
Last night, after some gnashing of half-brushed teeth and a LOT of reminders of how early we have to get up the next morning, my daughter (I thought) finally drifted off to sleep. Just as the house got quiet, I heard footsteps scurry down the stairs and then a little voice made an announcement.
"Mommy! There is a weird looking animal in the yard and it is FREAKING ME OUT! I think it may be a raccoon!!"
I assured her that it was going to be fine and that the animal was most likely a possum. Nevermind that she was supposed to be asleep, snug under the covers with her stuffed animals instead of staring out her window watching wild animals.
Sure enough, when we peered through the glass of the kitchen door, I made a positive ID- a grey and white, long-nosed, skinny-tailed, looks-like-a-big-rat possum.
Once she realized that the weird looking animal was totally harmless, she decided to sit at the window and watch him as he ate whoknowswhat in our yard.
And, here's the thing. I sat there with her. This is love- for my child, not possums.
We watched the big rat for several minutes as he foraged and crept in our yard, into our neighbor's yard and off into the night.
As his tip-toed into the shadows, I said to my daughter, "He looks like a cat."
"Like a weird looking cat."
"Yep, weird for a cat. But normal for a possum."
"I think he is beautiful," she said.
Then the violins began to play and the scene faded to grey. And white.
With a long, skinny tail.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Thursday Ten: Stuff I have learned this week
1. One Hershey's kiss will make a child take the yuckiest medicine. Try it. It works.
2. I really should consider politics. Watching the election process reminds me of high school cheerleaders and playground bullies. (No offense to the one or two nice high school cheerleaders out there.)
3. My mother-in-law likes to look her best, even in the deepest jungle. In a few days, a very smartly dressed woman will be among the gorillas in the mist- hopefully, not covered in tsetse flies. She packed the cream color top.
4. A non-fat mocha is better than a skinny mocha.
5. Sunday School Kindergarteners should not be in one room for longer than an hour. After so much time, no snack will make things right. Not even rainbow goldfish.
6. When your church decides to go to two services and change the schedule around, and you are a Sunday School teacher of Kindergarteners, you must ask for the following-
a detailed description of the new schedule time
an unlimited supply of crafts and snacks
Valium (for you, not the kids)
7. Never volunteer for something until you have checked your calendar.
8. When you get overwhelmed, dipping into the Hershey kisses bag can make you feel soooo much better. Or you can just take the Valium.
9. This season of Project Runway is lame. Yet I cannot turn away.
10. I need a vacation. Or a very long nap.
2. I really should consider politics. Watching the election process reminds me of high school cheerleaders and playground bullies. (No offense to the one or two nice high school cheerleaders out there.)
3. My mother-in-law likes to look her best, even in the deepest jungle. In a few days, a very smartly dressed woman will be among the gorillas in the mist- hopefully, not covered in tsetse flies. She packed the cream color top.
4. A non-fat mocha is better than a skinny mocha.
5. Sunday School Kindergarteners should not be in one room for longer than an hour. After so much time, no snack will make things right. Not even rainbow goldfish.
6. When your church decides to go to two services and change the schedule around, and you are a Sunday School teacher of Kindergarteners, you must ask for the following-
a detailed description of the new schedule time
an unlimited supply of crafts and snacks
Valium (for you, not the kids)
7. Never volunteer for something until you have checked your calendar.
8. When you get overwhelmed, dipping into the Hershey kisses bag can make you feel soooo much better. Or you can just take the Valium.
9. This season of Project Runway is lame. Yet I cannot turn away.
10. I need a vacation. Or a very long nap.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Day Thirteen Thousand And Something At The Milliner's House
Y'all, I'm a little overwhelmed. Some of these hats are getting a little itchy and uncomfortable and one or two of them don't seem to fit that well. Plus, it appears that I have more hats than days of the week.
I try my best not to take on too much, but I am stuck here, smack dab in the middle of a hat festival, at least for a season. Several obligations have fallen on my head at the same time. In a month or so, life will begin to look somewhat normal. (Normal for me, anyway.)
As Murphy's Law always has it (I think Murphy was a woman), right when I have a lot of obligations, my daughter gets sick. She has a cough and will be fine. Besides, The Mommy Hat is one that I will gladly wear, as worn and tattered as it is.
After all, it is my favorite.
But there are two sweet moms out there wearing their Mommy Hats who are about to put on another hat. In a few weeks, Sophie and Shannon are going to Uganda with Compassion International. They will be joining other bloggers as they live blog the relief work over there.
There's a lot of preparation that has to go into a trip like this, but the best preparation is prayer. Let's begin praying now as they begin this journey. Praying for someone else is one of the most precious honors God has allowed believers. It is a privilege to lift up another in prayer, especially those who are doing God's work.
Please begin praying now for the following:
1) Pray for their safety en route and while in Uganda.
2) Pray that there will be no technical difficulties.
I try my best not to take on too much, but I am stuck here, smack dab in the middle of a hat festival, at least for a season. Several obligations have fallen on my head at the same time. In a month or so, life will begin to look somewhat normal. (Normal for me, anyway.)
As Murphy's Law always has it (I think Murphy was a woman), right when I have a lot of obligations, my daughter gets sick. She has a cough and will be fine. Besides, The Mommy Hat is one that I will gladly wear, as worn and tattered as it is.
After all, it is my favorite.
But there are two sweet moms out there wearing their Mommy Hats who are about to put on another hat. In a few weeks, Sophie and Shannon are going to Uganda with Compassion International. They will be joining other bloggers as they live blog the relief work over there.
There's a lot of preparation that has to go into a trip like this, but the best preparation is prayer. Let's begin praying now as they begin this journey. Praying for someone else is one of the most precious honors God has allowed believers. It is a privilege to lift up another in prayer, especially those who are doing God's work.
Please begin praying now for the following:
1) Pray for their safety en route and while in Uganda.
2) Pray that there will be no technical difficulties.
They need to have Internet access to be able to live blog.
(Satan would hate for God to be glorifed in any way, so I am guessing this will be a big one.)
3) Pray for their sweet families back home.
3) Pray for their sweet families back home.
Pray for Shannon and Sophie to be at peace as they miss their little ones while they are gone.
4) Pray for Compassion International and the children they reach.
4) Pray for Compassion International and the children they reach.
Ask God to touch the hearts of many. One of them may be yours. :>)
Ladies, I pray for you as you each put on your new "hat,"
Ladies, I pray for you as you each put on your new "hat,"
that you will be safe, calm, and always protected
by The God who loves you and has called you according to His Purpose.
God Bless you both. Thank you for answering His Call.
"May the Lord smile on you and be gracious to you." Numbers 6:25
"May the Lord smile on you and be gracious to you." Numbers 6:25
Monday, January 28, 2008
Civics 101
Madam Speaker...
If I were at the State of the Union tonight I would want to be that guy, the Sergeant At Arms. You know, that guy. Of course, only if I couldn't be the actual President.
Duh.
For some reason, we have had a lot of civics lessons lately at our house. Maybe it is because it is an election year. Maybe it is because we have watched and/or heard I'm Just A Bill at least 1000 times.
A few days ago, I was explaining to my daughter how a bill becomes a bill. She already knows how a bill becomes a law. But we had to get to the "bill" portion before we can get to the "law" portion. I told her that if anyone, even a little girl like her, thinks there should be a law, that they should write their Congressman and tell them. If they really want to get their attention, they can form a petition.
WAKE UP!
Thanks.
Anyway. That lead to an explanation of a petition which went something like this-
If McDonald's on the corner put up a big, ugly sign and I didn't like it, I could write them a letter and ask them to take it down. They would probably ignore it.
There is no law against big, ugly signs, but let's say the big, ugly sign blocks my view of traffic when I try to turn. Then, I could write a letter to the county or whoever is the authority for signs and road safety and stuff (I used fancy words) and ask them to write a law so McDonald's (or any other business) would take down the big, ugly sign that could be dangerous.
But then they ignore it.
So Mommy draws up a petition and asks the neighbors to sign it because they probably can't see oncoming traffic either because of McDonald's big, ugly sign. A petition would have lots of signatures and that is like a whole bunch of letters (more fancy words) and it gets attention.
Then they write a new law or enforce the one in place.
WAKE UP!
No, not my daughter. YOU READING THIS!
Believe it or not, she was actually interested.
The discussion ended when my husband walked in from work and asked what in the world we were talking about. He was just as bored as you are.
Days later, daughter and I were sitting at a traffic light, waiting to turn and we both looked over to watch a man change the letters on the McDonald's sign.
You guessed it.
My daughter turned to me and said,"There goes McDonald's. Putting up a big, ugly sign."
"That isn't really a big, ugly sign. It isn't dangerous either."
"I know, Mommy. I was just kidding."
Then, if that were not enough, a few more days passed and the three of us (daughter, me and not-interested-in-politics-man) were talking about how my husband likes to bring up gross subjects after dinner. My daughter ran upstairs for a moment, disappeared into her room, and then raced back down with a piece of paper.
At the top, it read "Reputation. Please do not talk about icky things."
She had signed her name. She handed the paper over to me, along with a pen and asked me to sign it.
Gladly, my little activist. Gladly. Oh, the power in numbers.
If I were at the State of the Union tonight I would want to be that guy, the Sergeant At Arms. You know, that guy. Of course, only if I couldn't be the actual President.
Duh.
For some reason, we have had a lot of civics lessons lately at our house. Maybe it is because it is an election year. Maybe it is because we have watched and/or heard I'm Just A Bill at least 1000 times.
A few days ago, I was explaining to my daughter how a bill becomes a bill. She already knows how a bill becomes a law. But we had to get to the "bill" portion before we can get to the "law" portion. I told her that if anyone, even a little girl like her, thinks there should be a law, that they should write their Congressman and tell them. If they really want to get their attention, they can form a petition.
WAKE UP!
Thanks.
Anyway. That lead to an explanation of a petition which went something like this-
If McDonald's on the corner put up a big, ugly sign and I didn't like it, I could write them a letter and ask them to take it down. They would probably ignore it.
There is no law against big, ugly signs, but let's say the big, ugly sign blocks my view of traffic when I try to turn. Then, I could write a letter to the county or whoever is the authority for signs and road safety and stuff (I used fancy words) and ask them to write a law so McDonald's (or any other business) would take down the big, ugly sign that could be dangerous.
But then they ignore it.
So Mommy draws up a petition and asks the neighbors to sign it because they probably can't see oncoming traffic either because of McDonald's big, ugly sign. A petition would have lots of signatures and that is like a whole bunch of letters (more fancy words) and it gets attention.
Then they write a new law or enforce the one in place.
WAKE UP!
No, not my daughter. YOU READING THIS!
Believe it or not, she was actually interested.
The discussion ended when my husband walked in from work and asked what in the world we were talking about. He was just as bored as you are.
Days later, daughter and I were sitting at a traffic light, waiting to turn and we both looked over to watch a man change the letters on the McDonald's sign.
You guessed it.
My daughter turned to me and said,"There goes McDonald's. Putting up a big, ugly sign."
"That isn't really a big, ugly sign. It isn't dangerous either."
"I know, Mommy. I was just kidding."
Then, if that were not enough, a few more days passed and the three of us (daughter, me and not-interested-in-politics-man) were talking about how my husband likes to bring up gross subjects after dinner. My daughter ran upstairs for a moment, disappeared into her room, and then raced back down with a piece of paper.
At the top, it read "Reputation. Please do not talk about icky things."
She had signed her name. She handed the paper over to me, along with a pen and asked me to sign it.
Gladly, my little activist. Gladly. Oh, the power in numbers.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
You might be feeling sleepy, but you look fabulous!
I have no sense of adventure. None. Well, let me think a minute... nope. None.
However, my mama likes to travel, my daughter wants to travel (until she has been in the car for more than an hour), and my in-laws love traveling. Real, fancy, complicated traveling like they show on the Travel Channel. With connecting flights and multiple continents. And stuff.
Call me Mrs. Frommer.
In a few days they will be traveling to Africa. Africa! Like it is a whole other country. (I am kidding. It is a continent, not a country. Had you going for a minute, though. Didn't I?)
They have always wanted to see the wild animals of Africa, The Big Five as they say. I am learning the lingo so that I may impress you Internets. Or not.
For months they have planned this big trip, getting their vaccinations, planning their wardrobes, while the rest of us have been wondering what on earth are they thinking running off to Africa where there are lions, elephants, gorillas and really big insects that want your blood?
Then we remembered that they are actually going to see the lions,elephants and gorillas.
Yesterday I was talking to my mother-in-law about their trip and she was sharing what she planned to pack. Due to the fact that some colors of clothing actually attract really big insects that want your blood, her wardrobe mostly consists of tan and brown with some splashes of khaki. White attracts mosquitoes, so that is OUT.
I mentioned to her all of the many uses for Bounce dryer sheets that I have learned lately. I knew before that they repel mosquitoes, but the other day I discovered that Bounce dryer sheets repel bees, yellow jackets, and even mice.
She said jokingly,"What about the tsetse fly?"
Well, I don't know, but let me check on that. I don't think Heloise ever mentioned the Tsetse.
My mother-in-law mentioned a cream color shirt that she wanted to wear on the trip. It is cotton and comfortable and would be perfect for the heat. Her concern was the fact that cream is mighty close to white on the color wheel and hello mosquitoes!
I pleaded with her not to try the Bounce dryer sheet idea while in Africa. I do not want her to call me up on her international phone and yell,"Melanie! I am covered in tsetse flies and it is all your fault!" while someone from a US Embassy calls me up to explain that I am the cause of an international incident and Why don't I just turn on Fox News because I am about to be on it?!
Well, Mr. Ambassador, if my mother-in-law wants to wear a cream color shirt before Easter then, by all means let her. In my neck of the jungle, that is called "winter white" and it is perfectly acceptable.
Have a fun trip! ;>)
However, my mama likes to travel, my daughter wants to travel (until she has been in the car for more than an hour), and my in-laws love traveling. Real, fancy, complicated traveling like they show on the Travel Channel. With connecting flights and multiple continents. And stuff.
Call me Mrs. Frommer.
In a few days they will be traveling to Africa. Africa! Like it is a whole other country. (I am kidding. It is a continent, not a country. Had you going for a minute, though. Didn't I?)
They have always wanted to see the wild animals of Africa, The Big Five as they say. I am learning the lingo so that I may impress you Internets. Or not.
For months they have planned this big trip, getting their vaccinations, planning their wardrobes, while the rest of us have been wondering what on earth are they thinking running off to Africa where there are lions, elephants, gorillas and really big insects that want your blood?
Then we remembered that they are actually going to see the lions,elephants and gorillas.
Yesterday I was talking to my mother-in-law about their trip and she was sharing what she planned to pack. Due to the fact that some colors of clothing actually attract really big insects that want your blood, her wardrobe mostly consists of tan and brown with some splashes of khaki. White attracts mosquitoes, so that is OUT.
I mentioned to her all of the many uses for Bounce dryer sheets that I have learned lately. I knew before that they repel mosquitoes, but the other day I discovered that Bounce dryer sheets repel bees, yellow jackets, and even mice.
She said jokingly,"What about the tsetse fly?"
Well, I don't know, but let me check on that. I don't think Heloise ever mentioned the Tsetse.
My mother-in-law mentioned a cream color shirt that she wanted to wear on the trip. It is cotton and comfortable and would be perfect for the heat. Her concern was the fact that cream is mighty close to white on the color wheel and hello mosquitoes!
I pleaded with her not to try the Bounce dryer sheet idea while in Africa. I do not want her to call me up on her international phone and yell,"Melanie! I am covered in tsetse flies and it is all your fault!" while someone from a US Embassy calls me up to explain that I am the cause of an international incident and Why don't I just turn on Fox News because I am about to be on it?!
Well, Mr. Ambassador, if my mother-in-law wants to wear a cream color shirt before Easter then, by all means let her. In my neck of the jungle, that is called "winter white" and it is perfectly acceptable.
Have a fun trip! ;>)
In case you didn't already know how weird I am.
Linda at 2nd Cup tagged me for a Meme. Here are the rules-
(1) Link to the person that tagged you.
(2) Post the rules on your blog.
(3) Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself.
(4) Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs.
(5) Let each random person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website.
I hesitated a moment to share the really quirky habits about myself but after reading Linda's post, I feel totally comfortable.
It seems that weirdness loves company. Or something like that.
1. I count my teeth with my tongue. I have done this since forever and I have no idea why. It isn't a nervous thing. I think it is a bored thing. For sure, it is a weird thing.
2. Y'all already know that I hate the post office and I think I have mentioned that I hate the library. It stresses me out. I realize that this is odd, well because my husband tells me so all the time. If I didn't know this already, he continues to stress that I have issues. I keep saying I should write a post about this aversion to the library and to librarians specifically. Maybe I will...
3. I don't like board games which require strategy. I like trivia and that is pretty much it.
4. I read magazines and catalogs starting from the back.
5. I cannot eat any type of meat right off the bone. I have to either tear or cut it off first. Even wings and ribs.
6. Whenever we travel, I read the phone book in the hotel. I look up last names of our family and count how many are in there. Then I read the yellow pages. Not just to look up a restaurant. Just for fun.
Obviously, I should get out more.
Instead of tagging someone, I am going to leave this one open. If you would like to play along, just leave a note in the comments.
Go ahead. It's fun to reveal how weird you are. :>)
(1) Link to the person that tagged you.
(2) Post the rules on your blog.
(3) Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself.
(4) Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs.
(5) Let each random person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website.
I hesitated a moment to share the really quirky habits about myself but after reading Linda's post, I feel totally comfortable.
It seems that weirdness loves company. Or something like that.
1. I count my teeth with my tongue. I have done this since forever and I have no idea why. It isn't a nervous thing. I think it is a bored thing. For sure, it is a weird thing.
2. Y'all already know that I hate the post office and I think I have mentioned that I hate the library. It stresses me out. I realize that this is odd, well because my husband tells me so all the time. If I didn't know this already, he continues to stress that I have issues. I keep saying I should write a post about this aversion to the library and to librarians specifically. Maybe I will...
3. I don't like board games which require strategy. I like trivia and that is pretty much it.
4. I read magazines and catalogs starting from the back.
5. I cannot eat any type of meat right off the bone. I have to either tear or cut it off first. Even wings and ribs.
6. Whenever we travel, I read the phone book in the hotel. I look up last names of our family and count how many are in there. Then I read the yellow pages. Not just to look up a restaurant. Just for fun.
Obviously, I should get out more.
Instead of tagging someone, I am going to leave this one open. If you would like to play along, just leave a note in the comments.
Go ahead. It's fun to reveal how weird you are. :>)
Friday, January 25, 2008
The Coat
Moms wear a lot of hats. The chef hat, the taxi driver hat, the nurse's cap, the construction worker hat, and many mornings the baseball cap to hide a bare, sleepy face and a messy ponytail.
That's the life of a mom and a wife, a woman of many jobs and many skills. Sometimes I feel a little overwhelmed with all of the tasks that require all of these hats. Lately, I seem to be changing hats left and right and now I am wearing a vest.
Yesterday we had a special Girl Scout meeting and basketball practice. An unusual glitch in scheduling made for two activities on one day.
As we rushed in the house to change, I saw a package on the porch, my new coat. I'd ordered it from a catalog over a week ago and it couldn't have arrived on a better day. Last night was one of our coldest with chilling wind and a dampness in the air. I immediately opened the box and put on my new coat. A perfect fit.
Then I donned my taxi driver hat and we were off once again.
We walked in the church's gym and my daughter ran over to her team, her ponytail bouncing across the court. As I settled in the bleachers I saw my daughter's sweet coach.
She is tall and thin, not big as a minute but with a presence all her own. In the first few moments I met her, only a few words had crossed her lips and I knew how much she loves Jesus. I watch her each week on the court with the girls and even though I cannot hear all of the instruction she gives in the midst of the gym's noise, I can see from the Light in her face that her words are loving, encouraging, Christ-like.
She homeschools one son and has another little boy- a sweet, strong one-year old. Last night he was strapped to her back in an infant carrier while she coached basketball; her babysitter was unavailable. There were moms there who offered to watch the baby, but this mom would rather have him right there with her, as heavy and awkward as that would be.
You should have seen his face. He was content, a binky in his mouth, watching over his mother's shoulder as she dribbled and passed the basketball to eager little girls. Fascinated by the motion of the ball, he nestled in his little carrier against his mother's body. His mother wore two hats. And a backpack.
I knew then that I wasn't the only one multi-tasking. As overwhelmed as life may seem, I could never be teaching basketball with a baby strapped to my back. (Besides the stress, I am not athletic. P.E. brought down my GPA.)
This morning after I rushed daughter off to school, I did a little grocery shopping. It was just above freezing temperatures here and my new coat was perfect. The bagger, an older gentleman, offered to take out my groceries and I declined.
"I can get it. It's too cold out there."
As I pushed my cart into the cold, the wind hit my face. I thought to myself of all of the people at that moment who did not have a new coat, any coat. I thought of all of the hats I wear and how sometimes it feels like too much.
But I am so blessed.
I got in my car and wept. I prayed and thanked God for all that He has given me, as undeserving as I am.
Then I asked Him, "Why me, Lord? Why me? Why am I the one with a warm coat? A home to live in? A bed to lie in? This car to drive my daughter to school? A trunk full of groceries? Why do I have two loving parents? A wonderful husband? Why me?"
And in His quiet, gentle Voice He said, "Because... for unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall be much required."
Much is required.
So I'll wear my coat and my many hats and I will give what I have, do what I can, for He has given me much- much more than I could ever ask for or even imagine. Even though none of it could ever out give what He has given, it will all be for Him, to Him, and through Him. For He has given me many hats.
And a warm coat to match.
That's the life of a mom and a wife, a woman of many jobs and many skills. Sometimes I feel a little overwhelmed with all of the tasks that require all of these hats. Lately, I seem to be changing hats left and right and now I am wearing a vest.
Yesterday we had a special Girl Scout meeting and basketball practice. An unusual glitch in scheduling made for two activities on one day.
As we rushed in the house to change, I saw a package on the porch, my new coat. I'd ordered it from a catalog over a week ago and it couldn't have arrived on a better day. Last night was one of our coldest with chilling wind and a dampness in the air. I immediately opened the box and put on my new coat. A perfect fit.
Then I donned my taxi driver hat and we were off once again.
We walked in the church's gym and my daughter ran over to her team, her ponytail bouncing across the court. As I settled in the bleachers I saw my daughter's sweet coach.
She is tall and thin, not big as a minute but with a presence all her own. In the first few moments I met her, only a few words had crossed her lips and I knew how much she loves Jesus. I watch her each week on the court with the girls and even though I cannot hear all of the instruction she gives in the midst of the gym's noise, I can see from the Light in her face that her words are loving, encouraging, Christ-like.
She homeschools one son and has another little boy- a sweet, strong one-year old. Last night he was strapped to her back in an infant carrier while she coached basketball; her babysitter was unavailable. There were moms there who offered to watch the baby, but this mom would rather have him right there with her, as heavy and awkward as that would be.
You should have seen his face. He was content, a binky in his mouth, watching over his mother's shoulder as she dribbled and passed the basketball to eager little girls. Fascinated by the motion of the ball, he nestled in his little carrier against his mother's body. His mother wore two hats. And a backpack.
I knew then that I wasn't the only one multi-tasking. As overwhelmed as life may seem, I could never be teaching basketball with a baby strapped to my back. (Besides the stress, I am not athletic. P.E. brought down my GPA.)
This morning after I rushed daughter off to school, I did a little grocery shopping. It was just above freezing temperatures here and my new coat was perfect. The bagger, an older gentleman, offered to take out my groceries and I declined.
"I can get it. It's too cold out there."
As I pushed my cart into the cold, the wind hit my face. I thought to myself of all of the people at that moment who did not have a new coat, any coat. I thought of all of the hats I wear and how sometimes it feels like too much.
But I am so blessed.
I got in my car and wept. I prayed and thanked God for all that He has given me, as undeserving as I am.
Then I asked Him, "Why me, Lord? Why me? Why am I the one with a warm coat? A home to live in? A bed to lie in? This car to drive my daughter to school? A trunk full of groceries? Why do I have two loving parents? A wonderful husband? Why me?"
And in His quiet, gentle Voice He said, "Because... for unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall be much required."
Much is required.
So I'll wear my coat and my many hats and I will give what I have, do what I can, for He has given me much- much more than I could ever ask for or even imagine. Even though none of it could ever out give what He has given, it will all be for Him, to Him, and through Him. For He has given me many hats.
And a warm coat to match.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Do you have a sash in petal pink?
It has been a busy week so far.
The week began with an ending to a sweet visit with family. Lots of giggles. Lots of laughs. Lots of little girl smiles and grandparent fun.
Yesterday I hiked right into a new journey for me. You will never in a million patches guess who is going to be wearing a vest. Yep. I am going to be a Girl Scout Troop leader, assisting a wonderful Christian lady who loves the Lord. We went through an orientation and training and our heads were swimming. My brain hurt. But today we are refreshed, refocused and excited about the troop.
Last night during her prayers, my daughter prayed for her two new troop leaders. It was so sweet. She is becoming a real prayer warrior. Either that or she recognizes how much her new troop leaders desperately need some Divine Intervention. If she starts praying for a hedge of protection, I'll know for sure.
;>)
The week began with an ending to a sweet visit with family. Lots of giggles. Lots of laughs. Lots of little girl smiles and grandparent fun.
Yesterday I hiked right into a new journey for me. You will never in a million patches guess who is going to be wearing a vest. Yep. I am going to be a Girl Scout Troop leader, assisting a wonderful Christian lady who loves the Lord. We went through an orientation and training and our heads were swimming. My brain hurt. But today we are refreshed, refocused and excited about the troop.
Last night during her prayers, my daughter prayed for her two new troop leaders. It was so sweet. She is becoming a real prayer warrior. Either that or she recognizes how much her new troop leaders desperately need some Divine Intervention. If she starts praying for a hedge of protection, I'll know for sure.
;>)
A button for Kelli
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Kelli- An Update
There is someone out there who has felt The Lord tugging on their heart. You don't know what it is you are supposed to do, but you know it is big. Maybe you are reading this. Or maybe you know someone who has shared God's calling in their life.
Whatever His Plan may be, take a moment to read this about what is going on with Kelli today. She needs a kidney. Plain and simple. It may not seem easy to us, but it is to God. Even if you are not the person who will give Kelli a kidney, you might be the one who shares the need.
Spread the word, folks. Pray for obedience in the heart of Kelli's donor. Pray for Kelli.
May God be glorified.
Whatever His Plan may be, take a moment to read this about what is going on with Kelli today. She needs a kidney. Plain and simple. It may not seem easy to us, but it is to God. Even if you are not the person who will give Kelli a kidney, you might be the one who shares the need.
Spread the word, folks. Pray for obedience in the heart of Kelli's donor. Pray for Kelli.
May God be glorified.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
A message from across the frozen, bloggy tundra
Y'all, it is cold. My neighbor from New York is cold. That is cold.
Ahem. Global Warming?
Which makes me think about the polar bears.
There is all of this hoopla about how Earth is getting warmer, blah blah blah. And how the polar ice caps are melting, blah blah blah. Well, has anyone thought that maybe the polar bears are just tired of being cold? I mean, there they are stuck on icebergs with nothing to eat but seals when all they really want is to live in sunny Florida and eat fried Gulf shrimp.
Just a theory.
Ahem. Global Warming?
Which makes me think about the polar bears.
There is all of this hoopla about how Earth is getting warmer, blah blah blah. And how the polar ice caps are melting, blah blah blah. Well, has anyone thought that maybe the polar bears are just tired of being cold? I mean, there they are stuck on icebergs with nothing to eat but seals when all they really want is to live in sunny Florida and eat fried Gulf shrimp.
Just a theory.
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Some toys live forever. Others should bounce away peacefully into lame toy heaven.
It is looking up to be an interesting weekend. My in-laws arrived last night and we have already had some good laughs.
The funny thing is that whenever we are in the middle of a laughing frenzy, my mother-in-law inevitably asks, "Is this going to be on your blog?"
To which I usually answer,"Maybe. You never know."
Last night we were laughing so hard at a Slinky. Yes, a Slinky. My mother-in-law brought one to our daughter because now we have stairs and "everyone who has stairs has to have one of these."
Hubs said that he could never make the Slinky go down more than two stairs. My mother-in-law remembered making slinky spring down more than a few stairs. The conversation later turned into a discussion as to whether the Slinky has always been silver or was it once copper.
I know. Riveting.
Then the five of us stood there at the bottom of the stairs watching Grammy make the Slinky, well slink, down the stairs.
Two of them.
It seems that Slinky only works if your stairs do no meet the building code. Or if they meet the Slinky compatible building code. Sadly, ours do not. Later, we will show daughter how to make stairs out of a stack of books. The entertainment continues at my house, folks.
Right now she is watching her new Schoolhouse Rock video with all of the best ones from my childhood and I am so tickled to death myself because Hello! Schoolhouse Rock!
With that last sentence, it appears that I should fast forward to Conjunction Junction to learn a little grammar myself. Right after I Unpack My Adjectives.
The funny thing is that whenever we are in the middle of a laughing frenzy, my mother-in-law inevitably asks, "Is this going to be on your blog?"
To which I usually answer,"Maybe. You never know."
Last night we were laughing so hard at a Slinky. Yes, a Slinky. My mother-in-law brought one to our daughter because now we have stairs and "everyone who has stairs has to have one of these."
Hubs said that he could never make the Slinky go down more than two stairs. My mother-in-law remembered making slinky spring down more than a few stairs. The conversation later turned into a discussion as to whether the Slinky has always been silver or was it once copper.
I know. Riveting.
Then the five of us stood there at the bottom of the stairs watching Grammy make the Slinky, well slink, down the stairs.
Two of them.
It seems that Slinky only works if your stairs do no meet the building code. Or if they meet the Slinky compatible building code. Sadly, ours do not. Later, we will show daughter how to make stairs out of a stack of books. The entertainment continues at my house, folks.
Right now she is watching her new Schoolhouse Rock video with all of the best ones from my childhood and I am so tickled to death myself because Hello! Schoolhouse Rock!
With that last sentence, it appears that I should fast forward to Conjunction Junction to learn a little grammar myself. Right after I Unpack My Adjectives.
Friday, January 18, 2008
Not as big as the water horse, but just as scary.
I am sitting here trying to figure out what food I ate yesterday that had at least 5000 grams of sodium hidden inside because I woke up this morning retaining water like the town's water tower. I'd better hide now or someone will paint "I love Bobby Ray" in Charleston Green all over my nice pajamas.
My rings are tight, my face feels puffy; I am just drop dead gorgeous- to a hippo.
Water retention is an ongoing issue for me but I have figured out how to remedy the situation. Drink, drink, drink, and avoid salt. (If any of you are concerned, I have been screened for any underlying health problems with a clean, but bloated bill of health.)
Adding more misery to the mix, I have sinus congestion. No, I am not holding my breath. My cheeks are just swollen.
Lovely.
By mid-morning, after some sinus medication and lots of water, I'll be back to my pre-inflated state. So do not be alarmed. Just don't stick a pin in me. I could pop.
But, if you saw me now, you may think I've gained weight. They say the blog adds 10 pounds, you know....er something like that.
My rings are tight, my face feels puffy; I am just drop dead gorgeous- to a hippo.
Water retention is an ongoing issue for me but I have figured out how to remedy the situation. Drink, drink, drink, and avoid salt. (If any of you are concerned, I have been screened for any underlying health problems with a clean, but bloated bill of health.)
Adding more misery to the mix, I have sinus congestion. No, I am not holding my breath. My cheeks are just swollen.
Lovely.
By mid-morning, after some sinus medication and lots of water, I'll be back to my pre-inflated state. So do not be alarmed. Just don't stick a pin in me. I could pop.
But, if you saw me now, you may think I've gained weight. They say the blog adds 10 pounds, you know....er something like that.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Nevermind Fox News. I've got Mama.
So yesterday I was talking to Mama and I realized something. She is a wealth of information.
We probably talked for less than 30 minutes, but in that short time (yes, that is short for us) I learned all of the following:
1. The sad state of her hometown's blueberry crop and the bad weather which caused its demise.
2. Who is sick.
3. Exactly what is wrong with them, what medications they are taking, and most importantly who their people are.
4. What she and Daddy ate yesterday and that the chili cheese fries at Krystal are sooooo gooood.
5. There was some mention of warming up some lima beans but I think that was from a different day.
6. The temperature at her house compared to the temperature at my house.
7. What bargains she found at Target and K-mart.
8. How proud she and Daddy are of their granddaughter. (That part I already knew.)
9. How she was really wanting some soup after I mentioned that I was making soup (related to the frigid temperatures at my house) but she had chili at Krystal and the chili cheese fries were sooooo gooood.
10. That we like to talk to each other about the everyday things, as unimportant as they may seem. They are still important to share with each other.
11. How much she loves me. (That part I already knew, too.)
Have you called your Mama today?
We probably talked for less than 30 minutes, but in that short time (yes, that is short for us) I learned all of the following:
1. The sad state of her hometown's blueberry crop and the bad weather which caused its demise.
2. Who is sick.
3. Exactly what is wrong with them, what medications they are taking, and most importantly who their people are.
4. What she and Daddy ate yesterday and that the chili cheese fries at Krystal are sooooo gooood.
5. There was some mention of warming up some lima beans but I think that was from a different day.
6. The temperature at her house compared to the temperature at my house.
7. What bargains she found at Target and K-mart.
8. How proud she and Daddy are of their granddaughter. (That part I already knew.)
9. How she was really wanting some soup after I mentioned that I was making soup (related to the frigid temperatures at my house) but she had chili at Krystal and the chili cheese fries were sooooo gooood.
10. That we like to talk to each other about the everyday things, as unimportant as they may seem. They are still important to share with each other.
11. How much she loves me. (That part I already knew, too.)
Have you called your Mama today?
Monday, January 14, 2008
Politics and Maybelline
It's election time, folks. I wasn't going to blog about it at all. I still have not decided for sure what, if anything, I would say this year on this little blog o' mine. But this morning I thought the very least I could do is make fun of it a little.
That's my civic duty.
No, I'm not laughing at the election process nor at the seriousness of taking part in it as a matter of your God-given right as an American.
Alert: (Picture this flashing in red if I had html skills)
If you are an American and are eligible to vote, register now so that you may exercise your right to do so, then look at the issues, the candidates, and all of the options and pray about making an informed decision. Ignore all of the bells and whistles and what your parents or friends or favorite celebrities say. Then, go vote with your heart and your conscience.
Ok. Enough of that.
On to the fun stuff. I have been interested in politics and government since I was a little girl. I find it fascinating. I have also loved commercials since I was a little girl. Mama said that when I was two years old, I would run in my little bare feet from the back of the house to the living room whenever I heard the Nestea plunge commercial on television.
So, combine politics and advertising and I am just giddy. Like a nerdy kid in an encyclopedia store. By the way, I always wanted my very own set of Encyclopedia Britannica. You would never know I could do The Slide, would you?
With all of my TV viewing and encyclopedia reading, I have observed a few things about political campaigns.
1. Whenever a candidate makes a speech, they always have the American flag behind them, REALLY HUGE ones like the ones they have at car dealerships. I know this is supposed to make them look patriotic. Somehow, it is just too in-your-face. Besides the fact that the flag matches their red power tie, it doesn't do much for me.
2. Candidates always have people behind them who look like they really care what they are saying. Sometimes the people are just standing around, but most of the time they look like they are sitting in bleachers. They always have tiny American flags.
Most of the time, the people behind the candidate would be considered their opposites. The candidate wants voters to look at the folks behind them and think,"Hey! These people are different from her. I wouldn't have thought they would support her. They must be friends!"
For example, if I were running for office, you may or may not see the following in bleachers sitting behind me, waving tiny American flags against a backdrop of a humongous flag that I borrowed from the Chevy dealer:
-A woman without any lipstick
-People wearing white (and it's after Labor Day)
- Methodists with take-out bags from the restaurant where they got a table before us after church because their service gets out before ours does and Baptist preachers are long-winded
- Martha Stewart
- Department Store CEO's
-Members of a rock band
-SaveTheNeighborhoodBeavers.Org
-The Postman
Of course, the postman would be late for the rally and Martha would be handing out handmade tiny American flags while the beavers chewed up the bleachers.
At some point during my speech I would go against all campaign advice, showing my real emotion, and turn around and hand that woman a tube of my red lipstick.
There are just some issues too serious for me to avoid.
That's my civic duty.
No, I'm not laughing at the election process nor at the seriousness of taking part in it as a matter of your God-given right as an American.
Alert: (Picture this flashing in red if I had html skills)
If you are an American and are eligible to vote, register now so that you may exercise your right to do so, then look at the issues, the candidates, and all of the options and pray about making an informed decision. Ignore all of the bells and whistles and what your parents or friends or favorite celebrities say. Then, go vote with your heart and your conscience.
Ok. Enough of that.
On to the fun stuff. I have been interested in politics and government since I was a little girl. I find it fascinating. I have also loved commercials since I was a little girl. Mama said that when I was two years old, I would run in my little bare feet from the back of the house to the living room whenever I heard the Nestea plunge commercial on television.
So, combine politics and advertising and I am just giddy. Like a nerdy kid in an encyclopedia store. By the way, I always wanted my very own set of Encyclopedia Britannica. You would never know I could do The Slide, would you?
With all of my TV viewing and encyclopedia reading, I have observed a few things about political campaigns.
1. Whenever a candidate makes a speech, they always have the American flag behind them, REALLY HUGE ones like the ones they have at car dealerships. I know this is supposed to make them look patriotic. Somehow, it is just too in-your-face. Besides the fact that the flag matches their red power tie, it doesn't do much for me.
2. Candidates always have people behind them who look like they really care what they are saying. Sometimes the people are just standing around, but most of the time they look like they are sitting in bleachers. They always have tiny American flags.
Most of the time, the people behind the candidate would be considered their opposites. The candidate wants voters to look at the folks behind them and think,"Hey! These people are different from her. I wouldn't have thought they would support her. They must be friends!"
For example, if I were running for office, you may or may not see the following in bleachers sitting behind me, waving tiny American flags against a backdrop of a humongous flag that I borrowed from the Chevy dealer:
-A woman without any lipstick
-People wearing white (and it's after Labor Day)
- Methodists with take-out bags from the restaurant where they got a table before us after church because their service gets out before ours does and Baptist preachers are long-winded
- Martha Stewart
- Department Store CEO's
-Members of a rock band
-SaveTheNeighborhoodBeavers.Org
-The Postman
Of course, the postman would be late for the rally and Martha would be handing out handmade tiny American flags while the beavers chewed up the bleachers.
At some point during my speech I would go against all campaign advice, showing my real emotion, and turn around and hand that woman a tube of my red lipstick.
There are just some issues too serious for me to avoid.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
By which I have become a sophisticate of parental guidance.
Yesterday was a meaningful day at our house.
Hubs and daughter planned to spend the day together creating precious memories that will live in their hearts for decades. I planned to get my hair done. Obviously, I have my priorities straight.
I came home from the beauty shop and from running errands (fun ones like shopping for drapes and home accessories) and my daughter and husband had experienced the following bonding for a lifetime moments:
Go for a bike ride
Plan their (yes, "their") Spring garden
I had been home for a little while when my daughter and I had our own bonding for a lifetime moment.
I taught her the electric slide. Don't ask me how it came up because I still haven't figured it out myself. Hubs had the song saved and played it for her a while back. He must have mentioned, ahem, that Mommy could actually do the electric slide and he must have mentioned,ahem, that he himself cannot.
At least that's his story.
So yesterday in our kitchen I taught my daughter the electric slide. It was a precious moment for us all. Hubs commented that he couldn't do it and that he considered himself lucky to have married me because I knew how.
Well, maybe he is lucky, but I don't think it has anything to do with my dancing skills.
Click here for the song and video. Go ahead. You know you want to!
It's Electric!
Hubs and daughter planned to spend the day together creating precious memories that will live in their hearts for decades. I planned to get my hair done. Obviously, I have my priorities straight.
I came home from the beauty shop and from running errands (fun ones like shopping for drapes and home accessories) and my daughter and husband had experienced the following bonding for a lifetime moments:
Go for a bike ride
Plan their (yes, "their") Spring garden
I had been home for a little while when my daughter and I had our own bonding for a lifetime moment.
I taught her the electric slide. Don't ask me how it came up because I still haven't figured it out myself. Hubs had the song saved and played it for her a while back. He must have mentioned, ahem, that Mommy could actually do the electric slide and he must have mentioned,ahem, that he himself cannot.
At least that's his story.
So yesterday in our kitchen I taught my daughter the electric slide. It was a precious moment for us all. Hubs commented that he couldn't do it and that he considered himself lucky to have married me because I knew how.
Well, maybe he is lucky, but I don't think it has anything to do with my dancing skills.
Click here for the song and video. Go ahead. You know you want to!
It's Electric!
Friday, January 11, 2008
Emergency on Aisle Nine
Sunday mornings are usually a little chaotic at our house. First of all, I am not a morning person. I'm not even a mid-afternoon person. I am a night person. I have no idea why the world has decided that everything like go to church, school, the grocery store or the bank must be done during the daytime.
Unless it has something to do with that little thing call sunlight.
Anyway.
I do not wake up happy. I go to sleep happy but something occurs during my REM cycle that turns me into Cranky Lady. So when we all have to get somewhere at the same time and be dressed up, MERCY ME. And I don't mean the awesome Christian music group.
Sundays I wake up to the coffee pot shuffle and start getting ready. In the meantime, my husband wakes our daughter and starts her breakfast. My breakfast is in mug which is probably laced with lead paint.
After I get ready, it is husband's turn in the bathroom . I usually iron his clothes and then help my very decisive and fashion-minded daughter pick out her clothes. All this time, I am watching the clock and thinking,"I really hate my clothes."
I finally make it out the door on time, weighted down with Sunday School material and the grim reality that the two people with me are much better dressed than I am.
The chaos always seems to end once we get in the car- until a few Sundays ago. We were riding down the highway and I suddenly heard a thump by the passenger's (Me) door. There in the rear view mirror was a picture of my hub cap not-so-gracefully tumbling down the road.
Classy.
Don't worry. We didn't go back and get it. If it wasn't picked up by a group of prisoners in orange jumpsuits, it is probably resting on the side of the road with its new found friend, The Shoe.
My husband went to Wal-mart later to buy me a set of hubcaps. (That sentence alone paints a portrait of our life that could hang in a Motel 6 lobby.)
We have the same kind of car so he didn't check the size wheel cover needed for my car. They should be the same. Right?
Oh no. The Toyota people like to change things from one year model to the next just to keep things interesting. So hubs went to another Wal-mart close to home to exchange them. He came back empty handed.
Our local Wal-mart did not have any hubcaps.
Aren't hubcaps a staple at Wal-mart? When Sam Walton opened the very first Wal-mart in Arkansas didn't he write some sort of Wal-mart Constitution that called for the pursuit of automobile accessories, over-sized electronics and better gun selection?
Something is seriously wrong, y'all. I am starting to think that the Target folks have infiltrated the ranks of their blue vest competition.
You can breathe easy. There is a happy ending to this otherwise uninspiring post and there is still hope for Wal-mart. Hubs purchased the correct size hubcaps at the original Wal-mart and the little guys are tucked into place on my tires. I told him it was a matter of urgency.
Riding around without a hubcap is one step away from duct tape on the windshield.
I'm just sayin.'
Unless it has something to do with that little thing call sunlight.
Anyway.
I do not wake up happy. I go to sleep happy but something occurs during my REM cycle that turns me into Cranky Lady. So when we all have to get somewhere at the same time and be dressed up, MERCY ME. And I don't mean the awesome Christian music group.
Sundays I wake up to the coffee pot shuffle and start getting ready. In the meantime, my husband wakes our daughter and starts her breakfast. My breakfast is in mug which is probably laced with lead paint.
After I get ready, it is husband's turn in the bathroom . I usually iron his clothes and then help my very decisive and fashion-minded daughter pick out her clothes. All this time, I am watching the clock and thinking,"I really hate my clothes."
I finally make it out the door on time, weighted down with Sunday School material and the grim reality that the two people with me are much better dressed than I am.
The chaos always seems to end once we get in the car- until a few Sundays ago. We were riding down the highway and I suddenly heard a thump by the passenger's (Me) door. There in the rear view mirror was a picture of my hub cap not-so-gracefully tumbling down the road.
Classy.
Don't worry. We didn't go back and get it. If it wasn't picked up by a group of prisoners in orange jumpsuits, it is probably resting on the side of the road with its new found friend, The Shoe.
My husband went to Wal-mart later to buy me a set of hubcaps. (That sentence alone paints a portrait of our life that could hang in a Motel 6 lobby.)
We have the same kind of car so he didn't check the size wheel cover needed for my car. They should be the same. Right?
Oh no. The Toyota people like to change things from one year model to the next just to keep things interesting. So hubs went to another Wal-mart close to home to exchange them. He came back empty handed.
Our local Wal-mart did not have any hubcaps.
Aren't hubcaps a staple at Wal-mart? When Sam Walton opened the very first Wal-mart in Arkansas didn't he write some sort of Wal-mart Constitution that called for the pursuit of automobile accessories, over-sized electronics and better gun selection?
Something is seriously wrong, y'all. I am starting to think that the Target folks have infiltrated the ranks of their blue vest competition.
You can breathe easy. There is a happy ending to this otherwise uninspiring post and there is still hope for Wal-mart. Hubs purchased the correct size hubcaps at the original Wal-mart and the little guys are tucked into place on my tires. I told him it was a matter of urgency.
Riding around without a hubcap is one step away from duct tape on the windshield.
I'm just sayin.'
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
Works for Me Wednesday: Laminate Floors
We have wood laminate floors in the dining room and the living room. I am trying to find a cleaner that will keep a shine on them without leaving a residue.
If you have wood laminate floors, what works for you?
Thanks in advance for your tips!
Visit Shannon for more WFMW: Backwards Edition.
If you have wood laminate floors, what works for you?
Thanks in advance for your tips!
Visit Shannon for more WFMW: Backwards Edition.
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Mediocre Tuesday
I woke up this morning and considered blogging the New Hampshire Primary all day. Right here! From this blog!
Oh, I kid. I'm not that desperate for material.
But I will keep an eye on the primary numbers and updates because it is important. I'll spare you from the spin. You can watch the News for yourselves.
There is big news here at Mayberry. My neighbor emailed that a small beaver was snared last night. Mr. Edwards will be out there this morning to relocate the little guy. I checked on the beaver a little while ago and he was safely snared on the bank of the pond where he had removed a huge area of sod from the neighbor's yard. These guys go out in blades of glory. (Get it? Blades? Grass?)
On a completely different note, I have to do some housework today, and grocery shop, and maybe even cook a nutritious meal for dinner. You can see that today is shaping up to be exciting.
But not nearly as exciting as the exit polls in New Hampshire. ;>)
Oh, I kid. I'm not that desperate for material.
But I will keep an eye on the primary numbers and updates because it is important. I'll spare you from the spin. You can watch the News for yourselves.
There is big news here at Mayberry. My neighbor emailed that a small beaver was snared last night. Mr. Edwards will be out there this morning to relocate the little guy. I checked on the beaver a little while ago and he was safely snared on the bank of the pond where he had removed a huge area of sod from the neighbor's yard. These guys go out in blades of glory. (Get it? Blades? Grass?)
On a completely different note, I have to do some housework today, and grocery shop, and maybe even cook a nutritious meal for dinner. You can see that today is shaping up to be exciting.
But not nearly as exciting as the exit polls in New Hampshire. ;>)
Sunday, January 06, 2008
I'll take away your chewing privileges, Mister!
*Updated to add- After Linda's comment, I just hope Joey the Beaver is saving all of those banana leaves for the seven years of famine. :>)
I know that most of you have been sitting at the edge of your seats waiting anxiously for a beaver update.
Today is your lucky day.
For those of you who have no idea what I am talking about, let me give you a brief history. Oh, who am I kidding? I'm Southern. Nothing about me is brief.
We have a small pond behind our house that we share with our neighbors. Most of the time, the pond is quite enjoyable and relaxing. It is stocked with fish and attracts beautiful wildlife like herons, cranes, migrating ducks and turtles.
It also attracts thousands of mosquitoes.
And beavers.
Sure, beavers look all cute and cuddly, but let me tell you, they are not. Beavers destroy things, ordinary and odd things like banana trees, fence posts, outdoor lighting, and any other object that would make their hidden condo complete. In fact, rumor has it that they are about to have their own show on HGTV. It's a spin-off of Trading Spaces called, "The Beavers Did That."
A while back we hired a trapper who would remove the beavers humanely and relocate them to another pond. When we caught our first one, the neighbor called us all over to check it out. Other than looking a little embarrassed about being caught, like some beaver rookie, the little critter looked fine. We looked like idiots.
My friend Nancy said she gets a little sad when she sees a member of an animal family trapped and removed. She always holds out hope that one day he will be reunited with his family. I told Nancy that maybe the trapped beaver was a trouble maker or a slacker, that maybe the conversation in the Beaver family went something like this-
"Hey, MOM! Joey never does his chores. All he does is wait for us to bring him some banana leaves or pear branches and then he lounges around in the underground condo and watches Ty Pennington build entertainment centers."
"JOEY! You are grounded! And clean up this den! Mud is everywhere!"
Maybe his Mom and Dad tried to teach him to be a responsible citizen in beaver society. Maybe his sister is that beaver age, and she got tired of little brother getting on her nerves, hanging out with her friends and doing that annoying noise with his tail.
Finally, Joey became the example and after a very firm, tough love push, he found himself in a snare on the shore awaiting his relocation while a bunch of people stared at him in wonder on a Saturday morning.
Right now, Joey is swimming around with other delinquent beavers, going through beaver boot camp on a new reality TV show.
Hosted by none other than, Ty Pennington.
I know that most of you have been sitting at the edge of your seats waiting anxiously for a beaver update.
Today is your lucky day.
For those of you who have no idea what I am talking about, let me give you a brief history. Oh, who am I kidding? I'm Southern. Nothing about me is brief.
We have a small pond behind our house that we share with our neighbors. Most of the time, the pond is quite enjoyable and relaxing. It is stocked with fish and attracts beautiful wildlife like herons, cranes, migrating ducks and turtles.
It also attracts thousands of mosquitoes.
And beavers.
Sure, beavers look all cute and cuddly, but let me tell you, they are not. Beavers destroy things, ordinary and odd things like banana trees, fence posts, outdoor lighting, and any other object that would make their hidden condo complete. In fact, rumor has it that they are about to have their own show on HGTV. It's a spin-off of Trading Spaces called, "The Beavers Did That."
A while back we hired a trapper who would remove the beavers humanely and relocate them to another pond. When we caught our first one, the neighbor called us all over to check it out. Other than looking a little embarrassed about being caught, like some beaver rookie, the little critter looked fine. We looked like idiots.
My friend Nancy said she gets a little sad when she sees a member of an animal family trapped and removed. She always holds out hope that one day he will be reunited with his family. I told Nancy that maybe the trapped beaver was a trouble maker or a slacker, that maybe the conversation in the Beaver family went something like this-
"Hey, MOM! Joey never does his chores. All he does is wait for us to bring him some banana leaves or pear branches and then he lounges around in the underground condo and watches Ty Pennington build entertainment centers."
"JOEY! You are grounded! And clean up this den! Mud is everywhere!"
Maybe his Mom and Dad tried to teach him to be a responsible citizen in beaver society. Maybe his sister is that beaver age, and she got tired of little brother getting on her nerves, hanging out with her friends and doing that annoying noise with his tail.
Finally, Joey became the example and after a very firm, tough love push, he found himself in a snare on the shore awaiting his relocation while a bunch of people stared at him in wonder on a Saturday morning.
Right now, Joey is swimming around with other delinquent beavers, going through beaver boot camp on a new reality TV show.
Hosted by none other than, Ty Pennington.
Saturday, January 05, 2008
Five things Meme
I saw this over at Susanne's and decided to play along.
1. Five things found in my room- I am in the living room with the laptop.
Hershey's kisses that need to go away. I am on some kind of Hershey's marathon.
My Bible
Curtain rods still in the wrapper (with no curtains yet to go with them)
The TV. I am watching the Republican debate. This may be why I need the chocolate.
A blanket. It is sooooo cold. I know cold is relative. You Canadians get an imaginary gold medal from me.
2. Five things I always wanted to do.
See Greece.
Learn to quilt.
Run for office. (Seeing a theme here?)
Research family history.
Send a group of kids to Disney World.
3. Five things found in my bag.
Lipstick.
Compact.
Wallet.
Gum.
Happy Meal toy.
4. Five things in my wallet.
Information that says I am an organ donor.
Store discount cards
Stamps
Emergency phone numbers
The usual things you would find in a mom's wallet like very little cash.
5. Five things I'm currently into.
The Presidential election. Praying for wisdom there.
Blogs. Ahem.
Purchasing curtains for the house. Decorating in general.
Reading my Bible through in a year, using a guide by our pastor.
The Hershey's kisses.
:>)
1. Five things found in my room- I am in the living room with the laptop.
Hershey's kisses that need to go away. I am on some kind of Hershey's marathon.
My Bible
Curtain rods still in the wrapper (with no curtains yet to go with them)
The TV. I am watching the Republican debate. This may be why I need the chocolate.
A blanket. It is sooooo cold. I know cold is relative. You Canadians get an imaginary gold medal from me.
2. Five things I always wanted to do.
See Greece.
Learn to quilt.
Run for office. (Seeing a theme here?)
Research family history.
Send a group of kids to Disney World.
3. Five things found in my bag.
Lipstick.
Compact.
Wallet.
Gum.
Happy Meal toy.
4. Five things in my wallet.
Information that says I am an organ donor.
Store discount cards
Stamps
Emergency phone numbers
The usual things you would find in a mom's wallet like very little cash.
5. Five things I'm currently into.
The Presidential election. Praying for wisdom there.
Blogs. Ahem.
Purchasing curtains for the house. Decorating in general.
Reading my Bible through in a year, using a guide by our pastor.
The Hershey's kisses.
:>)
Friday, January 04, 2008
Sometimes the arches are not as golden, but Barbie never disappoints.
Daughter and I were out today hoping that our Target stores had gone to the insane 90% off their Christmas clearance.
Our hopes were squashed like tiny gnats on a Southern family reunion potluck table. The Christmas and "holiday" items were still at 75%. Like an amateur, I caved and purchased a few items anyway. My best find was a really cute Barbie for the low, low price of $1.24.
We stopped at McDonald's drive-thru for some lunch. After ordering, the surprisingly polite cashier at the window said our Happy Meals were not ready. So we waited.
I turned to daughter and said, "Your nuggets will probably be very hot. We are either waiting for chicken nuggets or french fries."
And we waited.
The cashier came back and said,"I am so sorry. We are out of nuggets. Is there anything else you would like to substitute?"
Daughter said she would eat a hamburger and we waited some more.
I thought out loud,"Wonder how they could run out of nuggets. Maybe their supplier is late delivering."
"But, Mommy, McDonald's is known for their nuggets."
My child. She is astute in American culture and its deep-fried history.
Our hopes were squashed like tiny gnats on a Southern family reunion potluck table. The Christmas and "holiday" items were still at 75%. Like an amateur, I caved and purchased a few items anyway. My best find was a really cute Barbie for the low, low price of $1.24.
We stopped at McDonald's drive-thru for some lunch. After ordering, the surprisingly polite cashier at the window said our Happy Meals were not ready. So we waited.
I turned to daughter and said, "Your nuggets will probably be very hot. We are either waiting for chicken nuggets or french fries."
And we waited.
The cashier came back and said,"I am so sorry. We are out of nuggets. Is there anything else you would like to substitute?"
Daughter said she would eat a hamburger and we waited some more.
I thought out loud,"Wonder how they could run out of nuggets. Maybe their supplier is late delivering."
"But, Mommy, McDonald's is known for their nuggets."
My child. She is astute in American culture and its deep-fried history.
Thursday, January 03, 2008
Thirteen things I did today that would not impress any of you. Not even my Mama.
1. Woke up and planned a day of cleaning house, organizing and having my daughter's friend over to play.
2. Listened to my little girl giggle with her friend all day.
And squeal. And giggle. And squeal.
Because IT IS SO EXCITING TO SPEND THE WHOLE DAY TOGETHER EVEN THOUGH THEY SEE EACH OTHER AT LEAST THREE TIMES A WEEK AT CHURCH. But, Glory! The revival that happens in their hearts when they are reunited on days other than Sunday and Wednesday.
It's a good thing we are Baptist and (somewhat) reserved or I couldn't stand the excitement!
3. Cleaned out the garage.
4. Froze to death. What idiot picks the coldest day yet of the season to clean out the garage? (The idiot whose kid is being entertained and occupied with a charismatic game of Candy Land.)
5. Found and washed curtains that I forgot I had.
6. Looked for snails at the pond out back and FROZE TO DEATH!
Anyone for escargot Popsicles?
7. Helped the giggly girls dig in the dirt and look for treasure. We found it. It was called the buried portion of our dock. (But not as exciting as the lost curtains.)
8.. Made hot chocolate with marshmallows and peppermint sticks.
YUM.
9. Caught up on some much needed time with giggly girl's mom (one of my best friends) while giggly girl and daughter played and played.
10. Heard friend repeat over and over, "Get your stuff together. It's time to go."
11. Kept talking to friend. Giggly girls kept playing. And giggling.
12. Wait. Which ones are the giggly girls?? Us or them?
13. Thanked God for Christian friends and their sweet children.
2. Listened to my little girl giggle with her friend all day.
And squeal. And giggle. And squeal.
Because IT IS SO EXCITING TO SPEND THE WHOLE DAY TOGETHER EVEN THOUGH THEY SEE EACH OTHER AT LEAST THREE TIMES A WEEK AT CHURCH. But, Glory! The revival that happens in their hearts when they are reunited on days other than Sunday and Wednesday.
It's a good thing we are Baptist and (somewhat) reserved or I couldn't stand the excitement!
3. Cleaned out the garage.
4. Froze to death. What idiot picks the coldest day yet of the season to clean out the garage? (The idiot whose kid is being entertained and occupied with a charismatic game of Candy Land.)
5. Found and washed curtains that I forgot I had.
6. Looked for snails at the pond out back and FROZE TO DEATH!
Anyone for escargot Popsicles?
7. Helped the giggly girls dig in the dirt and look for treasure. We found it. It was called the buried portion of our dock. (But not as exciting as the lost curtains.)
8.. Made hot chocolate with marshmallows and peppermint sticks.
YUM.
9. Caught up on some much needed time with giggly girl's mom (one of my best friends) while giggly girl and daughter played and played.
10. Heard friend repeat over and over, "Get your stuff together. It's time to go."
11. Kept talking to friend. Giggly girls kept playing. And giggling.
12. Wait. Which ones are the giggly girls?? Us or them?
13. Thanked God for Christian friends and their sweet children.
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
Works for Me: Homemade Scented Play Dough
This is a play dough recipe I made for my Sunday School class. They loved it. Even my daughter likes it.
Scented Play Dough- Not Edible
1 cup four
1 cup water
1/2 cup salt
1 to 2 Tablespoons oil
2 teaspoons cream of tartar
a few drops of food coloring
a few flavoring drops (for scent) such as lemon or peppermint extract. Do not use extract with color, such as vanilla.
You may also use one small pack of Kool Aid instead. Cherry and Grape work well.
Try to match the play dough coloring you choose with the scent you add.
Directions-
Place all ingredients in a saucepan on low heat. Stir the mixture until it forms a moist, gloppy ball. Do not let it burn. Remove from pan. (You can gently scrape it from the pan with a spatula.)
Cool, then knead until it forms a ball and leaves your hands clean. Store in an airtight container.
The peppermint smelled wonderful!! Have fun.
Scented Play Dough- Not Edible
1 cup four
1 cup water
1/2 cup salt
1 to 2 Tablespoons oil
2 teaspoons cream of tartar
a few drops of food coloring
a few flavoring drops (for scent) such as lemon or peppermint extract. Do not use extract with color, such as vanilla.
You may also use one small pack of Kool Aid instead. Cherry and Grape work well.
Try to match the play dough coloring you choose with the scent you add.
Directions-
Place all ingredients in a saucepan on low heat. Stir the mixture until it forms a moist, gloppy ball. Do not let it burn. Remove from pan. (You can gently scrape it from the pan with a spatula.)
Cool, then knead until it forms a ball and leaves your hands clean. Store in an airtight container.
The peppermint smelled wonderful!! Have fun.
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
The next thing you know, I'll quit using hairspray.
So today is New Year's Day. There are a few Southern and family traditions that go along with this day. This year, I broke a few and bent a few others.
I don't believe in luck. Never have. I just like traditions. Keeping them and passing them on is, to me, part of passing on a family's history. It kind of keeps those who have passed on still with us.
I thank my Granny for many traditions, but especially for those on New Year's Day. That lady was brilliant. The two things she never did on New Year's Day were sweep and wash clothes. One was supposed to cause a loved one to die and the other was to cause you to lose your money. I could never keep them straight, but I thought she was a genius for getting out of housework for at least one day a year.
Of course, the other traditions involve food. We are supposed to have black-eyed peas and greens for good luck. The peas represent coins and the greens represent paper money you will recieve in the year to come. I always make blackeyes and I usually put ham hocks in them for flavor. We also usually have pork roast. I don't eat greens except for cabbage, so we always have cabbage.
Except for today.
We had the black-eyed peas, but no cabbage. We had cabbage's anemic cousin, cauliflower. I am not sure what kind of luck that is supposed to bring us. I didn't buy ham hocks or a pork roast, so we ate the pork Lil Smokies left over from last night's family New Year's junk food dinner.
Plus, I didn't techinically sweep; I vacuumed. We took down the tree and I couldn't go a whole day without cleaning up the stray needles. And (gasp!) I am washing a load of clothes at this very moment. You have no idea what this means. There are Southern women tossing and turning in their graves.
What on Earth have I done?!
It's a good thing I ate two huge servings of peas.
Have a Happy New Year, Y'all!
I don't believe in luck. Never have. I just like traditions. Keeping them and passing them on is, to me, part of passing on a family's history. It kind of keeps those who have passed on still with us.
I thank my Granny for many traditions, but especially for those on New Year's Day. That lady was brilliant. The two things she never did on New Year's Day were sweep and wash clothes. One was supposed to cause a loved one to die and the other was to cause you to lose your money. I could never keep them straight, but I thought she was a genius for getting out of housework for at least one day a year.
Of course, the other traditions involve food. We are supposed to have black-eyed peas and greens for good luck. The peas represent coins and the greens represent paper money you will recieve in the year to come. I always make blackeyes and I usually put ham hocks in them for flavor. We also usually have pork roast. I don't eat greens except for cabbage, so we always have cabbage.
Except for today.
We had the black-eyed peas, but no cabbage. We had cabbage's anemic cousin, cauliflower. I am not sure what kind of luck that is supposed to bring us. I didn't buy ham hocks or a pork roast, so we ate the pork Lil Smokies left over from last night's family New Year's junk food dinner.
Plus, I didn't techinically sweep; I vacuumed. We took down the tree and I couldn't go a whole day without cleaning up the stray needles. And (gasp!) I am washing a load of clothes at this very moment. You have no idea what this means. There are Southern women tossing and turning in their graves.
What on Earth have I done?!
It's a good thing I ate two huge servings of peas.
Have a Happy New Year, Y'all!
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