Kibbles & Knits

OK, here's the situation, my parents went away on a week's vacation

2011-03-02T13:54:00.002-06:00

And they left the keys to their brand new Porsche. Would they mind? Hmm...well, of course not!

That title just typed itself as I went to compose this blog. I don't know where it came from or why. Sometimes you just gotta roll with things.

So it's me again and I have some news.

Kids, hell hath frozen over. I am getting married.

My plan is to use Kibbles & Knits as sort of a planning blog between now and the wedding, so the full story of my engagement is forthcoming, but I just wanted to report the news. It happened on Christmas Eve. The Cowboy and I are up to our armpits in wedding plans, and I can only speak for myself when I say that I'm loving every minute of it. We have an understanding - I only burden him with huge decisions, and he agrees to most everything I propose. It's going to be a great marriage.

Anyway, over the next 7 months, (wedding date is September 24th), I hope to use this blog as my planning guide and sounding board. I've already gotten a lot planned, and I will be creating posts and tabs to showcase our wedding plans. So stay tuned. Breaking news: I'm the first person ever to get married.

And take it from me, parents just don't understand.

Recipe: Roasted Cauliflower

2010-12-16T09:36:00.000-06:00

First, a note. I had no idea until just right now that cauliflower was spelled cauliflower. No one says cow-lih-flower. They say cow-ih-flower. So I naturally assumed it was spelled cauiflower. Incorrect. I don't know how to spell all the words. Oh well.

Anyway, here's a recipe that I've had for a few years and it's delicious. I often forget about it, because cauliflower isn't a vegetable that I make or eat very often, which is unfortunate because this is delicious. Take a look at this deliciousness.

Oh yum. It's very simple to make. Here's the how-to.

What you need:

1 head of cauliflower

2-3 tbsp of extra virgin olive oil (I never measure, I just drizzle until it looks about right and all the cauliflower is coated)

2-3 cloves of garlic minced (if you like it really garlicky, go with 3)

Thyme. Ok, here's the deal, I don't really measure when I cook, unless I'm following a specific recipe. But this one I've made so much that I kind of just measure by how it looks. On this occasion I used fresh thyme because I happened to have some, but usually I use dried. Dried you shouldn't need more than a 1/2 teaspoon - it's pretty strong stuff. For the fresh, I tore the leaves off about 10 of the twigs and chopped them up. I'm sorry, I know this is very un-specific and not at all helpful, but you can let your taste buds guide you.

Red pepper flakes. Same deal as the thyme. No idea how much. Just give it a shimmy shake and check it out. I'd go lighter on this. They can be spicy.

What you do:
Arrange cauliflower on a baking sheet, drizzle with oil, sprinkle garlic, red pepper and thyme. Bake at 375 for 30-45 minutes until it starts to get brown and smell like heaven. I toss once about halfway through cooking, just so all sides get the brown deliciousness.

Enjoy!

Tales from the Toilet

2010-12-09T13:46:00.001-06:00

Sometimes I come up with (what I think are) really funny or witty things to say on my blog. Like the other night, I was on the toilet (just keeping it real) and I thought of a funny way to begin this blog, and I thought to myself, "you better go and write this down so you don't forget about it tomorrow when you go to blog," and then of course I got caught up (not literally, thankfully) in whatever else I happened to be doing at that time (ahem), and I forgot. So here I am blogging and I have no idea what I was going to say that was going to be clever, and instead you're stuck reading about my Tuesday Toilet Adventures. I apologize.

I know I've been away for awhile. Truth is, I got an iPhone, and I said sayonara to the ol' computer. And also my friends. And I've kind of been slacking off at work too. The iPhone is AMAZING. And, ok, so I also have 2 jobs, which is totally kicking my ass. And, ok, so I am also literally getting my ass kicked at my first job, by children in crisis. It's been a very rough, busy, crazy couple of months. But I've missed you. Really, those aren't empty words. I've missed you. So here I am.

I wish I had something more exciting to write about. I've been busy knitting like crazy. I have orders for a bunch of random things for Christmas gifts, so when I'm not working, getting my butt kicked, thinking up blog ideas on the toilet, eating, sleeping, or playing with my phone, I'm knitting. Remember when I was rambling on about black people, and I said I was going to knit a beard as a joke for my friend's husband? Well......

Stupid sideways picture that I can't fix..... But check it out! I knit that! Me! With my hands! And some yarn! Weeeeeeeeee! I'm pretty damn proud of myself, so toot toot toot. Here's a picture of me modeling it.

I made it for a friend of a friend who found a picture on the innerwebs and asked if I could do it. After researching for a pattern, I told her that I would. Fast forward 3 months (it took me a REALLY long time....) and there you have it. The pattern wasn't even that difficult, it just took some figuring out, and this is definitely the most complicated thing I've ever knit. But it was fun! And I shed a tear when I had to mail it off to it's owner. I will definitely be making one of these for me in the future! I wore it to school and freaked out all the kids. Good times, good times.

I've also been busy working on a few baby knits. This is Bella.

Her chubby. Her like the hat I made.

And my friend Melissa asked if I could knit up some mini-scarves to adorn a bottle of wine as a gift. Does the Pope wear a funny hat?

Mmmm, wine. And also? How cute is that? Instead of a little gift bag, just fancify your wine with a scarf! Only $4! On sale now....

So you can see, I've been busy. But I've got a few Christmas posts up my sleeve. And soon I'll be off for 2 glorious weeks. So when I'm not busy sleeping, eating, drinking, sitting on the toilet or playing with my iPhone, I promise to write more.

Sometimes I wish I were a gay man...

2010-10-05T07:12:00.000-05:00

Such a shame. Why do the gay men get everything I want AND NPH?

Ok, so I can't really think of anything else that The Gays have that I don't have, or that I want. But Neil...., oh Neil.

A beautiful, beautiful man. I love you Doogie. I love you forever.

3 Black Actors

2010-10-01T10:56:00.000-05:00

I'd like to start this post with a quote from the movie Jerry Maguire.

"I love black people. I am MISTER black people."

Having said that, I will now proceed with the following true tale of hilarity.

My friends. Marcie and Lisa. Marce and The J. Jerry and Elaine. Fred and Daphne. Farah Fawcett and Kate Jackson.

There they are. The fools. I love them.

We all used to work together many moons ago (Lisa and Marcie still do) before I moved to Texas, and every once in awhile we would do some much needed Team Building. Of course by Team Building I mean drinking. And laughing. Lisa, Marcie and I were always much more than just co-workers. We were friends, and I still consider them among my best friends.

So, once upon a time on one such Team Building occasion, the 3 of us are sitting around, drinking a few brews and talking. We were discussing how Mr. J. (Lisa's husband) would see someone, anyone, with a beard and think that that person was Kris Kristofferson.

Seriously. People on TV, dead celebrities, former presidents, fictional characters. Kenny Rogers, Abraham Lincoln, Jerry Garcia, Santa Claus. All Kris Kristofferson. Random people. He'd be walking down the street in suburban Ann Arbor, Michigan and see a guy with a beard, and point him out and say, "Hey look, it's Kris Kristofferson". And he truly believed it, every time. Mr. J is not quite right.

So we are discussing this, and laughing heartily because, let's face it, that shit is funny. And then I bring up how I'm sympathetic to Mr. J's plight, because I too have a confusion issue regarding celebrities. I tell the girls how I often confuse James Earl Jones

with Laurence Fishburne.

To me, they are one and the same. Lisa and Marcie crack up at this. James Earl Jones and Laurence Fishburne?!! How crazy! Jones, the voice of Darth Vader; and Fishburne, the guy from the Matrix. How could I possibly get them confused? Preposterous!

As the laughter dies, Marcie chimes in with, "I don't understand how you can get them confused! Laurence Fishburne is much younger! And he was also the guy in Pulp Fiction!"

More laughter erupts. Lisa and I inform Marcie that Laurence Fishburne was NOT, in fact, in Pulp Fiction, but rather, that was Samuel L. Jackson.

Marcie doesn't believe it! "Are you sure?" she asks. Lisa and I, still chuckling, assure her that it is so.

Lisa, shaking her head, now can't believe that 2 of her friends and her husband have made such errors of identification. "When clearly," she says, "Everyone knows that Samuel L. Jackson was also the voice of Donkey from Shrek."

At this point, if you had been sitting at the table next to us, you would have thought we were delivering a litter of puppies. We were shrieking and screaming with laughter.

No, Marcie and I say between gasps, that was Eddie Murphy.

It took 10 minutes for us to stop laughing/crying/screaming and calm down. We all had tears rolling down our face at the absurdity of the conversation that had just taken place. Essentially you had 3 white girls, sitting around talking about a bunch of black actors and no one knew who was who. And it went from me, to Marcie, to Lisa. Each one of us taking a turn mis-identifying a black actor. We stopped there, although I have a feeling we could have continued the circle, since I sometimes confuse Eddie Murphy with Chris Rock.

To each of these actors, I'd like to say that I apologize for our ignorance. You have each contributed something valuable and worthwhile to the film and television industry. Except I didn't really like The Matrix, but I'm sure Fishburne has done other things that I've seen. I can't think of what, except maybe Star Wars. I'm just kidding. I no longer get them confused. Most of the time.

Speaking of beards, I think I found my next knitting project.

I'm going to wear it on my next trip up to Michigan and mess with Mr. J.

Hey look! It's Kris Kristofferson!

Recipe: Shrimp Salad

2010-09-28T16:41:00.002-05:00

Recipe time! I've been thinking a lot about various recipes I want to post here, and I have several in the queue. I'm excited to share them. Today's recipe is more of a summer time salad, but I've only missed the official summer cut-off by 4 days, and here in Texas it still feels like summer, so I'd say we're all good. This salad is fast, easy and super yummy. It is my friend Christy's recipe, so thanks Christy for allowing me to share it! And sorry I forgot to ask first. I figure it's always easier to ask for forgiveness than it is permission.

So, for shrimp salad you will need the following ingredients:

1 pound shrimp*
1/2 bag pasta of your choosing (I like the small shells)
1 cucumber
1 green pepper
4-5 green onions
1/4 to 1/2 bag frozen peas (depending on the size of the bag and how much you like peas, I happen to like them a lot)
1/2 cup mayo
1/2 cup Ranch dressing

*The shrimp. Here's the deal - depending on the size of the shrimp you get, you have several options. This time around I bought the tee-tiny super adorable witty bitty baby swimps. Usually I just get regular sized shrimp and cut them in half. But you can leave whole shrimps in there if that's how you roll. I prefer for everything to be bite size. I am all about aesthetics. Also, the little shrimp I bought this time was pre-cooked and frozen, so I didn't have to cook them. I highly recommend going with a pre-cooked shrimp, but if you got something else on sale (and I get it, shrimp is expensive), then you'll have to boil the shrimp first and allow it to cool. I said this recipe was easy, right? Maybe I lied.

To make the salad, boil water and cook noodles according to directions. Cut up all your veggies into bite size pieces, pretty much the same size. Here's a picture of my veggies all cut up and waiting.

How green and pretty! You can see why this would make a good spring/summer salad. Oh, and the peas? I don't even cook them, I just toss them in frozen from the bag. They will thaw out in no time.

Once the noodles are done, drain them and allow them to cool. They don't have to be cold, just cool to the touch. Once you add them in to all the cool crisp veggies, they'll cool down even more.

I don't know why I've included a picture of the noodles cooling in the strainer. It's a completely useless picture.

Toss the noodles, shrimp and veggies together in a large bowl. In a smaller bowl or large measuring glass, mix the Ranch and mayo together. I use light Ranch and light mayo. I figure no one needs that much dressing in their lives. Some people don't believe in light Ranch or light mayo, and think it's a sin against food. Do what you like. Either way, whisk them together until there are no more lumps. Think of it like gravy. No one wants the lumps.

And now just toss the dressing in with the salad. You'll want to kind of eyeball it and maybe only add a little dressing at a time. You can always add more, but you can't take it away. Don't make it too soupy - this is supposed to be light! Just mix until it's well combined, chill for an hour and serve!

It makes great leftovers, too. The longer it sits the better it gets. Yum!! This is a great light lunch. Christy served it at our last book club and it was fantastic! If you're hosting a book club or ladies lunch or something, this is a great recipe. Thanks again, Christy!

A Special Sunday Story

2010-09-26T15:33:00.001-05:00

Yesterday morning I was in the mood for a kolache. If you're not Czech, or you don't live in this area, you may have no idea what a kolache is. I didn't until I moved here. Kolaches are a Czech pastry. They can have fruit, cheese, or meat filling. Basically, it's a fancy Czech term for either a danish, donut, or pig in a blanket. That's the best way I can describe them to someone who's never had one. I like the kind with the little mini sausages and cheese in them. They are delicious. This picture does not do them justice.

So. It's Saturday morning and I want some. There's a little bakery down the street that sells them, so I get in the car and go. This is kind of a boring story so far, isn't it? I'm sorry. It's about to get better. I hope.

I'm in my neighborhood. I'm driving the speed limit. I'm wearing my seat belt. My registration and inspection are both current. I'm not texting. And I'm sober as a judge. I come to a 4 way stop, and I'm turning right. There is a cop in the on the road I'm about to turn on, also at the stop sign. I signal my turn and wait for him to go. He was there first. He starts to go, and as I make my turn, I see him do a quick U-turn and turn his lights on.

Oh for crying out loud.

I rack my brains and try to figure out what in Moses' name I could possibly be getting pulled over for. As I said, I was obeying all the rules of the road. And I know I'd come to a complete stop at the stop sign because he had the right of way. I seriously have no idea at this point what the hell this cop could want with me. Because of this, I'm not really nervous. Now, I've been pulled over before when I know I've been speeding, or ran a red light, or what have you, and I've been shaking, nervous, on the verge of tears. But this time, I couldn't see that I had done anything wrong, and furthermore, the cops in my little community are (pardon my French) DICKS, so I just kind of sat back and waited to see what ol' John Q had to say.

"Good morning ma'am," (strike one, don't call me ma'am, buddy) "I'm Office Asshole with the Mayberry Police Department. You're being pulled over this morning because you failed to signal 100 feet before making your turn. Is there a reason for this ma'am?" (again with the ma'am)

"Uhhh, um, no." (seriously, that's probably more eloquent than I actually was. I was dumbfounded.) I stare blankly at him.

"Are you in some kind of hurry this morning? What's the rush?"

Blank stare continues. "No rush." Feeble shrug. "Didn't even realize......" my sentence trails off. I don't even know what to say.

"License and insurance please?"

I hand them over. He walks back to his car. And I sit there. And think. And think. Let me paint the picture for you.

I'm in a residential neighborhood. I'm not on a busy street. In fact, there was no one behind me when I approached this stop sign. The cop was on the other street, also at the stop sign. It was 9:00 on a Saturday morning. There were no children playing in the street (as there sometimes are in my neighborhood). I was not speeding. I came to a complete stop. I USED MY SIGNAL. I just didn't turn it on 100 feet prior to making my turn. So for this, the cop MAKES A U-TURN, and pulls me the fuck over. Pardon my French again. But are you fucking kidding me??

Wow, what a menace I am. What a dangerous driver. Thank goodness he was there to prevent me from hurting anyone. Don't bother pulling over people who are, oh, I don't know, actually speeding (which I still think is ridiculous in most situations), or killing people, or selling crack cocaine, or molesting children. No, I'm the real threat to society.

At least he didn't ask to search my car and find that dismembered body and kilo of pure Mexican heroin in my trunk. Whew. Close call.

So he comes back and says,

"Ma'am, I'm only going to write you a warning today. I need you to sign here, which indicates that I have given you a warning for failing to signal 100 feet before your turn."

I sign.

"Thank you. Here's your license and your copy of the warning. You drive safe today."

"..........thanks........."

And I pull away. And I make sure to put my signal on RIGHT THEN AND THERE for the turn that was 2 blocks up. Just in case.

They didn't sell beer or hard liquor at the bakery, which was probably a good thing. And the more I've thought about this little run-in with the law since it happened, the more outraged I've become. I can't see ANY circumstance that would be acceptable for him to pull someone over for THAT. I just can't. Can you? Seriously, please tell me. Because I sure as hell know it wasn't at 9 on a Saturday morning in my own damn neighborhood with no one around me. If he'd have given me a ticket, I would be fighting it. As it is, I will be writing a letter to the good ol' Mayberry Police Department. And the first thing I will tell them is:

You have a pleasant day.

The Great Jean Conundrum

2010-09-24T10:15:00.001-05:00

As most of you already know, I've been trying to lose weight since last January. I've been pretty successful - at my lowest I was down 23 pounds - and I've been able to keep most of the weight off. Hey, no one is perfect. Cut me some slack. I like to hit the sauce, and those calories add up.

But the really good news is that I'm down 2 pants sizes. Well, almost. Here's the situation. For the sake of this story, let's just pretend that I used to be a size 6. And I did. In high school. 14 years ago. But let's pretend that I was a size 6 in January when I started losing weight. Go ahead and take a minute and laugh at the absurdity of this suggestion. I know, it's ridiculous. Har har. Size 6. Whatever. Skinny bitches.

Anyway, for the sake of argument, and also for the sake of I'm not going to tell you my real pants size, I was a size 6 in January. All fat and happy in my size 6 pants. And then I started losing weight, and pretty soon, I was wearing size 4. And lots of my pants were size 4s anyway, and I had some pants that I hadn't worn in a few months, size 4, and I threw those on too. And of course, I bought a few new pairs of pants/shorts as well. So the weight loss continues..... and now my size 4s are too loose. They start falling off me as I'm chasing a kid across the playground, or pushing a friend's car through the intersection as we're leaving the bar one night. Hypothetically, of course.

And I can't keep my size 4s up. And belts don't help. I'm not a belt person anyway. So, I go to the store and I try on a size 2 and - lo! Behold! They fit. Almost. I mean, I can get them over my gigantic thighs, hips and ass. And I can button them. And I can breathe, for the most part. So I consider this a victory. And they make my ass look spectacular, and they're on sale for $20, so I buy 2 pairs. But here's the deal - they're just ever so slightly tight. I can wear them, but by the end of the day, I'm jonesing big time for my sweats, and I'm afraid that if I bend over too quickly, or immediately after lunch, they might split open. Ok, not really. I mean it's not like they're painted on. But they're a bit snug. So today I'm wearing my size 4s, and they're too big.

What the hell. The 4s are too big and the 2s are too small. They both fit, but neither is comfortable. Apparently, I need a size 3. Do they make size 3? No, they don't. I know that this should motivate me to lose another 8 pounds or so, so that the 2s fit me better, but dammit I'm pissed. Why is it so hard to find jeans that fit? Is it too much to ask? Does anyone else have this problem?

The end.

The Adventures of Keltherine

2010-09-23T20:12:00.001-05:00

In case you've been wondering (and I know you have, don't lie) what I've been up to in the past 5 months, it can pretty much be summed up in one word: Keltherine.

Back in March or April, my friend Kellie and I decided that we were slowly, but quite efficiently, morphing into one Super Awesome Being. We spent enough time together, and essentially had the same tastes, likes and dislikes, beliefs, morals (or lack thereof), and thirst for alcohol. We discovered that we both hate the word moist. We both love to eat cheese. We both think it's hilarious to say the word "ass" while we burp. We both want to make the sexy time with Alexander Skarsgard.

We started dressing alike when we went out, unintentionally. We decided to call our new dual identity Keltherine. I'd like to show you what she's been up to this past summer.

In May, we threw on some Michael Jackson sparkly gloves and went to an 80's concert in the park. (you can see we're dressed alike...down to the sunglasses and flip flops, which are not visible)

Later in May, we wowed locals with our karaoke version of Sir Mix-a-lot's classic, "Baby Got Back" (again, dressed alike)

In June we...

Celebrated a friend's 40th birthday (who are those girls in the green dresses?)

And played Chicken Shit Bingo, which is exactly what it sounds like. And also, awesome.

In July, we traveled to exotic Ohio and Michigan on our Keltherine 2010 Summer Tour, where we visited with the 2 friends who brought us together in the first place, Heather and Dani. (and again....)

We celebrated our Nation's independence.....

By enjoying some lukewarm Colt 45. Thank you, Billy Dee Williams.

In August we demonstrated how tan I'd become over the summer, and how pasty white Kellie remained. Oh, and we wine tasted.

We hung out with Reenie (hi!) at Luckenbach....

And sweet talked some big cocks.

We said goodbye to summer and hello to Dallas Night Club with Kourtney.

And in September, we watched football and cut off at Pluckers for being "too loud". Or too drunk. Potato. Po-tah-to.

Keltherine has been busy.

Seriously. Kellie and I have both been through a lot in the past 4 months, and I know I speak for both of us when I say that we thank God every day that we found each other. She has been my rock, my mother, my sister, my care giver, my biggest fan and my best friend over the past few months. I wouldn't have gotten through everything that I have gone through without her, and I feel confident saying that she wouldn't have gotten through her shit without me either. I'm not prone to cheese it up, but I mean it kids, she's alright.

To Kellie: Thank you. Steve loves Jews. Always.

32 Random Facts about Steve

2010-09-21T09:57:00.007-05:00

It's time for some "getting to know you" here on Kibbles and Knits. Since I've been gone for so long, and I was challenged by another bloggy friend of mine to do a "100 Things About Me" section of my blog. I couldn't come up with 100. I'm not that exciting. It was a hard enough coming up with 32. Why 32? Because that's how old I am. I figure I'm allowed 1 "interesting" (and I use that term loosely, believe me) thing about myself for every year I've been alive. Any more than that and a) I'm narcissistic (although I have a blog, so one could make that assumption anyway) and b) you'd stop reading after awhile. Hell, I don't blame you. Who wants to read a list of 100 things about anyone? No one is that interesting.

Oh, and Steve (from the title) = me. That's another story for another day. So here we go.

1. I have never seen one episode of The Simpsons

2. Whenever I go to buy gas, or am leaving a tip at a restaurant, the total HAS to be a rounded dollar. If I am pumping as and it stops at $12.01, I will go up to $13.00 if possible. If not, $12.50. Same with leaving a tip. I don't think I am the only one who does this.

3. I bruise like a peach, and am a total klutz. My legs and arms are always covered in bruises. Sometimes I like to tell people "he had to tell me twice". It's not always funny. In fact, domestic violence is never funny. But sometimes my jokes are.

4. I don't like people touching my feet. At all. Ever. When I go get pedicures, I have to have several drinks prior. And I still giggle and laugh like an idiot.

5. I do not care for Pierce Brosnan. "Hate" is a strong word. But you get what I'm saying.

6. I have read all of the Harry Potter books at least 3 times. I'm sure I will read them all again someday.

7. I live near arguably the best city in this country for live music (Austin, TX) and I rarely go downtown. It's a shame.

8. I've never seen the movie Mary Poppins. I've discussed this before on my blog, and I still haven't bothered to watch it. I guess I don't really think I'm missing anything.

9. If you clicked on the Mary Poppins link and read that post, you would have seen another confession of mine at the bottom of the page: I don't like pizza. This shocks people to no end. I kept it a big secret for many years, because people would literally be dumbfounded when I told them. Still are. I guess I need to do an entire blog dedicated to my distaste for pizza. There is a story to be told there. And a little bit of redemption for me.

10. Two things will always make me laugh, no matter how old I get. Farts and falling. I'm sorry. It's always going to be funny when someone falls down (unless, of course, they're seriously hurt, but for that one split second before I find out that they cracked their skull, I'm going to laugh - sorry, just keepin' it real), and it's always going to be funny when someone farts.

11. I love cheesy 70s and 80s pop/rock music like REO Speedwagon, Chicago, Air Supply, Queen, Styx, Journey.

12. I believe in aliens. Not in a creepy sense (if that's possible), but in the sense that I think it's pretty arrogant of us humans/earthlings to believe that we are the ONLY species out there. It's a pretty darn big galaxy, and there's a lot more out there that I'm sure we don't know about. I believe that somewhere, somehow there are other living organisms of some sort. Do I think they're tiny little green men in spacesuits with large glassy black eyes and fly in saucers? No. But I do think there's something out there.

13. And for that matter, I think our government knows more than they tell us.

14. I went streaking once in January. This was years ago, up in Michigan. The weather was unseasonably warm, and some friends and I went streaking on the golf course at the country club.

15. I'm terrified of Canadian Geese.

16. Despite that, I'd love to live in Canada. God's Country up there. It's so beautiful and clean up there. The people are so nice and friendly and talk so funnily! The beer is strong and delicious, and they love hockey and curling, 2 of the best sports. It's a shame it's so damn cold there. I don't do cold.

17. I talk to my dogs like they are people, and I use voices to carry on their halves of the conversations. They're my best friends.

18. I know all the words to "American Pie" by Don McLean.

19. If I were going to go lesbian (and I'm not, but IF I were), here's the short list: Elisabeth Shue, Ashley Judd, Rachel McAdams, Michelle Obama.

20. You know how people ask if you're a morning person, or an evening person? I'm pretty sure I'm neither. I'm tired in the morning, and I'm tired in the evening. Should I be alarmed? My best hours are between 9 and 3. Anything before or after that and I'm essentially worthless.

21. Olive Garden commercials very much displease and annoy me to no end.

22. I love to make and re-make lists. Can you tell?

23. I'm obsessed with all things Vera Bradley.

24. Chewbacca was my first love. If you know this story, consider yourself amongst my closest friends.

25. I always check the backseat of my car when I get in. You never know who might be hiding back there. A murderer waiting to attack? Jason Bateman waiting to propose marriage? Ed MacMahon with a big check? Wait, is Ed MacMahon dead? Rest in Peace.

26. I hate smoking, smoke, smokers. I think my mom thinks I used to secretly smoke. Many years ago she found a pack of cigarettes in my purse. They were my boyfriend's. I tried explaining that to her, but she didn't believe me. MOTHER, LISTEN HERE. I'm 32 years old and have no reason to lie to you. Those cigarettes were Matt's! Not mine!

27. My biggest pet peeve is when people say "supposably". That's not a word, geniuses.

28. I used to want to convert to Judaism, and I was obsessed with All Things Jewish.

29. I took classical violin lessons for many years. I used to be pretty good, but these days I suck. I wish I'd kept up with it.

30. I've had so many nicknames over the years, I've lost track. Among my favorites are: Cake, Caps, The Chip and the latest - Trash Bag.

31. I have a pillow named Norma that I've had since I was a small child, and I have a hard time sleeping without it.

32. I like to cook, and think I'm pretty darn good at it. This was not always the case. Once, years and years ago (over 10), my Aunt Suz and I were supposed to be in a cooking contest against each other. She's a notoriously bad cook also. My uncles had set up a whole plan, and were planning on judging whose cooking was better. The contest was to take place in January. Then, Christmas rolled around. My food assignment for that year was the make an appetizer. Suz's was to make a dessert. This was not part of the contest, mind you, but simply what we were supposed to bring to my mom's house for Christmas dinner. I wowed and dazzled my family with a delicious sausage appetizer thingy (which my cousin affectionately named "Arf Loaf"), and Suz showed up with a bag of Mini-Snickers. FOR CHRISTMAS DESSERT. The contest was called off. I was declared the winner by default, and Suz is now asked to bring paper products and ice to family gatherings.

So there you have it! A little glimpse into the batshitcraziness that is me. It's good to be back.

Kibbles and Who?

2010-09-20T10:51:00.001-05:00

Life happens. Is happening. Has happened. I know it's been months (I didn't even bother counting how many) since I've posted. And I realize most of you probably didn't even miss me. Maybe a few. Hi, mom. But life has been happening.

I've been struggling with myself for about 2 weeks now, because I've wanted to blog, but I felt, hell, still feel, like I needed to provide you all with some sort of explanation about why I've been gone so long, and what's been going on in my life. And I would sit down to type it all out, and the words wouldn't come. I just didn't know what to say.

I was camping this past weekend with some friends who asked about my blog and what the hell had happened to it, and I was explaining to them my conundrum, and one of them said, so simply: "Catherine, you don't owe anyone anything. You don't need to give an explanation. Just blog."

And I thought, now there's an idea. The people in my life who matter the most know what has been going on with me since May. And for anyone else who might still check in here on occasion and look for a new post, well, no offense, but none of your damn beeswax.

So with that being said, I'm back! I have lots of things to write about. Updates on my knitting projects, my Etsy store, more recipes, pictures of babies and cute kids, pictures of my feet. You know, the usual Tom Foolery that Kibbles & Knits is all about.

Honestly, I have missed blogging and I'm sorry I've been gone. Fall is my favorite season and I can't let it go by without blogging. Even if all I write about is my continuing obsession with the Pumpkin Spice Latte. I know that people out there want to read about it.

This cat

2010-04-23T09:12:00.007-05:00

Spoiled much?

One herb away from Scarborough Fair

2010-04-18T13:08:00.021-05:00

Despite my strange and inexplicable affinity for all things Gnome, my thumb is most decidedly not green. The Cowboy is the gardener in our little family, and that's just fine with me for the most part. I help him here and there when he needs it, but for the most part, I'm a Plant Killer. I come by it naturally, I suppose. Betty Nuggs is a plant killer also. You won't find any green living things in her house, unless it's mold on some old food in the fridge. I'd like to think I'm a little better about having plants and taking proper care of them than my mother. Perhaps not much, and perhaps not at all, maybe I'm just fooling myself, but I have managed to have 3 indoor house plants for several years now, and not kill them.

When it comes to the out of doors, however, I generally turn the reins over to The Cowboy and he does a great job. He comes by his gardening abilities just as naturally as I come by mine - his parents have bananas, oranges, strawberries, tomatoes, okra, and all manner of other edible and non-edible plants growing in their yard. It's like a jungle over there. But in a good way. The Cowboy is the same way. We could open up our own produce stand over here with all the things he plants and grows each year.

We have an apple tree (with one teeny little apple!)

An orange tree with lots of itty bitty oranges!

Garlic

Cucumber plants (which will turn into pickles)

Dewberry bushes (which will turn into jam)

He also has some tomatoes, peppers and lemons back there. And lord knows what else. In addition to some beautiful rose bushes on the side of the house.

Every year I try to plant some herbs and keep from killing them until at least June. I've been mildly successful in the past, and some of that success has carried over from year to year. We couldn't kill our rosemary if we tried.

It's rouge. And 2 years ago I planted some thyme on the side of the house that is still going strong. I never use thyme in my cooking, so it just sit there and looks pretty, but it's growing nicely, and I will take the credit for that despite my lack of watering and pretty much forgetting it's over there.

This year I have once again decided to try my hand, or thumb as the case may be, at growing a little herb garden. I bought seeds for basil, parsley and lavender and planted them in pots. Then I forgot to water them for about a week, but thankfully we had some rain. And miraculously, when I checked on the plants the other day - lo and behold! Hark!

Green! Buds! Plants! Living things!

I can't remember which pot I put what in, so I have 2 out of 3 pots sprouting growth, and I don't have any idea what it is coming up. It's like a fun little mystery! Surprise! We've got basil! Or parsley! Or maybe lavender! Time will tell. Sometimes it pays to have a shitty memory.

My calla lily plants also bloomed nicely this year, despite my best efforts to unintentionally kill them. Perhaps the plants have forgiven me! See here, people of the internets, I will become a World Class Gardener, the likes of which few can ever hope to become. Akin to (insert famous gardener name here)!

Probably not. But if I can make something grow and have some yummy basil to put on the tomatoes The Cowboy grows, I'll be happy. Baby steps.

Speaking of growing things and making jam, it was Jam Central over here today. Jam Master Cowboy and I made 27 jars of strawberry jam. No, we did not grow the strawberries. I got them on sale at my new favorite store, Sprouts. But now we have enough jam to last us until the apocalypse.

I will be sure to keep you all abreast of my gardening triumphs. Please pray for me and for my plants and for rain in case (when) I forget to water them.

So I play the numbers game to find a way to say that life has just begun

2010-04-13T14:21:00.007-05:00

(insert perfunctory apology for ridiculously long absence HERE)

My friend Kellie and I get together about twice a week (and sometimes more) to knit, watch American Idol, drink wine and bitch about life. It's a beautiful thing. This past Sunday was one such occasion, and we made a trip to the local hippy-likesmaller and less pretentious-version of Whole Foods, Sprouts. They're not nation wide yet, and they haven't completely replaced Trader Joe's in my heart, but they're a close second. Trader Joe's, I miss you.

So as we're perusing the aisles and filling our baskets with logs of goat cheese and boxes of crackers, we come upon this little delight.

Chocovine. Anyone? I'd certainly never heard of it, but apparently it's been around. We were intrigued. We both looked at it, looked at each other, and then I placed it in our basket, and without saying another word we moved on. We have that kind of relationship where we understand each other and don't need to discuss the purchase of hilarious chocolate wine drinks. Of course we're going to buy it. As if there was ever any question about it. Never mind that we already had 2 other bottles in our basket. Never fear, we've not had any problems polishing off bottles of wine in the past.

That's a recipe for success, by the way, if you're looking for one. 2 bottles of wine + Casey James and Lee Dewyze + knitting = awesomeness. I had to rip back a bib I was working on because after that second bottle of wine, it was all wonky and had a big hole in it.

But damn, did you see Lee's performance of "Hey Jude"? With the bagpipes? That more than made up for any knitting frustrations I might have had. Lee and I are going to make Idol babies one day. You'll see.

Anyway, I got off subject. The wine. The chocolate wine. The Chocovine. We paid for our purchases and went on our way. When we got back to Kellie's place, we decided to open up another bottle first and refrigerate the Chocovine. Figuring it would be better cold, and also possibly after another bottle of wine.

Wrong on both accounts. It was quite possibly the nastiest stuff I've ever had in my mouth (that's what she said). It sort of tasted like a mud-slide, but worse. It didn't taste AT ALL like wine, and barely like chocolate. It was really gross. To the makers of Chocovine, I am sorry. That shiz is gross. Shame on you for marketing that to poor, unsuspecting drunks like myself and Kellie. I want my $8.99 back. (perhaps that should have been an indicator?)

On the drive home (and don't worry, I waited an appropriate amount of time before driving and ate an inappropriate amount of goat cheese and crackers), I heard one of my favorite John Mayer songs on the radio. And it made me smile. And also made me wax philosophical. If you're not a hard core JM fan, you may not know this song. It's not one they play on the radio often. But it's my favorite of all his songs. And as much as I think that John Mayer the person might be a total douche bag, he's a good song writer, and a great guitarist, and a sexy mo-fo. I'm sorry. That's just how I feel. So anyway, here's the lyrics to the song.

No, I'm not color blind, I know the world is black and white

Try to keep an open mind but I just can't sleep in this tonight

Stop this train, I want to get off and go home again

I can't take the speed it's moving in

I know I can't, but honestly won't someone stop this train

Don't know how else to say it, don't want to see my parents go

One generation's length away from fighting life out on my own

Stop this train, I want to get off and go home again

I can't take the speed it's moving in

I know I can't, but honestly won't someone stop this train

So scared of getting older I'm only good at being young

So I play the numbers game to find a way to say that life has just begun

Had a talk with my old man, said help me understand

He said turn 68, you'll renegotiate

Don't stop this train, don't for a minute change the place you're in

And don't think I couldn't ever understand

I tried my hand, John, honestly, we'll never stop this train

Once in awhile when it's good it'll feel like it should

And they're all still around and you're still safe and sound

And you don't miss a thing 'till you cry when you're driving away in the dark

Singing stop this train, I want to get off and go home again

I can't take the speed it's moving in

I know I can't, cause now I see I'll never stop this train

You can listen to the song here: Stop this train

I don't know what it is about these lyrics that move me so much, but they do. And I thought I'd share that with you.

So that's all I have for you. Bad wine and good music. Oh, and my Etsy store is open - have you noticed? Check out the side bar! If you haven't already, please take a look around. It's been open for nearly a month and so far is doing better than I anticipated. So I'm pleased. I'll be adding more to it later this week, so check back in.

Until we meet again...

Tomorrow is March and I've got to get at least 1 post in for February, so here it is....

2010-02-28T15:46:00.021-06:00

I'm going to pretend like it hasn't been over a month since my last post. I'm going to pretend like I've been blogging this whole time, no one has missed me (which, let's face it, is probably the truth), and we will just all go on as usual. Ok? Thanks.

First, an update about my other blog that I told you about in my last post. If you're thinking that it is the reason I haven't been posting here, you're wrong. I've been totally neglecting that blog as well. In fact, I posted on it twice and then just sort of lost steam. See? It's a good thing I didn't tell anyone the address. Now I can just erase it and pretend it never happened. The blog, that is. The weight loss is going great! I'm down about 9 pounds last time I checked, and more importantly, I'm losing inches, so pants that haven't fit me in years are getting a second life! Yippee!!!!

Here is how my February went down.....

My Great Aunt Hazel celebrated her 87th birthday this month, and her children had a party for her up in Dallas. My mom, Betty Nuggs, came down for the festivities, as did several of her siblings. We had a great time eating, laughing, shopping and visiting. Here are some pics from the party.

Me and Nuggs at the party.

Me, mom, aunt, uncle, cousins and Great Aunt Hazel (center). Happy Birthday Aunt Hazel!

I bought some new fabulous cowboy boots while we were in Dallas. Actually, these are my first pair of cowboy boots. Shame on me, I've lived in Texas for nearly 4 years and have never owned a pair. I love these. They are cute and very comfortable.

The Cowboy bought me some beautiful flowers for Valentine's Day. My favorite - calla lilies.

Aggie took up residence in the laundry basket, after we had to throw away her dog bed because she chewed it up. Hopefully the laundry basket lasts a little longer.

My newest knitting creation. It's a scarf made out of a bunch of leftover pieces of yarn from various projects. Thank goodness I hung on to all of them! I tried to make the "theme" of the scarf green, and then threw in some complimenting colors.

Rather than knit this scarf length-wise, as with most scarves, I knit it width-wise. I cast on 180(ish) stitches on size 11 circs and changed yarn every single row. I absolutely love the way this turned out. I have enough odds and ends to make at least one more, possibly two. What will I do with them you ask? Drum roll, please................ I am opening an Etsy store!!! I having been knitting and sewing like crazy lately, (hence no blogging) in an attempt to get a stockpile of things ready to sell in my Etsy store. I am hoping to have everything up and running over spring break - which is 2 weeks away. I will be sure to let you all know when it's open, and post a link. In the meantime, here's a sneak preview. It's my store banner.

Speaking of new exciting things, Lexey Rhea was born this past week!!

Congratulations to proud parents Johnny & Tiff, and big sister Sydney! I can't wait to meet little Lexey.

It snowed in Austin this past week. Like, a lot. Serious accumulation. It's the most snow I've seen down here since I've been here, and I heard it was the most snow that they've seen here since 1985. Here are some pictures, taken from school, where I was stuck all day because they didn't cancel school. Boo.

The kids had a blast, though. We took them outside in the morning and let them run around and play in it. Many of them had never seen actual snow before, so it was fun to watch them. Someone tried to make a snow angel, but there wasn't quite enough snow for that, and it ended up being a dirt angel.

Today, it's sunny and 65. I love this state!!

That's my February in a nutshell. I would promise to try and write more, but we both know I don't mean it. So in case I don't blog again until the end of March, I hope you all have a great month!

2 Dogs, $50.00

2010-01-11T17:36:00.006-06:00

Oh, hello. How's the family? Great, great.

I have a confession to make: I've started another blog. I'm cheating on Kibbles and Knits. My other blog is dedicated to my diet, exercise and weight loss program, which began in an official capacity today. I am not ready to go public with this blog yet, but after I lose a bunch of weight and look fabulous and am ready to capitalize on my success, then I will let you all know of the address and you can go read my musings over there as well.

In the meantime, I come to you today with a plea. I have two dogs for sale.

Sam

Aggie

Oh, wait. Did I say for sale? My bad. What I meant is, I will pay you $50.00 to come get these dogs and take them. They are naughty. They are rotten. They cannot behave to save their lives. They do not listen. They smell and they shed all over the house.

They'd make someone a great pet. Please come and take them. I will write you a check, or if you come now, I will give you $60 - cash money.

In the past week, the following occurrences have taken place concerning these 2 dogs.

I come home to find a small pile of vomit in the bedroom. Upon inspection, I notice something white and fluffyish in the vomit. Thinking this is strange, but not completely unusual, and because it's only a small pile of vomit, I don't worry about it. As I step further into the bedroom, I discover 2 more piles of vomit. Rather, I discover one more pile of vomit, and one giant mountain of vomit, which contains a partially eaten and digested man's sock. Further investigation reveals a partially eaten pillowcase from our BRAND NEW BED SET.

Not sure which dog is the culprit, I promptly get them both outside, and clean up the vomit before The Cowboy comes home and I have to clean up more vomit (he has a weak stomach, I've had to clean up both dog vomit and or poop and Cowboy vomit before...it wasn't fun and I don't want to have to do it again any time soon). Later we notice that Sam, the yellow Lab, is licking everything non stop. The carpet, the bedspread, my feet, The Cowboy's hair, you name it. She starts hacking and gagging. We deduce that she is The Mystery Vomiter, and conclude that she had gotten into the trash and eaten something she shouldn't have (unsure as to what), and then proceeded to eat anything in sight, including dirty socks and Brand New Pillows, which I can't imagine tasted anything alike. BAD DOG.

Aggie, on the other hand, rarely does anything wrong. She's just as sweet and nice as she can be. Her only fault is a big one. She's a Husky, which means she's a sled dog, which means she wants to RUN. Our backyard isn't fenced in, and I generally put her on a leash when I let her outside. She runs off from time to time, and I learned my lesson the hard way - right after I moved down here and I let her out in 105 degree weather and she ran off. 2 streets away. And I had to chase her down. In 105 degree heat, did I mention? And my neighbors were laughing at me, and also trying to help me. And I had to carry her home because I didn't have a leash. And it was hot. So, from that day forward, leash. Backyard. You understand.

SO. Saturday night, The Cowboy lets them outside to potty at around 12:30. It's worth noting here that the weather in Texas the past week or so has been the exact opposite of 105 degrees. It's been in the twenties and teens at night, which for Texas is what I like to call Freezing Fucking Cold. So naturally, Aggie chooses this moment to run off. I am sound asleep in the bedroom and I can hear The Cowboy trying to cajole her back inside. I can hear him going in and out of the front door and the sliding glass door in the back. I can hear him saying "Aggie, get in here! Aggie, c'mon!" I hear all this from the comfort and warmth of my bed. I let it go on for 5-7

minutes, no longer than 10, and then I decide that I'm being a big douche bag by not getting up and helping him. She comes back faster if we tag team her.

So I get up, throw on a sweatshirt, a coat, my warm boots, a hat and some gloves, and ask The Cowboy where she is. "In the neighbor's back yard." is his tense reply. Our neighbor's backyard is fenced in, yet they have no dog. We should probably switch houses, or at least yards. The Cowboy is standing in our backyard, and can see Aggie next door at the fence, and she's looking at him, but the dumb dog has no idea how to get back into our yard. The idiot got herself over there, but now she can't figure out how to get back. So I leave The Cowboy in the backyard and tromp around to the front yard, and over to the neighbor's driveway. I don't go into their backyard, and I don't speak too loudly - I don't want to wake them up. I stand there for a minute and call her. Nothing. All of a sudden, I see a light behind me. A flashing light. A red and blue flashing light.

That's right. The law. John Q. The po-po.

The cop walks up and says good evening. Through my chattering teeth (a combination of shivering from the cold, and being nervous about the cops), I tell him that I live next door and my dog is in their backyard and I'm trying to get her out. He's pretty cool about it. Asks me a

few questions about how the dog got out, how she got next door (I'm guessing he has cats), calls it in on his radio that I am not some crazy lady in her pajamas outside trying to kill my neighbors, and helps us get Aggie back. We thank him, and head home. BAD DOG.

And today. This actually is kind of funny, as opposed to naughty, but it just goes to show you that you never know what's gonna happen with dogs. I'm walking Sam through the neighborhood, and I happen to live in the neighborhood right next to school. So I see a kid I know from school and he says hello and asks if he can pet my dog. Of course! I say. And at that exact moment, while we are smack dab in the middle of the sidewalk, Sam decides to take a dump. A giant, green, smelly, nasty dump. As this kid is attempting the make nice and pet her. POOP.

Of course I didn't have any bags with me. So I tell the kid we have to go, turn around take her home, leave her there, get some bags, go back, clean up the crap, turn around and walk home with my little bag of dog poop. I think my pride was in there too.

So, if you want a dog that eats socks and pillows, craps on the sidewalk while you're trying to talk to someone, and gets you in trouble with the police, well then have I got the dog(s) for you!

Of course I'm only joking. Please don't go all ASPCA on my ass and think I'd really give you my dogs or get rid of them for being, well, dogs. I love them, but they sure do piss me off sometimes.

A Very Stinky Christmas

2009-12-20T15:20:00.014-06:00

Yesterday Baby Stinky Pants came to spend the afternoon with me while mommy had her hair did and daddy was golfing. She's 18 months now, and at a really cute and fun age. It's been awhile since I've posted any pictures of her, so I will let these speak for themselves.

Chillin' on the couch, laughing at The Cowboy.

(Note: please disregard all the dog hair on the couch and don't judge. Our husky, Aggie, sheds her coat twice a year and she's in full on shed mode right now. And yes, we let our dogs sit on the couch and lay in the bed. More like they let us sit on the couch and lay in the bed with them.)

Cheese!

Help! She's fallen and she can't get up.

Posing by the tree. (Her mom said they couldn't get a good picture of her for a Christmas card. They obviously didn't call me.)

She wouldn't let go of the Wii remote, in case you were wondering.

Looking like her daddy.

She's very curious about everything.

And now she has two Wii remotes.

Hope you are all having a wonderful holiday season and that all your plans, preparations and parties are in full swing!

Christmas Crafts and Creeps

2009-12-10T12:52:00.017-06:00

The goose is getting fat, my friends. Only 15 days left, but more importantly, only 6 more days of school until I'm off for 2 weeks!! My shopping was minimal and, therefor, easy this year. I'm pretty much finished with it. The interior of the house is decorated and the exterior is half done. Hopefully the other half will be completed this evening. All that's left to do is send out my cards, make cookies, and finish up a few knitting projects and holiday crafts I'm working on as gifts for friends and co-workers.

Which brings me to my post today. I have a really quick, easy, cheap and cute craft idea that just about anyone can do for Christmas gifts. Here's a picture of the sample(s) I made for myself.

You can use any letters you want, to spell out anything you like. Obviously. I chose Noel. But you can do Joy, or Peace. You could do names. You could do dirty words. Hey, it's your craft. Do what you want.

Materials you will need:

Wooden letters. I got these bad boys at Hobby Lobby. They came in packs of 2 (so I got 1 package which had 2 "n"s in it, etc.). The CD is there to give you a size reference. You can do bigger letters if you want. I wouldn't recommend smaller, because the cutting will get tricky. You'll see.

Cost of letters: 99 cents per package, so about $4 for all 4 letters, which will make 2 NOELs.

Scrapbook Paper. I used a different print for each letter, but you could do all 4 the same, or 2 and 2, or whatever you want. Again. I'm just showing you the method. You can mix it up as you like.

Cost of scrapbook paper: between 59 and 99 cents a page. So your price will vary depending on how much you buy and how many patterns you buy. For a big piece of paper, you can probably

get all 4 letters on it. But I bought 8 pieces of paper (I'm making 4 sets of these), and I spent about $5.

Mod Podge. Have you tried this stuff yet? I love it. It's like glue, but better. You can use it to save puzzles after you've put them together. You can make magnets and all sorts of other stuff with it that I'm sure I have no idea about, as this was my first experience using Mod Podge. But it won't be my last, nossir.

Cost of Mod Podge: $5 - $8, depending on where you buy it. It's a big bottle, and I only used a little for this project, though. So it will last you for awhile. Also, you can choose between matte and glossy Mod Podge. I went with glossy.

Tools. Scissors, an Exacto knife, and a sponge brush.

Cost of tools: You should have scissors, the exacto knife cost me $2.99 (if you don't already have one) and the brushes came in a set of 6 for $2. If you're a crafter, you probably already have most of this stuff laying around your house anyway.

For finishing, you will need a hot glue gun and some ribbon. I happened to have both of these things already, so I don't know how much they cost. You can pick up a thing of ribbon for like 50 cents, and if you don't have a hot glue gun, then I don't know how to talk to you.

The How-To

Trace the letters onto the backside of the scrapbook paper. Please don't make the same mistake I did and trace them the wrong way (I only did this on one letter thank you very much). You obviously want to be looking at the right side of the paper when all is said and done, so when you trace, make sure you turn the wooden letter over as well, so that it's backwards when you're tracing it.

Additionally, every time I've tried to type "wooden" in this post, I've typed "wodden" instead. Wodden is not a word. But maybe it should be.

Cut the letter out, but leave a little room around the tracing. You will go back and trim this in a minute with the exacto.

Place the paper on the letter and make sure it fits so that you can't see any wood.

Now comes the Mod Podge!!!

Using the sponge, dab a light layer of MP onto the wooden letter. Place paper on top, and smooth with your hand, making sure there are no air bumps. It doesn't have to be aligned perfectly with the trace lines on the backside, but if you're anal like me, you can turn it over and make sure it is right.

Using the exacto knife, trim the excess paper from the sides. I find this works best if you have the letter scrapbook paper side down, and resting on a bed of newspaper. It does NOT work best just on a wooden table. Your exacto knife will not hesitate to slice right through that table. A little heads up, from me to you. It also helps to let the MP dry a bit first, but if you've used too much and it's slopped over the sides, then you might have clumps of MP to slice through also. Just do your thang.

Once all your letters are trimmed, apply another layer of MP to the top of your letters

(scrapbook paper side). Don't freak out that it comes out white. It will dry clear. It's magical. But don't use too much either. Just a nice glossy coat. Allow your letters to dry for about an hour or so before finishing.

I didn't get any pictures of the finishing process, but you will want to cut 1 piece of ribbon per letter. Make them all about the same length initially, and you can go back and trim them after you've glued them. Using your hot glue gun, glue the 2 ends of the ribbon on the back of the letters. Make sure you test each letter and ribbon length to make sure they're going to hang about the same length.

That's it! Total cost of project was around $15, and I am going to get 4 NOELs out of it, so 3 gifts! You're done and you have a simple, homemade Christmas gift for anyone on your list.

Also makes a good gift for people named Leon.

Speaking of creepers named Leon, I bet a few of these guys are named Leon. This is my new favorite website. Please take a moment and check it out. 'Tis the season, and I promise you will laugh. And if you don't laugh, then I don't know how to talk to you.

www.sketchysantas.com

Something Old, Something New

2009-12-03T16:40:00.010-06:00

No, I'm not getting married. Sorry mom.

Tomorrow here in Central Texas we are supposed to be getting some "winter weather". Oh boy. The high temps are going to be in the mid 30s, and it's supposed to precipitate, so the forecasters are calling for the-possibility-of-a-chance-of-we-could-see-some-snow-flurries-with-some-light accumulation-on-the-grassy-areas-perhaps-between-2-to-3-inches.

You would think WWIII was about to roll through town, the way people are freaking out. I went to the grocery store after work today to pick up some batteries and everyone and their brother was there. I ran into no fewer than 7 kids from my school, and the lines were outrageous. I find it highly amusing, and yet very annoying (especially in the store situations) that the people down here hear the word "snow" and they think they better stock up because "who knows when we'll be able to get out to the store again". Oh for crying out loud. It's snow, people! It's supposed to melt by Saturday morning, and it won't even make the roads slick. Geesh.

Also, the school was all a-buzz today with talk of cancellations and snow days and inclement weather and buses and what would we do if? like questions. Bunch of ninnies. I'm not saying it's not been chilly down here - for Texas this weather is unusual, especially this time of year, and it

hasn't taken long for my blood to thin out and for me to become acclimated to the weather. However, snow isn't anything to freak out about. Do you hear me people of Central Texas? I declare,

"SNOW ISN'T ANYTHING TO FREAK OUT ABOUT - ESPECIALLY NOT 2-3 FARKING INCHES!!!!!!!"

Moving on...

That wasn't what I wanted to blog about today. I realized that I haven't posted since my trip up to Michigan for Thanksgiving, so I thought I'd better remedy that. I'm not going to post a bunch of boring pictures of my family and I on Thanksgiving (that doesn't mean I didn't take a bunch, just that I'm not going to post them you see) or bore you to death with the details of my trip. I'll just say that it was fabulous and everything I'd hoped it would be. The food was great, I got to see some friends and hang out with my cousins and aunts and mom. In fact, my mom and I went yarn shopping and I picked up some new sock yarn and some Noro. But those are boring details that I promised to spare you.

Christmas came a little early for me this year while I was up north. My grandmother gave me a wonderful gift!

My Gram and I on Thanksgiving (Ok, so I posted one boring picture of me and my family)

Here's the back story. When I was a little girl, I loved my Grandmother's house at Christmas time. It was filled with familiar faces, food, smells and decorations. My favorite decoration of all was this ceramic music box that I believe on of my aunts had painted and given to my Gram. It

depicted Santa snoozing in his chair, near the fire, and had a Christmas tree with 2 elves on either side that rotated around, which was how you wound up the music box. It played The Christmas Song (Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire....), and it amused me for hours. I would wind those elves up and happily watch it turn. I don't know why I loved it so, but I always have.

My Grandmother gave it to me this year.

It's probably my favorite Christmas decoration that I have now. And I have a lot. It looks like Christmas threw up in our house. But I love it that way.

The Cowboy and I are scaling back our Christmas gifts to each other this year, for various reasons. One of the things I had asked for, before we decided to keep it simple, was brand new bedding. The whole shebang. Bed skirt, comforter, pillows, sheets, etc. Our dogs, I love them, but they tear shit up. And to be fair, I'd had my old quilt on the bed for a few years now, and it was time for something nicer and newer. Grown up bedding. Well, The Cowboy surprised me yesterday with an early Christmas present!

This isn't the best picture, and it's still a little wrinkly from being in the package, but here's our new bedding! We set it all up, I took a quick picture, and then we had to cover it all up with the "dog blanket", which is our old quilt, which we are keeping on top of the new stuff, so the dogs don't tear it up. I wish we could see the bedding all the time, but it makes me happy just knowing it's there, and I love sleeping in new sheets.

Well, I'm off to watch the weather report and laugh at some fools. I hope it does snow, though. That would be pretty neat to see. But I'm not gonna lose my cool over it or anything.

The Holiday Hairies

2009-11-21T13:14:00.005-06:00

When I was little, on the day of a big holiday (Easter, Thanksgiving or Christmas), you stayed the hell out of my Grandmother's way. My Grandma is the nicest lady ever, but if you got in her path and she was trying to cook a turkey or set a table or smoke a cigarette, WATCH OUT. She had, what we in my family affectionately (but quite seriously) referred to as: The Holiday Hairies. She got "hairy" right around the holidays - stressing out and fussing over everything and everybody. She would bark orders at anyone who dared enter a room with her, and you were required to carry out those instructions to the T, or risk being further yelled at. We all learned early on to just stay outside/down the hall/in the bathroom and out of her way.

I myself have had a touch of the Holiday Hairies the past 2 or 3 days trying to get all my clothes washed, presents wrapped, songs uploaded into my iPod, and stuff in general ready to go to Michigan. Ang and I leave tomorrow morning (from Dallas), so I either have to drive up there tonight or at the butt crack of dawn tomorrow so we can be on the road around 9. It should be about 2 full days worth of driving, since I'm certain neither Ang nor myself intends on driving straight through - a la Cowboy.

I'm taking a break to write this blog, and I think I've got most stuff packed and ready to go anyway. I got to thinking about the Holiday Hairies, and my Gram, and I am getting excited to spend Thanksgiving with my family. I am thankful this year to have a job that lets me have a week off at Thanksgiving, 2 at Christmas, and 10 in the summer. It really helps when you've got family (and friends!) long distance.

The following 2 things are from 2 other blogs that I read and love and are hilarious. I just thought they were great, so I am sharing them.

This picture is from Fail Blog and I literally EL OH ELLED when I saw it.

And from another favorite website of mine, Awkward Family Photos, comes this Thanksgiving Letter. (Click on the link to read it). I saw it last year around this time, and I love it! I thought my aunt was All About Business when it came to Thanksgiving dinner, but clearly, I've never met Marney.

I'll be off for a week, and I'm sure not blogging. I hope everyone out there has a wonderful Thanksgiving!

Good Things

2009-11-14T18:45:00.023-06:00

Here is a list (I love lists!) of the latest and greatest in my life. Because I know you've all been waiting with baited breath on tenterhooks on the edge of your seat for this.

Thanksgiving

My cousin Ang called me last weekend and asked if I wanted to drive up to Michigan for Thanksgiving with her. Um, does a bear shit in the woods? The answer is yes. I haven't been back to Michigan for Thanksgiving since I moved down here, so it will be my first "My Family Meal" since 2005. I am EXCITED. I mean no disrespect to The Cowboy or his people, but you know how Thanksgiving with anyone else's family just isn't quite the same. The food is always different. Not necessarily bad different, but different, and I look forward to eating familiar, wonderful, comforting food this year.

Because we're leaving in one week, I've been scrambling to get my Christmas shopping (for those in Michigan) done so I can bring it with me and save me an ass ton on shipping. Well, I haven't really been "scrambling", so much, as I've been loving every minute of it. It gave me an official excuse to get into the Christmas spirit. I try to show a normal amount of restraint when it comes to music, decorations and shopping, but my pending trip north allowed me to throw caution to the wind and dive nose first into Christmas Time. I'm a happy clam. Y'all know how I feel about Christmas.

It's Back!

Hey speaking of Christmas, look what's back on the store shelves!!

I love this stuff. I bought 3 2-liters today, only to get home and discover that one of them is diet. DAMMIT. Oh well, that will be the stuff I use to mix with the vodker. That way I won't taste it as much. Speaking of drinks....

Box-o-Wine

I was leery of the wine in a box concept. Perhaps because my only experience with it was Franzia White Zinfandel. And that shit is nasty. But recently, I was at my friend Christy's house (mom of BSP) and she offered me a glass of wine, which of course I accepted, and it was a glass from a box-o-wine. And it was good. And I was shocked. And then I was happy. And I was all, "Mmm this is good." And she was all "Yeah it's from a box." And I was all "Shut up!" And she was all "No, it's true". And then she showed me, and it was true. The end.

Target has their Wine Cubes on sale this week - $15.99. And there is the equivalent of 4 bottles in one box. For SIXTEEN DOLLARS. That is $4 a bottle. I did the maths, you can trust me. And it stays good in your fridge for up to 4 weeks (if it lasts that long, which it won't at my house and if you need any help polishing your box off, please let me know). Now, it's not the best quality wine I've ever had. But it sure as shit ain't the worst either. It falls somewhere right in the middle. For $16, I will take it. I am enjoying a glass right now as I type this.

There's my box-o-wine, nestled happily on the shelf in the fridge. What's that? You say that you see a six pack of beer, a bottle of champagne AND a bottle of vodka in the fridge? No, we do not have a problem. No, that orange juice was not purchased for the sole purpose of making mimosas. No, I do not need 12 steps. Let's move on.

Oranges!

The Cowboy bought some fruit trees this year. Apple, lemon, lime and orange. So far, we haven't produced any real quality fruit, but he tells me that it sometimes takes a full year for the trees to produce. However, when I took the dogs outside the other morning, I noticed this:

!!!!!! It looks almost ready to eat. Perhaps I'll cut it up and float it on top of my mimosas. I'm KIDDING. Geesh, lighten up.

Baby Hats

A girl I work with and her husband are adopting a little girl. The pick her up tomorrow, and we are having a baby shower for them at work on Monday. The little girl is 19 months old, and has Chromosome 18, which is a disorder I'm told is similar to Down Syndrome. She is the sweetest, cutest little thing (they've had her on weekends now for several months), and her name is Alyssa. I don't have any pictures, but if I get some I will post them. Natch, I made a hat for her.

And another for my friend Sarah's daughter, Elbow Macaroni.

I am loving these hats - they knit up in several hours and are so cute. Hats for everyone!

And the last Good Thing in my life right now is

This dog.

She is so sweet. To put it simply, I love her.

Hope you all have a great weekend!

Scenes from the weekend

2009-11-08T12:49:00.018-06:00

Park

Camp

Home

Lloyd

Morning

Wake up!

River

Dusk

Dinner

Dessert

Fire

Fun

Feet

(you knew I had to get at least one in there)

Recipe: Mexican Chicken Dump

2009-11-04T19:46:00.018-06:00

There are certain words I try to avoid using when I'm talking about food I'm cooking or eating. Among them are the aforementioned scum, the worst word in the world - moist, and the word I just used in the title of this blog - dump. Juicy is also on the list - unless you're talking about a peach, plum or other stone fruit, but even then it's not my favorite descriptor.

The reason this recipe is called Mexican Chicken Dump, however, is because you literally just dump all the ingredients in the Crock Pot, walk away, do something, come back 6-8 hours later, and Voila*! Dinner is ready. Another suitable name or it would be Mexican A Monkey Could Make This Chicken. So you can call it whatever you like.

Have you become one with your Crock Pot yet? My Crock and I had a love-hate relationship for a long time. I tried to make things, it would burn them, I would cry and hate it. Ok it was more of a hate-hate relationship. I wanted to love it, but it wouldn't let me. I think I had a faulty Pot, though, because once I burned something so bad the Pot couldn't be recovered (that was a very dark day in my life), so I bought a new one and since that day I haven' t burned one thing.

So if you are like me, and struggling with your CP, this recipe is for you. You can't screw it up. I

have made this countless times, and it always comes out perfect. It's simple, it's delicious, and you can use the product for lots of different things. I know a lot of people out there

already make this, but just in case you haven't heard of this before - here you go.

In your CP, dump the following items:

4-6 chicken breasts, FROZEN (don't be scared, it's ok, they will cook up nicely and not dry out)

1 large jar salsa (I use Pace Picante Sauce)

1 can corn, drained

1 can black beans, rinsed and drained (even if you think you don't dig on black beans, add them - you can't really taste them and along with the corn it gives the dish a nice color)

I have a CP with time settings - 4, 6, 8 or 10 hours. I've cooked it on every setting except 4 hours, and it's always come out good. If you only have high or low settings, I'd go with low.

Once it's done cooking, pull the chicken breasts out of the crock pot and shred them with 2 forks. Add the shredded meat back into the CP and allow it a few minutes to soak up some of the liquid (if your sauce is a little watery, it's ok, the meat will soak it up). About 5 minutes should do it.

Now, you have a choice. The chicken in the pot is ready to eat, and is great as a taco, or as a taco salad. But I like to be really obscene, so at this stage, I add some cream cheese. Oh yes. Cream cheese.

Just a little - less than a half a block, and I used the light stuff this time (not always the case). Cut it up into little bits and allow it another 5 minutes to melt. Give it all a good stir. The cream cheese adds just a touch of richness and creaminess, and it's heaven. Oh, there's another word I don't like when talking about food: creamy. Ick. But this stuff is good.

I serve it with warm tortillas and Spanish rice.

And yes, I use the rice out of the paper package. Go ahead and do it - it tastes good

and this meal is supposed to be easy for you.

Mmmm Mmmmm Good! Mexican Chicken Monkey Dump! Hope you make it and enjoy it!

*I used to work with a woman who would frequently say "Voila" about pretty much anything. However, she actually said it phonetically, so she was saying "Voy-lah" instead of "Wah-lah", which of course is how it's pronounced. It really got on my last good nerve and I never did tell her how it drove me up the wall. Every time she said it, I cringed.

Babies and Boobies and Clowns! Oh My!

2009-11-03T09:32:00.029-06:00

Or should I say, Babies and Boobies and Clowns! Nachos! Or maybe I shouldn't talk about clowns, boobies and babies in the same sentence or the same blog. But I'm going to. I'm all about pushing the boundaries of normal social conduct.

So Saturday was Halloween. In case you weren't aware of it, I'm here to remind you. You're welcome. As promised, I have pictures of myself and The Cowboy in our costumes, as well as The Cuteness and Stinky in theirs, AND of The Cuteness in her hat. It's a picture bonanza here.

The Cowboy decided about a month and a half ago that he was going to go as a clown. Now, let me just tell you all something about The Cowboy, if I haven't said it already. I'm gonna let you in on a little secret about him. He is All About Business. When he sets his mind on something, ANYthing, he is going to follow it through to the bitter end and obsess about it until it's perfect.

Guitar building, pickle making, getting a TV signal on the computer in the bedroom, not wearing a belt to work, locksmithing, boycotting Sprint - whatever it is, you can bet that when he decides he's on board - he is On Board.

So, he wanted to be a clown. He searched the Halloween stores and the innernets to find just the perfect costume. He purchased props, including a water squirting flower, a horn and a "BANG" gun. He researched clown makeup and balloon animal craftmanship. I'm not making this up. Here is the final product:

Meet "Robert" the Clown. He thought it was heeeeeeelarious that his clown name was Robert. Sometimes I don't get his humor.

Meanwhile, I couldn't decide what the hell to be for Halloween. I was back and forth between a witch (boring) and one of the girls from the Robert Palmer videos from the 80s (figured I'd have to spend all night explaining it to my friends who, I love, but are from Texas and therefor listened to Randy Travis in the 80s and not Robert Palmer....not that I'm disrespecting Randy Travis). The costumes both involved the same basic black dress that I've had since I was in high school (and still fits! thanks to stretchy material, but still, a victory), and I would accessorize with either a pair of striped tights and a hat, or a bunch of hussy makeup and the guitar from our Wii Rock Band. It was a toss up. As I said, I'd always wanted to do the Robert Palmer thing, but I figured the humor of it would be lost on my countrified friends, so I nixed that. And the witch thing was easy enough, but not original or creative. So at the last minute, I threw together this costume. I figured my countrified friends could appreciate this.

Rodeo Clown! We already had clown makeup. I had the hat, the shorts and the shoes. I bought the striped socks, the bandannas, and the shirt, which is actually kind of cute and I might consider wearing it again. Overall I spent about 2 days putting this costume together, as opposed to the nearly 2 months The Cowboy spent. That's the difference between us. But we looked cute, didn't we?

You know who else looked cute? That's right - The Cuteness herself and her best friend Baby Stinky Pants. They were a chicken and a bunny, respectively.

They also enjoyed Robert's balloon animals, after they changed out of their costumes.

Maddie really liked the hat that I made for her.

She liked it so much that she kept bringing me beers all night.

See? This is why you have kids.

(and actually, I'm only joking about her bringing me beer....she was bringing them to her father......again, just kidding, she was playing with the ice)

My friends and I are not young anymore, so it wasn't a particularly late night, aided by the fact that we got an extra hour. But I still had to get up at the BCOD on Sunday morning to be in Austin for the Race for the Cure. It was not easy to get up and get moving that early - but I am so glad I did. Thanks to my friends and family I raised $225 for the Susan G. Komen Foundation, and I walked/jogged the 5k with my friend Lesli from work.

It was an amazing experience. Thank you to everyone who supported me!

As you can see I had a very fun and fulfilling weekend. This coming weekend The Cowboy and I are going camping. In the meantime, I've been working on a recipe for you for later this week. And I've been inspired (bullied) to try cro-shit again. Standby for details regarding that train wreck.

Gratuitous Stinky Shot!

Hope you all have a fabulous week, Dahlings.

I'm the man of Nachos!

2009-10-30T13:31:00.014-05:00

I was working with a first grader this morning on a math worksheet, and every time she got a problem correct, she would yell out "Nachos!!". She yelled it out such as one might yell out "Yes!" or "I got it!" or "Whooo-hooo!". But instead, it was "Nachos". Keep in mind that I work with the Special Ed kids, so while this made absolutely no sense to me, in her little mind I'm sure she was celebrating her victory over counting by 2s by crying out about her favorite snack. I don't know. I'm just guessing. And then every once in awhile she'd say "I'm the man of Nachos!", and hold her little fist up, victoriously. When she had completed the worksheet, she once again declared herself to be The Man of Nachos, and then did a little dance while chanting "nachosnachosnachosnachosnachos". There is never a dull moment with my job, and I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried, and I love it. I absolutely love these kids. I've also decided that henceforth, I'm going to join her in the great cry of nachos, and will be proclaiming "Nachos!" whenever I do something fabulous or get excited about something.

Has anyone else noticed how I've gotten my Blog Groove back? This is like the 9th time this month I'm posting, which is more than the past 3 months put together. I don't know what it is,

but all of a sudden I'm finding things to write about again. Not necessarily interesting things, but they are things nonetheless, and about them I shall write.

For instance; of little importance and no interest whatsoever is my growing addiction to the Pumpkin Spice Latte at Starbucks. I anticipate its arrival every fall. As soon as it's back, I know that I may as well just fork over a cold hundy to my local Starbuckle, because at least once a week I am running up there in the morning (early, too, y'all, I have to be at work at 7:00), ordering a Venti and sucking it down before the first bell rings. One week I actually went three times. At $5 a pop, this gets expensive. And I am not a lady of many means. But they are Deeeeelicious.

Also of little to no importance, barely worth a mention, is that I've recently decided to try and take up crochet. Now, as a Bad Ass Knitter, I've been Judgy McJudgealot when it comes to the crochet. I look down my nose at it. It's a far inferior craft, in my humble but correct opinion. However there are a few knitting patterns that call for a crochet border. And it seems to go faster. And I've heard that it's easier than knitting. And I have a blanket that my friend Marcie (who is a crocheter but I love her anyway) made for me, and I love it and I sleep with it every night. (Hi, I'm Linus) So I thought, Ok, I will give this a go. I will learn to crochet. I mean, I already have yarn. I have 2 crochet hooks (used for picking up stitches when knitting socks), what more do I need? It can't be that hard.

Well maybe it's not that hard, and maybe I'm an idiot. Probably both. So let me go ahead and make a long and uninteresting story short and uninteresting: I can't do it. I can do the very fist step required - the chain. I can chain my ass off. See here:

Chain-o-rama. But what the hell am I supposed to do after that? None of the instructions I've seen have been at all clear about that. I've consulted my little crochet booklet that I have. I've searched the innernets for clues. They all have instructions - and they all vary. Really, crocheters? Really? Can't you make it uniform? With knit and purl it's the same. You knit or you purl and when you get to the end of a row, you don't have to bend the yarn, you just turn the damn needle. I give up, crochet. I hate you. Cro-shit is more like it. I should also probably add this: Crocheters (namely Marcie and Charlene, who I am sure are Up In Arms about my proclamation) please do not attempt to help me figure out how to do it. I don't care. Knitting is better and this just proves it.

To make myself feel better, I bought a Pumpkin Spice Latte and knit up a little hat for The Cuteness.

Nachos!! Isn't it adorable? I hope it fits her. I shall see The Cuteness herself tomorrow (hopefully) on Halloween and will capture a picture to share. It's been a good while since I've posted a picture of her. I look forward to see her and BSP tomorrow night for the annual Halloween Party, for which I will be making Caps' Famous Cheese Ball. It's a great party recipe, if you happen to need something quick, cute and Halloweeny to make. I will also have pictures of myself and The Cowboy in our costumes - and believe me, you're not gonna want to miss this. Not so much me, as him.

Happy Halloween! Nachos!

Yes please.

2009-10-29T17:18:00.008-05:00

Can anyone please tell me why I'm such a lazy bitch? Anyone? Bueller?

I have a million things I could be doing right now. I could go wash last night's dishes. I could put away the laundry. I could be knitting my cable scarf (which is almost done!) or starting on another hat. I could be making dinner. I could be plucking my eyebrows.

What am I doing? You may be wondering. Well, for the last hour I have been downloading $25.00 worth of songs from iTunes and looking at pictures of bios of this fine specimen:

Come to mama. That's right. Matthew Morrison. If you haven't hopped on the Glee! train yet, I must insist that you go now and buy your ticket. I don't watch much teevee anymore these days, but I absolutely LOVE this show. Maybe it's because it's so cute and kitschy you can't help but love it. Maybe it's because I'm a former choir nerd.

Personally, I believe that this guy is 98% of the reason I tune in every Wednesday (except last night - World Series was on - stupid baseball messing up everything). The show is cute and funny and the musical numbers are great, if not a little cheesy but it's about Show Choir, so you expect some cheese. But Matthew Morrison (Will Shuester) is adorable and endearing. Every time he starts to sing or dance, I swoon. That's right, I actually SWOON. Pitter patter. Hello, sir. Please would you like to sing and dance with me? Many thanks. Me loves you.

This is all I've got to show for the past hour, kids. These three pictures and the following songs:

Bruce Springsteen - Born to run

Carly Simon - You're so vain

Diana Ross - Ain't no mountain high enough

Drexy's Midnight Runners - Come on Eileen

Tears for Fears - Head over heels

Toto - Africa

Heaven - Bryan Adams

I'm on an 80s kick. So sue me.

I'm off to make it look like I've been productive before The Cowboy comes home and sees the giant ass print in the couch and iTunes bill.

Dust dust everywhere!

2009-10-26T19:28:00.008-05:00

My product endorsement for the week. I recently bought one of these.

It was the best $4.97 I've spent in awhile. This thing is MAGIC. I don't know how or why or where, but it gathers and collects and traps the dust. Unlike anything I've ever used before. I suspect it has to do with static electricity, much like the original Swiffer duster and also fabric softener. I don't know why I think all these things are related. Perhaps because they all look and smell similar.

Anyway, I'm telling you, this thing is money. Nobody likes to clean, right? Actually that's not true at all. I love to clean, but I'm sick like that. And I know there are a lot of other sickos out there too. Well this is the clean-freak's wet dream. It makes cleaning a breeze. A walk in the park. A picnic.

I am almost embarrassed to show you the before and after shots of the Swiffer Dusters. Almost. Remember, I have no shame.

Before...

I thought I had a fairly clean house. With 4 pets and hardwood floors, we get our fair share of dust around here, but we have the Roomba to clean up for us. (another genius invention, only it costs a wee bit more; move the decimal over about 2 places to the right) However after I got my hands on this little contraption and did me up some dusting, I realized that I had a dusty, dusty home.

No more!

I can't stop dusting. If I see even a little speck of dust, I whip out the Swiffer Duster and make it disappear. Really, as far as housecleaning products go, this one is amazing. I highly recommend it for all your dusting needs today. Even if you don't think you have dusting needs, you do. You need.

Walking. It's hard for some people.

2009-10-20T18:59:00.012-05:00

A long time ago I came to terms with the fact that I will never be an award winning athlete. Or dancer (in the official sense, anyway). Or walker. Let's just call a spade a spade: I won't be winning any awards when it comes to movement of any kind. I'm just not coordinated. Not even a little bit. Growing up, my legs were constantly covered in bruises, and I would often wonder if I was being abused, and just didn't realize it. Turns out, I was abusing myself. By walking. Into things. And tripping over them.

Some things you don't outgrow, and my lack of coordination is one of them. In fact, certain characteristics become more defined as you get older, and I've got my coordination issues down to an art. I'm almost so uncoordinated that it's graceful. If you can believe that.

Why, just last month I was cleaning out the bathroom and I left open the under sink cabinet door, turned my back for one minute to put something away, and when I turned back around, went to walk out of the bathroom and SMACK. Walked right into the open door.

It hurt like a bitch. The faint marking of the bruise is still visible on my right thigh. A month later. Oh also? I had to straighten the stack of towels in the cupboard before I took the picture. And hi Aggie! She like to know my whereabouts at all times. She is a mommy's dog.

Last Friday at school, I went to pick up a student from her classroom and take her to my room to work on some goals with her. That pretty much sums up my entire day at school and what I do. Go from student to student and work with them on whatever areas they are lagging behind. Mostly this is done with bilingual students. Si, yo hablo.

So I'm going to get this girl, whose classroom is upstairs, and I'm carrying with me a bucket full of learning supplies and things (games, crayons, stickers, worksheets, flashcards, you get the

picture). I'm walking up the stairs, almost to the top, and somehow, I have no idea how or why, but somehow I manage to trip. On my feet? My pants? The stairs? Air? All plausible answers. Anyway I don't know, but I tripped and I fell. HARD. Going UP the stairs, mind you.

I mean, I bit the dust something awful. I'm pretty sure a sound emitted from my mouth that

went like this "Uuuuumphhhhohcrapaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhllllllllerrrrrrrrrrrg". And then a whimper. And then I looked up, looked around to see if anyone had seen me take the digger. Thankfully, no one was around. I breathed a sigh of relief and sat on the steps to take a moment and feel sorry for myself. I felt pain searing through my knee. I honestly don't think I could have gotten up and walked at that moment.

Just then, the teacher whose room is at the top of the stairs, and therefor nearest to where I had just fallen, stuck her head out of her door and said, "Oh my gosh, we all just heard you fall, are you OK?"

Busted. Now, I know she was well meaning and concerned. But what I wanted to tell her was "If you heard me fall all the way in your classroom, NO I AM NOT OK." And also, "I was perhaps

OK until about 10 seconds ago when you asked me if I was OK, and now I am embarrassed as hell because I can't walk and oh great, here comes your class in the hall to see what the ruckus was. Hey kids!"

Instead I think I mustered up a weak smile and uttered something about being clumsy, and yes I'm fine. She went back in her room and I stayed there on the stairs for another minute or so, looking in my bucket to see if the last of my dignity had perhaps fallen in there under a glue stick. No such luck. I hobbled my way to collect my student, and then stumbled my way to the nurse's office to get an ice pack and throw back half a bottle of Motrin. My knee swelled up to the size of a softball, and it hurt to walk for the rest of the morning.

Here we are, 4 days later, and the bruises have come to full color, much like the autumn leaves. So I thought I'd share some pictures of the damage. It's not easy to try and take pictures of your own leg, so these aren't the best quality, and Lord knows I'm no Ansel Adams in the best of circumstances. So cut me some slack.

The majority of the damage is there, on the bottom of the left knee cap. The fall broke the skin, but it didn't bleed, so it's mostly just a big bad bruise. I think when I fell, somehow, my thighs broke my fall. Thank goodness they are nice and meaty. Both of my thighs have large bruises in relatively the same spot, so I think they took a hit on the step above, after the knee got the initial blow.

It's harder to make out the bruise in this picture, but I think you can see, it's large. I was reading in bed the other night and The Cowboy said something to me and gave me a nice hearty pat on the leg. I almost punched him in the nuts, it hurt so bad.

I'll keep practicing my walking, and maybe one day I will get it right. Probably not, but a girl can wish. I should probably wear some kind of protective gear, and this is exactly why I don't ride my bike or use my roller blades, both items I insisted I needed, that now take up space and collect dust in the garage. It's not just recreation with me - it's life or death.

Gobble Gobble

2009-10-18T15:38:00.031-05:00

Have you seen the recent commercial for Progresso Chicken Noodle Soup? The one where the girl is calling up the "Progresso Hotline" and asking to speak to someone because she is certain that this is her grandmother's soup she's eating? Every time I see that I feel sad for the girl, if that is what her grandmother's chicken noodle soup tastes like. I'm not hating on Progresso. As far as canned chicken noodle soups go, I find it to be among the best. But it shouldn't have the same name as real, good, homemade chicken noodle soup.

And in my case, it doesn't. My grandmother's homemade chicken noodle soup is affectionately referred to as "Gobbles" in my family. The reason for this, I've received confirmation, is because she used to make it after Thanksgiving with leftover turkey. Hence, the gobble. But she would

also make it with chicken at other, less turkified times of the year, but still called it Gobbles. Hey, whatever. It works in our family and the soup is damn delicious, so I don't care what you call it.

That's my Gram there on the right. And her sister, my great aunt Hazel on the left. Let's just

take a moment and reflect upon how awesome grandparents in general are. Now, please understand that I'm not trying to boast or make anyone out there feel inferior, but let me assure you now that my grandmother is the best grandmother ever. She could kick all your grandmother's asses. She could. Trust me. And now let's take a moment in

advance and thank this woman for her soup, the recipe of which I'm about to share with you. Thank you Gram! You could show those Progresso people a thing or two about soup.

Here are the ingredients you will need for Gobbles.

1/2 roaster chicken

3 carrots

4 celery stalks

1 medium onion

parsley flakes (or fresh parsley)

salt and pepper to taste

noodles (of your choosing, but if you want it Gobbles style, we use medium shells. I don't know why, but I've learned to just trust in the recipe and go with it)

That's it! 7 ingredients and it's perfection in a bowl. So let's get started.

First, the chicken. Now ordinarily I buy a roaster chicken and cut it in half. But on this particular occasion, the grocery story didn't have any roaster chickens. (What the hell kind of grocery story doesn't have roaster chickens? Seriously. Maybe there was a sale and I missed it or something).

So I bought a cut up whole chicken. Hey, it saved me the work. This would also be acceptable if

you have an aversion to cutting up a chicken. Either way, for a regular batch of soup, you only need half the bird, so I only used half of the pieces, and froze the rest. Perfect for more Gobbles another time.

Go ahead and rinse that bird off, just briefly. Then toss it in a large stock pot with a lid. Like so.

And cover the chicken with water. Like so.

Cover with the lid and bring it to a boil. The nature of the chicken and the fact that you're using all the pieces, including the fat, will cause there to be a little bit of a foamy scum at the top of the pot when it boils. I don't like to use the word scum when I'm talking about something I'm going

to eat - but I also can't think of a better word for it. See for yourself.

It's not a big deal, and it's not really all that gross, but I usually get rid of it. Use a spoon and scoop it off. You aren't losing any flavor from it, I promise. Let the chicken boil in the pot uncovered for 2 hours. During this 2 hours, you will add your vegetables. I usually add them

after an hour - so about halfway through.

There's our veggies. It's a mirepoux. That is a shout out to my friend Heather and The Mad Chef. Whoops, looky there I used 4 carrots and I told you you only needed 3. Well I like carrots and no one is the boss of your soup, so use as many as you want. But not too many or then you'll have carrot soup, which by the way, The Mad Chef made a delicious version of.

Moving on. Roughly chop the veggies. I like to see what I'm eating, so I don't cut them too small so that they cook away. About like this.

Also please note that it's extremely important that your veggies don't touch when you put them in the bowl to await their turn in the hot tub. I mean it! I am a veggie segregationist and I do not want them mingling.

When it's their time, toss them in.

The carrots and celery will sink, but the onion will float. I usually season around this time too. I have no measurements to give you. I just toss in some salt and pepper. When in doubt, go light. You can always add more later.

Continue simmering for another hour. And let me tell you - this is when it starts to get good. This is when the house starts to smell wonderful. Like grandmother's houses, and happiness and love and all things warm and fuzzy. You might want to take a nap on the couch. Neighborhood

children will smell the soup from the street and ring your doorbell asking you for some. Turn

them away. They have their own grandmothers. Or better yet, give them a can of Progresso.

A note on the parsley. In my Gram's recipe, she calls for and has always (to my knowledge) used dried parsley flakes. I don't know about you, but I don't keep dried parsley flakes in my

cupboard, because I never use them. Fresh parsley is so flavorful and easy to find, and if I

bought a thing of the dry stuff, it would sit up there for years and I would only use a sprinkle

here and there. And they say dry herbs go bad after 6 months. So, I use fresh parsley. About a handful. I chop it up roughly, and toss it in after the veggies have had a chance to do their thing.

And then just continue cooking. After awhile, you can check the seasonings. If it needs more salt or pepper, go ahead and add more.

Your nose and eyes will tell you when the Gobbles are done. It takes about 2 hours, but it could be more or less, depending on your pot, the amount of chicken, etc. But trust me, you will know.

It will look like this and it will smell better than anything you've ever smelled in your life. You can see here that a bit of the liquid evaporates during the 2 hours. Sometimes I add in a couple

cupfuls of water at this stage. Go ahead and do that if you want. Just make sure to test the

seasonings again and add more salt if it needs it (it usually does). Take the chicken out of the pot, set it aside for a few minutes, until it's cooled down enough that you can handle it.

I use a slotted spoon to make sure I get every little bit of chicken out of the pot. And even

though I do that, it's still possible that a little piece of bone or something is floating in there. It's homemade, after all. Just be careful when you eat it, especially if you give it to little ones.

Separate the chicken pieces - meat, fat, bone. Get in there and dig all the meat out and shred it with 2 forks.

If you only like white meat - hey that's ok. I'm an equal opportunist when it comes to chicken. I know no color. But you do whatever floats your boat. While you are shredding the chicken, bring the soup liquid up to a boil.

Now let's talk about the noodles. I know it's odd to use shells in chicken noodle soup. I have a friend who makes chicken noodle soup, and she swears that the only type of noodle that will do is an egg noodle. I'm sure egg noodles would taste just fine. But I'm not going for fine, dammit, and I'm not making homemade chicken noodle soup, I am making Gobbles. And in Gobbles, we use

medium shells.

Trust in the recipe. Once the soup is boiling, add the shells and cook until the shells are done. Then add in the chicken meat. Taste again - just to make sure - and adjust if necessary.

Look at that deliciousness. Now stand back and give yourself a pat on the back. You just made homemade chicken noodle soup! You just made Gobbles!

Now, to really make it Gobbles, you have to eat it the way we do in my family. With a sprinkle of cheese (Parmesan or Romano) and a handful of croutons. I know it's weird. But it's how we do it.

Just try it. If you don't like it, it's ok. You can eat it however you want. The Cowboy didn't care for the croutons. He didn't like how they got soggy.

So he pushed them all to the side of his bowl and made a little stockpile of croutons. Hey, it's cool. Eat it however you like it. The point is, it is delicious. It is the perfect fall or winter dinner. It is love. It is home. It is my grandmother. Enjoy!

October is....

2009-10-17T07:47:00.017-05:00

October is....

My favorite month of the year. Or at least it used to be when I lived in Michigan and we had a little thing I like to call "seasons", which are practically non existent here in Texas. Actually, there are 2 seasons here in Texas. We call them "So Hot I Might F--king Melt" and "Oooooh no, it might actually ice and we better close down the whole town for 3 days". There's no happy medium. I miss the medium. I need the medium. The temps have been gradually cooling down here, and I think we might finally be over the 90 degree days. This week the highs are supposed to be in the 70s, which is not at all resembling the falls I knew up north, but I will take it. I can open my windows and put on my button tab hat and pretend like it's cold outside.

ACL. The Austin City Limits music festival was 2 weeks ago, and once again my cousin and her husband, The Doctah and I went. And once again, we had a great time. Despite the crappy

weather. Friday's weather was amazing - high around 80, sunny, beautiful, perfect. Saturday it

rained all day (which was fine with me, since I didn't go on Saturday) and by Sunday, the entire

park was a mudpit. A stinky, smelly, messy, disgusting mudpit. And let me tell you what, kids,

there were some crazy fools walking around that park in their bare feet. Not Caps, no sir. I didn't want to get any of those crazy worm-like diseases The Doctah was warning me about.

Thank goodness for my $6 Target rain boots. Best $6 I've spent in a long time. One of my

favorite parts of ACL is getting to check out new and little known bands. This is both good and

bad of course, as we saw one guy who was HORRIBLE, but I feel bad slandering his name on my blog. But really, really awful. On the flip side, though, I found a new band that I am totally having a love affair with. The Avett Brothers.

Little known fact about me: I am a sucker for a banjo. I love it. Throw in a couple of grungy looking brothers, an upright bass that the guy actually picks up while he plays, and some really

catchy tunes that are a funky mixture of bluegrass, folk, rock and punk, and you have The Avett Brothers. It's a musical snack. (anyone name that movie?) I immediately came home and downloaded 2 of their albums and haven't stopped listening them since.

Football Saturdays. I have a long standing Saturday morning date with Lee Corso and a cup

of coffee.

The Cowboy likes to sleep until noon on Saturdays (except when he goes fishing, like he did

today), so I get up early, brew a big pot of coffee and lay on the couch and watch College Game Day. Lee Corso is a crazy old coot, but my October Saturdays aren't complete without him, Kirk Herbstreit, Desmond Howard and Chris Fowler. I'm not one for the NFL, but I love college football, and I look forward to Game Day every week.

Halloween! It would stand to reason that since October is my favorite month, Halloween

in my favorite holiday. Well it's not. Thanksmas is. That's a combination of Thanksgiving and Christmas. More on that later. But I do like Halloween, I think it's a lot of fun. It's the only other holiday that I actively decorate the house for.

Our friends always have a Halloween party (see this post, and this post from last year), and we

all have a lot of fun dressing up and getting together. The jello shots help, too.

Yummy. There are certain foods that I only make in the fall/winter months. One of those foods are the pumpkin chocolate chip muffins.

If you haven't seen this recipe yet, please click the link and make them now. NOW. If you have seen the recipe and haven't made them, shame on you. And if you have seen the recipe, made

the muffins and sang my praises, then you are welcome. They are, as Neil Diamond would say, so good. So good! So good! Neil Diamond knows what he's talking about, people. Don't ignore Neil.

The other food that I wait 'till October to make is Gobbles. Gobbles is my family's name for homemade chicken noodle soup. It's my grandmother's recipe. If you are wondering, as many do, why we call it Gobbles, so far as I can tell it's because she sometimes makes it with leftover turkey from Thanksgiving. I never make it with turkey, but I suppose it would taste just as delicious. This is the recipe I've been promising you all week, and I'm going to be cooking up a big pot of soup tomorrow, so the blog will follow immediately. Here's a sneak preview:

Oh mommydaddy. Neil approves of this one too.

I hope everyone out there is having a great October!

(ps - the last thing that October means to me is that I start listening to Christmas music when I'm alone in my car. Yes that's right. I'm not proud, but I do it. Hey, they put the decorations out in September, why can't I listen to the music? Don't judge me.)

Phun with Photo Booth

2009-10-15T11:16:00.026-05:00

The computers in the classrooms at school are Macs. We are a strict no-Apple household, the Cowboy and I. Well, mostly the Cowboy. His dad worked for and retired from IBM, so he is anti-Apple. I did manage to get him to buy me an iPod touch for Christmas last year, but he wasn't happy about it.

Anyhoo, the computers are school are Macs, which has taken me some time to get used to, but I'm not a hater, and I could see myself happily using a Mac and loving it. There are some pretty

neat programs on it, including one called Photo Booth. It's pretty much exactly what it says it is, and it takes pictures or videos of you. Here's a lovely shot I took of myself at school

this week for a project.

It's a long story to try and explain the meaning of me holding a clip board. Well, not that long, I just don't feel like it. Because the really cool part about the Photo Booth application is the

effects. You just choose an effect such as "Black and White" or "X-Ray" and you can change the kind of picture it takes of you. You can also choose different backgrounds.

We were a little slow in class today, and I had some fun experimenting with this program.

Color Pencil

Glow

Thermal

X-ray

Sepia

Pop Art

Really, I'm not vain or anything. I don't absolutely love looking at pictures of myself, despite this post. I just thought this program was pretty neat.

Now come the fun ones! I'll let these speak for themselves.

Mirror Image

I will have nightmares about the next one.

Also, I'd like to add that it was extremely humid today. Humidity does crazy things to my hair, which is why it looks all disheveled and standy uppy in these pictures.

This next one is my favorite.

I love this picture. I don't know why. I think it is completely awesome, and in an odd way looks completely like me and yet totally nothing like me at all. How is this possible?

Wednesday Wordle

2009-10-14T12:29:00.007-05:00

Happy Hump Day!

Here is a cool word picture puzzle cloud thing called a Wordle that I made using wordle.net. There, you can go and type in a bunch of text (or just link it to your blog, like I did) and it will create them for you!

I thought it was cute. Although I can't figure out how to make it bigger....

Nothing fancy or extra cool to report today, but my cable knit scarf is coming along quite beautifully!

All this time I thought cables were hard. Silly rabbit. Cables are for kids.

I must be stopped

2009-10-11T11:57:00.014-05:00

In knitting news: yes, I still knit!! I've been dusting off the needles and have news on a few projects to share with you.

First, the "Sweater" I've been saying I was going to knit for almost a year now. You remember,

don't you? Yeah, me neither. Here's the link to refresh your memory. I am knitting #1 - Graceful Shell - but the problem I encountered, very early on, was that the yarn they call for is

discontinued, and the yarn that I fell in love with and want to use doesn't work with this pattern and the recommended needle size.

I am just not an experienced enough knitter to try and reconcile the difference on my own. I looked for other patterns, but I wasn't able to find any that had the one feature that I loved most about this pattern - the scoop neck. So I did what I always do when I get frustrated - I quit. I

shoved that yarn back in the bag and back in my stash trunk and called it a day. And knit up a

few more garter stitch scarves because let's face it, you don't have to gauge those and they

always turn out exactly how you want them to. But more on that later.

With the cold weather approaching, and with The Cowboy constantly asking me if I'm going to

ever knit that %#?@ing sweater (I view it as nagging, he views is as challenging me - potato, potahto), I have decided to give it another go. But here's the thing, I still want that yarn and I still want that pattern, so I am basically right back where I was before. I have thrown in the towel and admitted defeat. I need the help of someone who knows what the hell they are doing. So I did something I never, ever do (again, more on that later) - I knit up a swatch and checked for gauge.

It was, not at all surprisingly, way off. Ok, but I still don't know how to fix it. So I am sending it off to the Yarn Fairies. Yeah, I wish. How great would that be if there were little yarn fairies who fixed everything for you and you never had to think about stuff like gauge and swatches and needle size. But alas, my mom suggested the next best thing - her friend Nancy, who is quite a

good knitter and very skilled at the maths, (which I am not) and who is willing to help me for

free (I can do enough maths to know that that is good)! So I am sending off my little swatch and the pattern to Nancy (in Michigan) and she is going to try and fix it up so I can knit this sweater with this yarn. Happy happy. Hopefully.

As I mentioned, in lieu of not knitting a sweater, I have knit about a bajillion scarves.

Here they are all lined up on my stash chest.

Here they are close up, along with a nice shot of the scuff on our wall. Lovely.

To be fair, some of these scarves I knit well over a year ago, but the point is clear: I don't give them away, I knit them and keep them. There are 9 pictured here, but I know of at least 1 that is missing and I tore my closet apart trying to find it so it could be part of the family picture here. As if I needed that one particular scarf. As if I don't have another to replace it. However it is

green, which is my favorite color, and not represented here otherwise. Where is that damn scarf?

Also, I'd like to say in my defense that not all of these scarves are garter stitch. One of them was supposed to be the Sunday Market Shawl, but turned out less shawly and more scarfy. And

another is seed stitch - so there.

Now, I know what you're thinking. You are thinking that these scarves need hat friends. And you are right. I already admitted that until recently, I hadn't knit a hat properly. And my first one didn't turn out quite exactly how I would have liked. Or even remotely close to anything

resembling a hat, come to think of it. Someone asked me in my comments if I had done a swatch for the hat prior to knitting it. A ha. A hahahahaha. No, of course not. And I wonder why my projects continually come out all cattywumpus. But I regrouped. I frogged the hat and knit it again, on smaller needles (still not swatch though). Let's take a look at the before and the after pictures.

Before

After

A definite improvement, but I still don't think it looks quite right. I think it's just me though. I don't think I would have made a very good French person. I think it's the style of hat more than anything that isn't working for me. Oh well.

Feeling confident in my newly acquired hat making skillz, though, I attempted another hat, and (I think) achieved great success!

This is the Button-Tab Hat, a free Rav pattern, and it was very easy to knit. Seriously, why haven't I been knitting hats this whole time?

I knit this up to go with some fingerless gloves that my mom had made for me for Christmas.

She'd given me her leftover yarn to make a matching hat and scarf (!!!!!), and I still have enough left to do just that. Yay! Just what I need, another scarf. Actually, I think I might try cables with this scarf. I've never done cables, but shoot if I can do hats and socks, I can do cables.

I'm off to find a cute cable scarf pattern! I will have another blog later this week with a recipe that I promise you won't want to miss!

Chunky Beret = Epic FAIL

2009-09-24T19:24:00.007-05:00

I've been gone for long, long times. I know this. And I am sorry. I've been busy. Working, and sleeping. Pretty much in that order, over and over again. The sad truth is that after 10 weeks off, it's taken me about 4 weeks to get back into the swing of things and not feel like I need a 40 minute nap every day when I get home from school. I mean, I still take one, but now I don't feel like I "need" it, you know?

So anyway, all that napping has given me lots of energy to do some knitting! I have found some cute little Christmas patterns to knit this year for gifts, and though I can't post pictures of them here (oh, who am I fooling? does anyone really read this blog anymore or am I just tooting my own horn?), I can assure you that they are super adorable and have been well received by both myself and Sam, who chewed up my prototype. Bad Sam!

Oh who the hell am I kidding? I can't even pretend to be mad at this dog.

I was stash diving the other day to see if I had any orange yarn (a hint!!! one of my Christmas crafts involves orange yarn!), which as it turns out I did not, but I found this bad boy in my stash and got all excited.

This, my friends, is my hank of Farmhouse Yarns I am Allergic to Wool. I have had this yarn in my stash for about a year and a half. Sometimes I would take it out and touch it or smell it. In a completely non-yarn-porn kind of way, of course. I bought it because I fell in love with it in the LYS, and I had no idea what I would do with it. I figured maybe a garter stitch scarf, since that's what becomes of 87% of my yarn.

Well, the other day I got this hank out and it spoke to me. It told me it wanted to be a hat. But not just any hat. No, it wanted to be a super-simple fast and easy chunky hand-knit beret, pattern courtesy of Crazy Aunt Purl. I've been wanting to try this pattern for awhile, and I reviewed it, decided I could do it (once I'd purchased size 13 DPNS), realized that this yarn was chunky (which the pattern calls for) and decided to go for it.

It's a really easy pattern, and it was (can you believe this?) my very first hat knit in the round. I've made plenty of hats on my Knifty Knitter, and I've even made a dozen or so baby hats on straights, but I have never knit a hat in the round. Socks? Yes. But for some reason I thought a hat would be hard. I was wrong. This pattern couldn't have been easier. I got it done in 2 days, and would have done it faster if I hadn't had to go buy new needles. The yarn is fabulous. Love love.

So why, in the name of all that is holy and woolen, did it turn out like this?

GINORMOUS. This picture doesn't even do the largeness of this hat justice. It's huge. It actually hangs down over my eyes. I just pushed it back for the picture. And let's not talk about my hair, ok? I am getting it done on Saturday and it can't come soon enough. It is out of control. My hair that is. AND the hat. There is nothing good on my head these days.

I am a knitter, but also somewhat of a perfectionist. A wee bit anal, if you will. I have, however, somewhat, on some level, come to terms with the fact that knitting is an art, not a science, and it's not always going to turn out exactly how you had planned it, or how you'd hoped it would. This isn't the first time I've knit something that didn't turn out. See: Sunday Market Shawl.

So no big deal, right? Wrong. This yarn was $30. Yes, that's right. $30. For one hank of it. That is not a small amount. I am a cheap, cheap lady. And I want to get my money's worth out of this yarn. This hat will not do.

If you click on the link to CAP's pattern above, you can see pictures of her hats that turned out super cute, and what it's supposed to look like. Mine looks like a giant mushroom cap. What went wrong? Who knows. I used the correct needle size, so I know it can't be that. Possibly the yarn was TOO chunky. Perhaps I am too "loose" a knitter. I don't know. But here is what I do know. I am knitting this hat over again. I am going to frog it and re-do with smaller needles. I will not rest until my super simple fast and easy chunky hand knit beret (anyone else think that's too long a name for a pattern? love you, CAP, but it's too long. too long.) is perfect. Just to clarify, though, when I say I won't rest, what I mean is that I won't rest ABOVE and BEYOND my 9 hours of sleep a night and daily 40 minute after school nap.

The Cowboy, upon seeing my hat and choosing to always look on the bright side, pointed out to me that all I needed were some fake dreads and a Bob Marley CD and Poof! I have a Halloween costume. That is why I love him.

Burn baby burn. Vacation inferno.

2009-08-16T18:08:00.023-05:00

Oh hi. I'm back from my vacation to the pits of hell. Er, I mean Palo Duro Canyon. Same difference. Pardon me if I'm in a salty mood. I have to work tomorrow. Boooooooooo.

So yeah, it was hot. Hotter than hell. Hot hot hot. Ole ole, ole ole. Let's see how many stupid song references I can throw in here.

Palo Duro Canyon was beautiful, don't get me wrong. But we spent 10 hours in the car to arrive at a place where you had to get up at 6:00 am every morning (which, let's just be honest for a second, isn't my idea of a "vacation") just to be able to actually see anything cool in the canyon, because by 10:00 it was 110+ degrees. Every. Single. Day.

So as you might imagine a lot of our time was spent in the wonderful air-conditioned oasis-like coolness of the camper. Praise the Lord for AC. Because of this, rather than a bunch of beautiful scenic photos of the park to show you, I have a ton of videos of Sydney. Because that's what we did. Played with the kid and took naps and ate junk food (the napping and junk food are totally my idea of a vacation). So here you go..... scenes from my vacation.

In this first one, we see Sydney growing up just a little too fast and exploring my makeup bag.

This next one features me tickling her. I love the way she laughs, and at one point, she snorts. Which is always funny. You can also hear Tiff in the background looking for the fly swatter. Here's another downside to Palo Duro - flies EVERYWHERE.

And my personal favorite, us quizzing Sydney on what certain animals/people "say". We asked her this no fewer than 20 times and it never got old.

And ok, I admit that we did get up early a few mornings and go hiking.

And the canyon was lovely.

And I took some pictures.

Of things other than Sydney, I mean. Such as The Cowboy's back covered in flies.

I told you it was bad.

As I said, it's back to school for me tomorrow. Summer was fun, but I'm looking forward to getting back into a routine and seeing my kids again. Hope you all had a great summer too! (although it's hard to imagine that summer is "over" when it's still 100 degrees outside every day....oh, Michigan falls, how I miss you)

Awkward Friend

2009-08-07T11:15:00.006-05:00

This is my friend Charlene.

She's from New Jersey. Need I say more?

Yes? Ok. She calls a purse a pocketbook. She says soda instead of pop (which isn't that weird to me anymore since I live in Texas) and rolls instead of buns. It's not a sucker, it's a lolly. Right, Charlene? And she loves Bruce Springsteen and Jon Bon Jovi.

Charlene is a fan of wearing very colorful outfits and coordinates all her accessories, shoes, jewelry and handbags with these outfits. My favorite of hers is the "ocean" motif jumper. I wish I had a picture to show you.

Charlene always skips to the last page of a book and reads it before she finishes the book. It drives me crazy. You can't suggest a good book to her, she will just ruin it.

Some of you might remember Charlene from this blog post. Pebbles and Bam Bam are still alive and well, in case you were all wondering.

Charlene is married to Jim Erickson (not just "Jim", no, you have to include the Erickson) and they have 2 children: Matthew and Catherine.

If you have never visited the website Awkward Family Photos, I highly recommend you do. Hours upon hours of laughs. Charlene discovered this little gem of a website through my blog a few weeks back. That is what this blog is all about, people. Bringing you to the lolz. Well not really. I still haven't decided what this blog is all about, but hey, if I can make one person laugh then I'll keep writing, and if I can't make one person laugh then at least I can lead them to AFP and they will make them laugh.

Anyhoo, Charlene is no stranger to awkward photos of her family. So after visiting the website and laughing unendingly, she decided to submit some photos for consideration. After a few days of checking the website frequently searching for her pictures, she received an e-mail from AFP asking her if they could include 2 of her pictures in a book they are compiling. Charlene's response? "HELL YES!" She says her children are going to kill her, but she doesn't care. She's going to be a celebrity. Ok that's a stretch. But still, this is very exciting.

Here now are the 2 pictures.

Matthew, Charlene, Jim Erickson and Catherine pose together after one of Catherine's ballet recitals. Matthew is going through the "change" and becoming a man-child. He hasn't smiled in a family picture since 2007. You can't pay that kid to smile.

Here are Matthew and Catherine after the nativity play at their church this past Christmas. Is that a hint of a smile I see, Matthew? Or are you grimacing thinking about the fact that your mother is in your face taking a picture of you in what is clearly a bathrobe and is going to not only show this picture to your future girlfriends, but also send it in to a website to be published in a book for all the world to see? I can't say I blame you, friend.

Also, who knew that the shepherds wore bathrobes? And hung out with little old Russian ladies? I need to read that bible more often.

Congrats to Charlene, Jim Erickson, Matthew and Catherine on their recent publishing success! I have no idea when the book comes out, but I can't wait!

**Edited to Add** Charlene just informed me that she is not from New Jersey. She is from Philly. Tomato, tomahto.

Double D

2009-08-06T08:03:00.042-05:00

This blog is not about breasts. If you've seen the title and have come here looking for information or pictures pertaining to hooters, fun bags, jugs, golden bozos, or any of the like, I am sorry to disappoint you, but you've come to the wrong blog. AND the wrong lady.

Rather, this blog is about my trips this past week to the 2 D's. Dallas and Detroit. First let me just say that moving away from where you were born, raised and lived for 27 years and then going back and trying to cram in 27 years of friends, family and former co-worker visits in 4 and a half days is exhausting. I never got so little sleep in my life and if there's one thing we know about me, it's that I need my sleep. So if I didn't get to see you while I was there, or if I did see you, but not enough, I am sorry.

I have compiled a series of highlights, lowlights, and observations pertaining to my trips.

Lowlight
Started the vacation off my locking my keys in my car upon my arrival in Dallas. Along with my luggage. All. Locked. In. After using a few choice expletives, and Benny trying his hardest to break into my car with a coat hanger (I'm sure his neighbors loved that), I decided to sleep on it and call a Locksmith in the morning. The Locksmith comes, does the exact same thing I'd seen Benny doing the night before (only with an official looking un-bent coat hanger thingy) and within 60 seconds - POP. $50 later and I have my things and my keys. Great way to begin the vacation.

Highlight
Got to see the Detroit Tigers kick the Texas Rangers' asses at Ranger Stadium with the cousins. 13-5 and it wasn't even that exciting. I like a little more action in my baseball games, but this at least somewhat made up for the Tigers losing so badly to the Astros when The Cowboy and I went down to Houston.

Me, Matthew and Ang.

Observation
Dallas is just about as hot as Austin. And the baseball game was outside. Hi, I'm Sweaty.

Highlight
Ann Arbor is even more beautiful in the summer than I remember. Sadly, I don't have a picture to show you. But everything is even more green and wonderful than my memories showed. Austin is a pretty green area of Texas, but I truly had forgotten how verdant (big word alert) everything looks up there this time of year. Not to mention that it was barely 80 degrees every day and actually pleasant to be outdoors.

Lowlight
It got cold at night. Friday night we sat outside on my friend Lisa's patio and drank and laughed (and laughed, and laughed....oh, and laughed) and it got down into the 60's. I was ccccccccold. I could see my breath. It hasn't taken me long to acclimate to Texas weather.

Apparently, when I'm cold, I look like a thug.

Observation
At first I had trouble remembering what radio stations I used to listen to, so I did a scan and found a country station. Country stations up in Detroit are WAY different than the ones down here. They play almost completely different music. I heard a few songs that I may have heard down here, but on the whole, it was different stuff. Weird.

Highlight

Got to eat at The Heidelberg, one of my favorite Ann Arbor restaurants, with some of my favorite people.

Me, Marcie, Lisa and Charlene (more blogs to come on these clowns SOON)

Lowlight
Lisa (and I, maybe) couldn't stop laughing and they almost kicked us out.

Oh wait, that wasn't a lowlight. It was another highlight. And they didn't really almost kick us out. We were the only people in there. We always are the only people in there. I don't know how that place stays open. I also don't know how they make such delicious pork chops.

Observation
Labatt's Blue Light and Bell's Oberon Ale both taste just as wonderful and delicious as I remember them tasting. I wasn't sure of that after the first one. Or the second. I needed to make absolute certain of it, so I drank quite a few.

Yep, still tasty.

Lowlight

I didn't absolutely love the Harry Potter movie*. I didn't hate it. It was ok. And I think if I watched it again I would enjoy it more the second time. But the problem is that I am a HP purist. And I'd just re-read the book, which is clearly a mistake and setting myself up for failure. I know they can't possibly include everything from the books in the movies, but I feel (since you asked) there are certain vital pieces of information which were just barely touched on or left out all together. There are going to be a lot of holes to fill in the beginning of the next movie. I'll shut up now, I'm even annoying myself with all this HP movie talk. Let's just say I was disappointed.

*(For those of you who don't know the story.....my friend from high school Sarah and I have seen every HP movie together since they came out. She flew down to Texas 2 years ago to see Order of the Phoenix, so it was my turn to fly up for Half Blood Prince. The movie came out 3 weeks ago, but Sarah and I waited not so patiently so we could see it together. A lot of hype. A lot of buildup.)

Highlight
I got to spend lots of quality time with Sarah and her girls.

This is Cate. She will be 4 in a few weeks.

She had been practicing her "rope tricks" for weeks and was very excited to show me. I'm not sure what Sarah and her husband have told Cate about Texas, but I do know it involves rope tricks, horses and cowboys. Is this how all northerners (read: Yankees) see us?

Cate is very stylish.

This is Ellie, Cate's sister. We call her Elbow. She was 1 in April. I've seen some cute kids. I've featured them on my blog.

This kid? Takes the cute cake.

I can barely form sentences about how much I love her.

Sarah is a good mommy.

Observation

The apron I made for Sarah is my best work yet. Sarah loved it. She's requested one for Cate.

Lowlight
Lisa's precious and wonderful children, Maddie

and Abby (whose bed I slept in)

had head lice, unbeknownst to us at the time of my overnight visit. So Lisa had to call me and tell me and apologize for my potential exposure to the little bugs.

Highlight
I don't think I actually got the lices, but just to be safe, Heather and I bought a kit and treated my hair anyway.

If you've never had to treat lice in your hair or someone else's - be thankful. It's a pain in the arse, and I didn't even have any bugs or eggs in my hair. If I had, I imagine it would have been worse. Heather and I made the most out of it, though, with some more help from Oberon and some good old fashioned trashy reality teevee.

Observation
Gavin is Heather's kid 100%. (or maybe 50%, I never was any good at maths and reproduction)

His buckets contained, at various points throughout the evening: blueberries, popcorn, chicken, fries and lettuce. I think we have a future "Monster" in the making.

And when those snacks weren't enough, he improvised.

Gavin's fashion sense leaves a lot to be desired, but at least he's comfortable.

Highlight
Had lunch at Zingerman's, and I can't recall the last time I ate there. It had been years.

Lowlight
Needed to take out a small loan to afford my sandwich, and remembered why I didn't eat there very often even when I lived in Ann Arbor.

Observation
The #54, Wayne's Inheritance (not pictured), was just as delicious as it used to be, and (grudgingly) worth the $12.00.

Highlight
I got to see most of my family while there.

Lowlight
I don't have any pictures of them.

Observation

I took this picture for My Lady, who would kill me if she knew that I didn't actually eat there, just stopped by long enough to get a picture. So the official story (if she ever asks) is that I ate there and it was delicious and the proprietor (who we call Lai Lai) is alive and well.

Lowlight
On the plane ride back to Dallas, the kid (11 or 12 years old) sitting directly behind me sneezed no fewer than 30 times. Loudly. And I'm not sure he covered his mouth once. He could have, I suppose. I wasn't about to turn around and look at him and risk getting sneezed on in the face. But every time I'd lean my head against the window and try to doze off.....AHHHHCHOOOOOO. And all I could think about was airborn germs and SARS and bacteria and getting sick. No rest for the weary on the plane.

Highlight
I saw Eddie Montgomery, from the country duo Montgomery Gentry, at the airport. In fact, I'm pretty sure he was on my flight. But I for sure stood near him durring baggage claim, and also while we were waiting for our rides. My ride came in the form of Ang and Benny, his in the form of his monstrous tour bus with a sign that said "Eddie Montgomery" on the front, and "Montgomery Gentry" on the back.

He did not have on his big black hat or trench coat. In fact, he was dressed like a regular dude. He had on a backwards baseball cap, shorts and a t-shirt. He was just standing there with another guy (not Gentry) chatting and waiting for his bag. No bodyguards or entourage or anything. I guess he's not that high profile, and can still travel without being recognized.

Confession
I did not recognize him at first. It wasn't until I saw him get on the tour bus that I actually looked at him and thought it might be him, and not until I looked him up on the interwebs that I realized that it was, in fact, Eddie Montgomery. Otherwise you know I would have gotten my camera out and taken a picture. I have no shame.

In Summary...
It was a great trip, if a little short and rushed. Thanks to everyone who put me up, paid for a meal, drove me to or from the airport, and combed my hair for bugs.

The Cowboy and I are off on another vacation next week, this time to Palo Duro Canyon. It's my last week of summer vacation, and then it's back to work for me.

Sniffle.

That's Mr. Cuteness to you

2009-07-28T09:54:00.024-05:00

This is my friend Eric.

If you're a regular reader of this blog, you are already familiar with his work.

He is the Cuteness' father.

But apparently I've never mentioned him before on the blog, or at least not in great length. And he was feeling left out.

So this post is dedicated all to him.

If you reside in the Austin area, you might recognize him. He's the Local Lottery Dude (official title).

He draws the balls. And also cleans and polishes the balls.

And believe me, we've had countless hours of fun coming up with jokes about Eric and how he likes to play with balls. Believe me, we've exhausted every possibility.

Eric is an avid outdoorsman. He enjoys hunting, boating, drinking, playing horseshoes, and all other manner of outdoor activities that men in Texas do.

He's happily married to my friend Sara.

But does love the ladies (don't worry, that's just Christy and I. He's allowed to flirt with us.)

He's a great chef. Seriously, this man can cook.

He looks good in a toga. With foliage on his head. No small feat.

He and The Cowboy have a great Man Love for each other. It's cute. And also, weird.

He's also one of the nicest people I've ever met. Seriously. Outstanding guy. Even if he does like to give me a hard time about my politics.

Here is Eric a few weeks ago, at approximately 2:30 am, after an evening of drinking, stirring up shit and getting me riled up about gun control. Then he goes and passes out.

Paybacks are a bitch, Eric.

Maths

2009-07-25T10:02:00.019-05:00

Time for some number crunching:

It's been 3 weeks since my last post, and I have been in 1 giant funk lately. You know, the kind of funk where you put on Iron & Wine and listen to it on repeat like 3,478 times.

I love me some I&W, but it's not exactly feel good music, you know?

I don't have any reason to be in the funk, I've been off work for 7 weeks, and have 3 more to go before I have to go back. I have 2 vacations coming up. Michigan next week, and Palo Duro Canyon the week after that. But you may have noticed that I've been noticeably absent from my blog. I've been doing plenty of reading, but 0 knitting this summer.

Needing to snap out of it, I've come up with a guaranteed mathematical equation that is fail proof and will work every time. Feel free to apply this formula to your own life, should you find that you need a little defunkifying. And you're welcome.

1 Girls Night Out with my friend Megan. Dinner, margaritas, a movie and numerous laughs. Works every time. (You'll need to find your own friend, though. Megan is not for rent.)

2 viewings of The Hangover. Once was funny, twice was more funnier. If this movie doesn't make you laugh, probably you are dead inside and should go listen to your Iron & Wine and wallow in your tiny black hole and lay on your pile of dirty clothes.

3 books purchased. Hey, you all know my motto. It's "You can never have enough wine". That doesn't pertain to this, but I stand by it all the same. If I could have another motto, it would be something about buying books when you're down. I've really cut back on my book buying the past year or so, but sometimes desperate times call for desperate book buying.

3 viewings of Twilight in as many days. I might be slightly obsessed. But Lord help me, Edward cheers me up. One of these days I'm going to learn how to use PhotoShop (right after I finish that Time Machine, find the cure for Aids, and win the lottery) and figure out how to super impose my face over Kristen Stewart's. I would smile a lot more than she does too. I mean, hello? What on earth do you have to be so damn glum and gloomy about, Bella? Do you not see the fine specimen standing next to you? Show some respect.

1 baby calf (is that redundant?) fed. Hey, if feeding a baby farm animal doesn't cheer you up, I don't know what will. And ok, the truth is that I was terrified of the cow (whose name, coincidentally, is Bella), and spent most of my time feeding her backing away and crying for my mommy, but in the picture I look like I know what I'm doing, so that's the official story.

Also, do we like my new dress? Or do we think it makes me look slightly like a baby cow? Jury is still out.

1 FO! What? A FO? Yes! A FO! I actually knit for the first time all summer yesterday, and managed to finish this scarf. Never you mind that I started it 6 months ago and it was almost finished. Never you mind that it's garter stitch and required no thought whatsoever. Never you mind that it's 105 degrees outside and I have no need for a scarf. Small victories, ok? I'm taking them where I can get them. It felt so good to feel the yarn in my fingers again. I'd forgotten how therapeutic knitting can be.

Also, I'd like to formally apologize to DaisyMum, winner of my blogiversary contest, who has yet to receive her socks. I have no excuse for my laziness. The first sock is done, and the second one is the next project I'm going to CO for.

105 hugs given to Sam. This number is an approximation, as I was not keeping a tally. This dog is good for very few things. She eats trash, and spills her water all over the place, and chases the cats, not to mention eats the cat poop, and she barks in the middle of the night sometimes for no reason, and she licks the pillows on the bed so when we get in bed at night our pillows are soaking wet, and she smells, and she stands RIGHT BEHIND you when you're cooking to try and catch any spare bit of food that may go flying (even cabbage) causing you to step on her almost constantly, and she hogs the bed, and she leaves her toys everywhere so that you are always tripping or rolling over them, and she follows you into the bathroom so that you can't even get a moment of privacy to do your business. I'm telling you, this dog isn't winning any awards or contests. But, the one thing this dog is good for is squeezing, hugging, snuggling and kissing. She will curl up right on top of you, spooning up next to you and just lay there and let you pet her. It's one of the only times she is calm, and also one of the only times she's not getting on my last good nerve.

Don't let this picture fool you. She cute, but she naughty.

And finally, if all else should fail, I've got the piece de resistance (and if I knew how to type accents, that would have them, so please just imagine them there)....

7, the number of times I watched this video (no joke, I really watched it that many times), although it sufficiently cheered me up after only 1 viewing. If you haven't seen this video yet - what, do you live under a rock? - you should take the 5 minutes and watch it. It's awesome. It gave me chills and brought a happy tear to my eye.

That concludes my defunkifying formula, but I have some more numbers to throw atcha.
3 - number of blogs I have pre-written and floating around in my head. I will try to get them down and out sooner rather than later.
4 - number of days until I leave for Dallas for a few days to hang with my cousins before departing for Michigan.
6 - number of days until I see the "new" Harry Potter movie with my girl Chicken. It's been torture waiting this long, but I know it will all be worth it!
47 - my excitement level, on a scale of 1-10, about the movie.
19 - the number of pretzels I ate while composing this blog.

Hope you all have a fabulous weekend!

That's M'Boat

2009-07-03T16:38:00.014-05:00

The Cowboy and I got a wild hair up our asses on Monday night and bought a canoe.

Now, to be honest, we'd been discussing buying one for a few weeks, and once The Cowboy gets an idea in his head, you're hard pressed to get him to think of anything else until that idea comes to fruition. So he decided we needed a boat (of some kind), and we obviously couldn't afford a real boat, so a canoe/kayak/paddle boat became our options. We did some research, looked at a few places and found one we liked, so we bought it. We're kooks like that.

We took it out to the lake for the first time today, and it was a blast! They don't make canoes like they used to, and for that I am thankful. The canoes of my childhood were very narrow and tippy. I mean, you stood up, the boat flipped. You leaned over, the boat flipped. You picked your nose, the boat flipped.

I'm pretty sure we both were terrified of tipping it over and balancing and getting used to all that and rowing. In fact, I feared this canoe would be the end of us. I could all too easily imagine him yelling at me to paddle harder or faster or more on the left or that every time I moved I was tipping us and he was getting frustrated. I'm serious. I had nightmares. And he admitted he thought so too.

But lucky for us, this canoe is fricking awesome. We didn't tip it once, and the lake we were on today was busy and choppy, but we manged to stay right side up.

We paddled around.

We swam for a bit.

We relaxed for a bit.

We stopped for lunch and had a picnic. Then we paddled some more.

We love our new canoe and we will be getting a lot of use out of it!

Well, I love it. The Cowboy (and his chins) doesn't look too thrilled here, but he assured me he likes our new canoe, and that he can't wait to go fishing.

Happy Birthday America!
Hope everyone has a great Independence Day!!

Freaky Friday

2009-06-26T13:58:00.018-05:00

I know it's been awhile since I've blogged, and instead of offering you a million excuses about why, I will instead dazzle you with some scientific fact, which, I believe, will also inform you as to why I haven't been around.

It's too hot. TOO HOT. Here in central Texas we've been having a wee bit of a heat wave that started 3 weeks ago and hasn't let up. Temperatures have been in the 100s every single day. Yesterday it was 106. I am not making this up. It's fricking hot here. It's too hot to blog. It's too hot to breathe. It's too hot to do anything. Really.

This is the end of my third week of summer vacation. It hasn't been a total waste, though. I mean, I have kept busy.

I've been busy taking pictures of Sam.

That dog is ridiculous.

And I even tried to get the dogs to wear my reading glasses long enough so I could snap a pic.

The crazy times never end around here, let me tell you. Dog in glasses!! Whoo. What's next.

I must have been temporarily insane yesterday because I attempted to clean out the Cowboy's closet. The Cowboy and I, thank the Lord above, have separate closets. Mine is organized, tidy and neat (most of the time). The Cowboy's is the exact opposite. But worse. The Cowboy's looks like a land mine went off in there. It looks like North Korea dropped a bomb in there. It's just piles on top of piles on top of piles on top of mismatched shoes and socks and boxes and ammo and papers from 1997 and wires and broken hangers and a bottle of something suspicious looking that may have been wine 10 years ago but now who the hell knows.

It's a mess.

But, he wanted to find a particular t-shirt that he owns, because tomorrow we are driving to Houston to watch the Houston Astros play the Detroit Tigers (his team vs mine, in other words) and although he's got about 20 Astros shirts (and I know this because I found every last one of them in there yesterday), he had to have this particular shirt. And because I'm a nice girlfriend, and am bored out of my ever loving mind, I decided to tackle the closet and find that shirt.

I've also been reading quite a bit because, obviously, that requires minimum movement, so I've knocked quite a few books off my summer reading list. And I've been working on my tan.

Today is me and The Cowboy's Anniversary (hence, the reason for the trip to Houston) and he surprised me with flowers this morning - delivered to the house after he left for work.

My favorite - Calla Lilies!

So I went to the Super Special Cupcake Store and bought these bad boys.

They are almost too pretty to eat, but I'm sure we'll find a way. S'mores, Strawberry Cheesecake and Toffee Chip. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

But I suppose the biggest news of the past 24 hours, what everyone is talking about, and what I wouldn't feel right about including, would be the death of a pop icon.

Say what you will about him, and all jokes aside (and I've even heard some good ones about his death, not even 24 hours later), he was an amazing entertainer. At least back when he was in his hay day. Every little kid I knew growing up had the Thriller tape and idolized Michael Jackson. The man was not without his problems, who among us is, he just happened to be more in the spotlight than the rest of us. Well that, and perhaps he was a bit sick in the head. But that guy could sing and dance. And in his death I suppose we should focus on the good he did in the world, and the music that affected and shaped my childhood. Rest in peace, Michael.

Hope everyone has a great, not 105 degree weekend, and this includes me, but alas that will not be possible because we'll be in Houston where, if you can believe it, it's even HOTTER than Austin. I might melt! Go Tigers!

The Many Faces of Stinky Pants

2009-06-07T14:11:00.020-05:00

First, congratulations to my friend Sarah who won the blog contest. I used random.org, and she was lucky number 7! Her apron will be made and mailed as soon as I finish the socks from the last blog contest. One project at a time, and now that I don't have to work for 10 weeks, I'll have plenty of time!

Now, onto the post. I find Baby Stinky Pants to be very photogenic. I love the funny faces she makes.

Silly

Delirious

Adorable

Constipated?

Curious

As you can see from mommy in the background, she comes by funny faces naturally. :)

Investigative

Bewildered

Judgmental

Angry.

It's ok Stinky. I'd be angry too if I had to wear a Giants bib, too.

Blog Contest Reminder!

2009-06-01T18:18:00.004-05:00

No big news to report other than the fact that I only have 3 and a half days of school left until summer break. Yay for me. Lots of sleeping, knitting, sewing and reading are in my immediate future. 10 whole weeks. Woot.

In the meantime I just wanted to remind you all to enter my blog contest, which will end on Wednesday. Click on this link and leave a comment on the cupcake story post, and you'll be entered! Good luck!

Random picture because I have a problem posting sans photograph. Check out how long my hair is getting! I'm trying to let it grow out.

The Cupcake Story

2009-05-26T18:35:00.016-05:00

I have always loved my birthday. It's my favorite day of the year. The one day I feel like everyone should be able to look at me and tell that it's MY day, MY birthday. I expect, and frankly, I demand, that a big fuss be made about it. And when it's not, there's hell to pay. And although this year, I'm not really feeling all the love I usually do around this time of year (perhaps it's because my mom isn't visiting like she has for the past 2 birthdays since I've lived in Texas, or perhaps it's because I'm getting older - ahem, 31 - and just don't care to celebrate that any longer, or perhaps it's because I have realized that it really just is another day of the week, month, year, life), it wouldn't be my birthday without the annual re-telling of

The Great Cupcake Story of 1984
TM (all rights reserved).

Before I begin the story, a few notes of housekeeping. To the J, Marcie, Charlene, my mom, and my ex (who shall remain nameless), all of whom I promised I would never tell this story again: I am sorry. Or rather, tough shit. It's my birthday, and I'll tell The Great Cupcake Story of 1984 (henceforth referred to as TGCSo'84) if I want to. To Wonder, Chicken and anyone else who knows me, and knows me well, and has known me for some time, and DOES NOT KNOW this story: I don't know if I should feel proud (that at least I didn't tell it to them over and over and over again, like I did with some people), or ashamed (that you call yourself my friend and do not know this story, this one tale that has shaped who I am as an adult). And so with no further adieu, I give you TGCSo'84.........

Our story begins, obviously, on May 27th, 1984. I am in Kindergarten. It is my 6th birthday. Of course, I am excited. It's the first birthday I will be spending at school, and since it's May, I've seen all the other kids come and go throughout the year with their cakes and parties and whatnot. Now it's my turn. My turn for all the attention. For the class to sing to me. And for the cupcakes.

Oh, the cupcakes.

Cherry Chip cupcakes, to be exact. My very favorite. If you've never had them, you are missing out. They are white cupcakes with little artificial cherry bits in them. And you frost them with cherry flavored icing. They are heaven. Assuming you like artificial cherry flavoring, of course. Which I did. So my mother had stayed up late the night before*, painstakingly making these wonderful, delicious cupcakes for my entire class.

*I have no idea if this is true. She could have made them during the day. I don't know for a fact that she stayed up all night, but it sure makes for a better story.

The morning of my birthday arrived, and I was excited. I was all dressed up in my birthday best, and my mom got me ready and on the bus. I loved riding the bus. I loved my bus driver, Mr. Larry. I would tell him it was my birthday and he would be happy for me. Maybe even let me sit up front with him.

I climbed aboard the bus, clutching my JC Penney box full of cupcakes (we were, apparently, too poor to afford proper Tupperware, so and my mom had put the treats in an old department store box), excited to be going to school. I had no idea what was in store for me, on what would be the most traumatic bus ride, on the most traumatic birthday of my life.

If only my mom had driven me to school that day.

My friend Charlene (NOT the aforementioned Charlene to whom I apologized in this blog, but after reading what you're about to read, you will understand why I had a hard time accepting her into my life) came and sat next to me. Charlene, you see, was not in my class. But she lived in my neighborhood, we had gone to nursery school together, and we sometimes played with each other. In other words, we were friends. The following is our conversation, as I have played it out in my head in the past 25 years.

Charlene: What's in the box?

Me: CUPCAKES!!!!!!!!! TODAY IS MY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!! MY MOM MADE CUPCAKES!!!!!!!!!! ISN'T THAT GREAT!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND THEY ARE CHERRY CHIP CUPCAKES, MY FAVORITE!!!!!!!!!!

(it's possible my mom let me have a cupcake for breakfast and I was already feeling the effects of the sugar)

Charlene: I like cupcakes.

Me: ME TOO!!!!!!!!!!! THEY'RE FOR MY CLASS AND THEY ARE ALL GOING TO SING HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!!!!!!!

Charlene: Can I see them?

Me: OK!!!!!! BUT DON'T TOUCH THEM.

Charlene: Those look good.

Me: THEY ARE GOOD! HAVE YOU EVER HAD A CHERRY CHIP CUPCAKE BEFORE? THEY ARE SO YUMMY!!!!

Charlene: Maybe I can have one of yours?

(this, my friends, is where our story takes a turn for the worse)

Me: (hesitating) No......they're only for my class.

Charlene: Please??

Me: (silence)

Charlene: Pretty Please? With sugar on top?

Well that did it. I mean, aside from the fact that she pretty pleased me, we WERE friends, and I did want to share them with her (hell, with everyone, the more people I could get on board this birthday train the better), and I wanted her to taste the wonder of the cupcake, and surely one little cupcake wasn't going to make that big a difference, I mean my mom had made plenty.

Me: Ok.

Charlene: (NOM NOM NOM)

Me: ...........

Charlene: (GULP) Wow that was really good! Thanks!

A moment passes as we continue our ride to school. And then, out of nowhere, the unthinkable happens. The one event that has changed me and my birthday celebrations for the past 25 years. The one thing that could have ruined my entire birthday.

Charlene threw up.

All over my cupcakes.

And me.

And my birthday dress.

And shoes.

Charlene: (RETCH, SPEW, COUGH, COUGH) Oh.......

Me:

I was inconsolable. Mr. Larry asked what all the fuss was about, and someone informed him that Charlene had just thrown up all over the place. Luckily, we were at school. All the kids piled off the bus, including Charlene, who miraculously felt better. But I just stayed right where I was. Covered in vomit and clutching my JC Penney box of ruined cupcakes.

I don't know how, but somehow they got me off the bus and into the Principal's office, where I continued to sob and mourn my lost birthday. I could not be calmed down. I could not be talked into going to class. Nothing could be done with me, so finally my father was called and he came and picked me up.

The cupcakes, I presume, were thrown in the trash. The class never got to sing Happy Birthday to me. I never got all the attention. And to make me feel better, my dad did the only thing he could think of.

He took me to McDonald's and let me eat it while I sat THIS CLOSE to t he TV screen and watched Sesame Street. And since I was only 6, this did work to calm me down and distract me.

But I never forgot.

I still eat Cherry Chip cupcakes on my birthday (a batch just came out of the oven, as a matter of fact). It wouldn't be my birthday without them. And it wouldn't be my birthday if I didn't tell at least one person that story. I'm glad I got to share it with you.

And now, for my birthday present, I've decided to hold another blog contest. This one will run 1 week, and all you have to do is leave a comment on this post and tell me one of your birthday memories. It can be good, bad, sad, funny, vomit filled or vomit free. It matters not. I just want to hear about your birthdays. The winner of the contest will win an apron, made by me! I will choose the winner randomly.

Good luck! And Happy Birthday to me!