tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18679291737091498122024-03-13T23:59:05.560-05:00Kibbles & KnitsCapshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13941759262351903387noreply@blogger.comBlogger148125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867929173709149812.post-53247367531853915022011-03-02T13:54:00.002-06:002011-03-03T08:33:29.277-06:00OK, here's the situation, my parents went away on a week's vacation<i>And they left the keys to their brand new Porsche. Would they mind? Hmm...well, of course not!</i><br />
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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.<br />
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So it's me again and I have some news.<br />
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Kids, hell hath frozen over. I am getting married.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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<i>And take it from me, parents just don't understand.</i>Capshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13941759262351903387noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867929173709149812.post-61550678480039589032010-12-16T09:36:00.000-06:002010-12-16T09:36:13.130-06:00Recipe: Roasted CauliflowerFirst, 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.<br />
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</div><div>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. </div><div><br />
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</div><div>Oh yum. It's very simple to make. Here's the how-to. </div><div><br />
</div><div><b><u>What you need:</u></b></div><div>1 head of cauliflower<br />
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</div><div>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)<br />
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</div><div>2-3 cloves of garlic minced (if you like it really garlicky, go with 3)<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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<b><u>What you do:</u></b><br />
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.<br />
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Enjoy!<br />
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</div>Capshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13941759262351903387noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867929173709149812.post-44152604722003755902010-12-09T13:46:00.001-06:002010-12-09T13:48:32.575-06:00Tales from the ToiletSometimes 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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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 <a href="http://cappydoodles.blogspot.com/2010/10/3-black-actors.html">when I was rambling on about black people</a>, and I said I was going to knit a beard as a joke for my friend's husband? Well......<br />
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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.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/TQEipNdrkyI/AAAAAAAACHM/8L5AeBn3kjs/s1600/photo-3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/TQEipNdrkyI/AAAAAAAACHM/8L5AeBn3kjs/s320/photo-3.JPG" width="240" /></a><br />
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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.<br />
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I've also been busy working on a few baby knits. This is Bella.<br />
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Her chubby. Her like the hat I made.<br />
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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?<br />
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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....<br />
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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.Capshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13941759262351903387noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867929173709149812.post-82803285428423633722010-10-05T07:12:00.000-05:002010-10-05T07:12:31.094-05:00Sometimes I wish I were a gay man...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/TKsVmwyNKPI/AAAAAAAACGs/QsiEyLnw_Oo/s1600/neil-patrick-harris-zumaredwestphotos11913420081214pfff05.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/TKsVmwyNKPI/AAAAAAAACGs/QsiEyLnw_Oo/s320/neil-patrick-harris-zumaredwestphotos11913420081214pfff05.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
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Such a shame. Why do the gay men get everything I want AND NPH?<br />
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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.<br />
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A beautiful, beautiful man. I love you Doogie. I love you forever.Capshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13941759262351903387noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867929173709149812.post-56738556174455833632010-10-01T10:56:00.000-05:002010-10-01T10:56:29.285-05:003 Black ActorsI'd like to start this post with a quote from the movie Jerry Maguire.<br />
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"I love black people. I am MISTER black people."<br />
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Having said that, I will now proceed with the following true tale of hilarity.<br />
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My friends. Marcie and Lisa. Marce and The J. Jerry and Elaine. Fred and Daphne. Farah Fawcett and Kate Jackson.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/TKXhzwvktfI/AAAAAAAACGI/ziCrDZ4J4qQ/s1600/011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/TKXhzwvktfI/AAAAAAAACGI/ziCrDZ4J4qQ/s320/011.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
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There they are. The fools. I love them.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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<br />
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with Laurence Fishburne.<br />
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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!<br />
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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!"<br />
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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.<br />
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Marcie doesn't believe it! "Are you sure?" she asks. Lisa and I, still chuckling, assure her that it is so.<br />
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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."<br />
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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.<br />
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No, Marcie and I say between gasps, that was Eddie Murphy.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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Speaking of beards, I think I found my next knitting project.<br />
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I'm going to wear it on my next trip up to Michigan and mess with Mr. J.<br />
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Hey look! It's Kris Kristofferson!Capshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13941759262351903387noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867929173709149812.post-84860579750341293972010-09-28T16:41:00.002-05:002010-09-28T16:44:11.190-05:00Recipe: Shrimp SaladRecipe 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.<br />
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So, for shrimp salad you will need the following ingredients:<br />
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1 pound shrimp*<br />
1/2 bag pasta of your choosing (I like the small shells)<br />
1 cucumber<br />
1 green pepper<br />
4-5 green onions<br />
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)<br />
1/2 cup mayo<br />
1/2 cup Ranch dressing<br />
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*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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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I don't know why I've included a picture of the noodles cooling in the strainer. It's a completely useless picture.<br />
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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.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/TKJgrjBDBeI/AAAAAAAACGA/SMwKUTjmMBU/s1600/017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/TKJgrjBDBeI/AAAAAAAACGA/SMwKUTjmMBU/s320/017.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/TKJhBd8J33I/AAAAAAAACGE/C_BFuOoWNkA/s1600/021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/TKJhBd8J33I/AAAAAAAACGE/C_BFuOoWNkA/s320/021.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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!Capshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13941759262351903387noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867929173709149812.post-73743904410787619602010-09-26T15:33:00.001-05:002010-09-26T15:33:51.814-05:00A Special Sunday StoryYesterday 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.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/TJ-iHsXzc0I/AAAAAAAACFs/t-Ir3Zp4gFc/s1600/kolache.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/TJ-iHsXzc0I/AAAAAAAACFs/t-Ir3Zp4gFc/s320/kolache.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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.<br />
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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.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/TJ-oM13onQI/AAAAAAAACFw/QLcMNv7GCN8/s1600/police-car-lights.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/TJ-oM13onQI/AAAAAAAACFw/QLcMNv7GCN8/s320/police-car-lights.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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Oh for crying out loud.<br />
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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.<br />
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"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)<br />
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"Uhhh, um, no." (seriously, that's probably more eloquent than I actually was. I was dumbfounded.) I stare blankly at him.<br />
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"Are you in some kind of hurry this morning? What's the rush?"<br />
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Blank stare continues. "No rush." Feeble shrug. "Didn't even realize......" my sentence trails off. I don't even know what to say.<br />
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"License and insurance please?"<br />
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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.<br />
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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??<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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So he comes back and says,<br />
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"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."<br />
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I sign.<br />
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"Thank you. Here's your license and your copy of the warning. You drive safe today."<br />
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"..........thanks........."<br />
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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.<br />
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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:<br />
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You have a pleasant day.Capshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13941759262351903387noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867929173709149812.post-11300579795728280142010-09-24T10:15:00.001-05:002010-09-26T14:47:17.236-05:00The Great Jean ConundrumAs 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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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?<br />
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The end.Capshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13941759262351903387noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867929173709149812.post-44714478792308256492010-09-23T20:12:00.001-05:002010-09-26T14:48:15.429-05:00The Adventures of KeltherineIn 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: <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Keltherine</span>. <br />
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</div><div>Back in March or April, my friend Kellie and I decided that we were slowly, but quite <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">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.</span><br />
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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.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/TJvFX_Fbo7I/AAAAAAAACEE/VKroXQMTu2w/s1600/007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/TJvFX_Fbo7I/AAAAAAAACEE/VKroXQMTu2w/s320/007.JPG" /></a></div><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><br />
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<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">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)</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/TJvGIcMOZ1I/AAAAAAAACEM/LTDZEM7qggw/s1600/038.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/TJvGIcMOZ1I/AAAAAAAACEM/LTDZEM7qggw/s320/038.JPG" /></a></div><br />
Later in May, we wowed locals with our karaoke version of Sir Mix-a-lot's classic, "Baby Got Back" (again, dressed alike)<br />
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In June we...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/TJvHJpBPggI/AAAAAAAACEc/C6SJVRoiRBk/s1600/018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/TJvHJpBPggI/AAAAAAAACEc/C6SJVRoiRBk/s320/018.JPG" /></a></div><br />
Celebrated a friend's 40th birthday (who are those girls in the green dresses?)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/TJvHnHhp6-I/AAAAAAAACEk/uGhAHBW9S1k/s1600/033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/TJvHnHhp6-I/AAAAAAAACEk/uGhAHBW9S1k/s320/033.JPG" /></a></div><br />
And played Chicken Shit Bingo, which is exactly what it sounds like. And also, awesome.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/TJvGssn_YRI/AAAAAAAACEU/3IoLro_TIVU/s1600/007+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/TJvGssn_YRI/AAAAAAAACEU/3IoLro_TIVU/s200/007+(2).JPG" width="200" /></a></div><br />
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....)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/TJvH_NnuurI/AAAAAAAACEs/HDiE3Qmrh9o/s1600/wrist+bands.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/TJvH_NnuurI/AAAAAAAACEs/HDiE3Qmrh9o/s320/wrist+bands.jpg" /></a></div><br />
We celebrated our Nation's independence.....<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/TJvIKrbZHBI/AAAAAAAACE0/oir5P5_GQ24/s1600/colt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/TJvIKrbZHBI/AAAAAAAACE0/oir5P5_GQ24/s320/colt.jpg" /></a></div><br />
By enjoying some lukewarm Colt 45. Thank you, Billy Dee Williams.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/TJvIbjm3DoI/AAAAAAAACE8/LmR-DuznDPU/s1600/wine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/TJvIbjm3DoI/AAAAAAAACE8/LmR-DuznDPU/s320/wine.jpg" /></a></div><br />
In August we demonstrated how tan I'd become over the summer, and how pasty white Kellie remained. Oh, and we wine tasted.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/TJvI7MF9_sI/AAAAAAAACFE/Sf3QTIFUyM8/s1600/wine+tasting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/TJvI7MF9_sI/AAAAAAAACFE/Sf3QTIFUyM8/s320/wine+tasting.jpg" /></a></div><br />
</div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">We hung out with Reenie (hi!) at Luckenbach.... </span><br />
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<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">And sweet talked some big cocks. </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/TJvJJ2z728I/AAAAAAAACFU/e0pCVHSXNcs/s1600/dallas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/TJvJJ2z728I/AAAAAAAACFU/e0pCVHSXNcs/s320/dallas.jpg" /></a></div><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">We said goodbye to summer and hello to Dallas Night Club with Kourtney. </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/TJvJY0ife9I/AAAAAAAACFc/zo1zuyNKB_A/s1600/020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/TJvJY0ife9I/AAAAAAAACFc/zo1zuyNKB_A/s320/020.JPG" /></a></div><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><br />
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And in September, we watched football and cut off at Pluckers for being "too loud". Or too drunk. Potato. Po-tah-to.<br />
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Keltherine has been busy.<br />
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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.<br />
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To Kellie: Thank you. Steve loves Jews. Always.<br />
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</span></div>Capshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13941759262351903387noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867929173709149812.post-64579451137564532182010-09-21T09:57:00.007-05:002010-09-26T14:49:07.129-05:0032 Random Facts about SteveIt'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.<br />
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</div><div><br />
</div><div>Oh, and Steve (from the title) = me. That's another story for another day. So here we go.</div><div><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;">1. I have never seen one episode of The Simpsons </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">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. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">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. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">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. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">5. I do not care for Pierce Brosnan. "Hate" is a strong word. But you get what I'm saying. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">6. I have read all of the Harry Potter books at least 3 times. I'm sure I will read them all again someday. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">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. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">8. I've never seen the movie Mary Poppins. <a href="http://cappydoodles.blogspot.com/search?q=pizza&updated-max=2008-10-16T18:20:00-05:00&max-results=20">I've discussed this before</a> on my blog, and I still haven't bothered to watch it. I guess I don't really think I'm missing anything. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">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. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">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. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">11. I love cheesy 70s and 80s pop/rock music like REO Speedwagon, Chicago, Air Supply, Queen, Styx, Journey. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">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. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">13. And for that matter, I think our government knows more than they tell us. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">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. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">15. I'm terrified of Canadian Geese. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">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. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">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. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">18. I know all the words to "American Pie" by Don McLean. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">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.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">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. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">21. Olive Garden commercials very much displease and annoy me to no end. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">22. I love to make and re-make lists. Can you tell? </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">23. I'm obsessed with all things <a href="http://www.verabradley.com/">Vera Bradley</a>. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">24. Chewbacca was my first love. If you know this story, consider yourself amongst my closest friends. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">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. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">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! </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">27. My biggest pet peeve is when people say "supposably". That's not a word, geniuses. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">28. I used to want to convert to Judaism, and I was obsessed with All Things Jewish. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">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. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">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. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">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. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">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. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">So there you have it! A little glimpse into the batshitcraziness that is me. It's good to be back. </div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div></div>Capshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13941759262351903387noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867929173709149812.post-49651195500812215482010-09-20T10:51:00.001-05:002010-09-20T15:15:48.095-05:00Kibbles and Who?<div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>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." </div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>So with that being said, I'm back! I have lots of things to write about. Updates on my knitting projects, my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Etsy</span> 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. </div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Capshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13941759262351903387noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867929173709149812.post-12073391899570524172010-04-23T09:12:00.007-05:002010-04-23T16:01:09.029-05:00This cat<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S9Gq3vhc9RI/AAAAAAAACCs/8zE2eRRQmys/s1600/290.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S9Gq3vhc9RI/AAAAAAAACCs/8zE2eRRQmys/s320/290.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463335697603425554" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S9GrIdMqpRI/AAAAAAAACC0/ApeAMcNaMGA/s320/293.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463335984742180114" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S9GraHitplI/AAAAAAAACC8/zg61X5VseBY/s320/295.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463336288166717010" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Spoiled much?</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S9Grm38GKXI/AAAAAAAACDE/e_qFUpZotWg/s320/294.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463336507316513138" /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S9Grvi6m_sI/AAAAAAAACDM/72b-Lpx6faI/s320/296.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463336656291954370" />Capshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13941759262351903387noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867929173709149812.post-43429889563264696482010-04-18T13:08:00.021-05:002010-04-19T10:50:38.106-05:00One herb away from Scarborough FairDespite my strange and inexplicable affinity for all things <a href="http://cappydoodles.blogspot.com/2008/09/chillin-with-my-gnomies.html">Gnome</a>, 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.<br /><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S8uKxEhYqoI/AAAAAAAACA0/uF1AeEy1bKU/s1600/houseplants.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461611548748851842" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S8uKxEhYqoI/AAAAAAAACA0/uF1AeEy1bKU/s320/houseplants.jpg" /></a><br /></div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>We have an apple tree (with one teeny little apple!) </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S8uK5PmuL0I/AAAAAAAACA8/oXi30PyngM8/s1600/apple.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461611689162977090" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S8uK5PmuL0I/AAAAAAAACA8/oXi30PyngM8/s320/apple.jpg" /></a><br /></div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>An orange tree with lots of itty bitty oranges!</div><div><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S8uLCogg8FI/AAAAAAAACBE/jTkwypipGJA/s1600/oranges.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461611850466652242" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S8uLCogg8FI/AAAAAAAACBE/jTkwypipGJA/s320/oranges.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div>Garlic </div><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S8uLQiHlTCI/AAAAAAAACBM/HHMO3RnBOFY/s1600/garlic.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461612089269636130" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S8uLQiHlTCI/AAAAAAAACBM/HHMO3RnBOFY/s320/garlic.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Cucumber plants (which will turn into <a href="http://cappydoodles.blogspot.com/2008/07/male-bonding.html">pickles</a>) </div><div><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S8uLghPdUxI/AAAAAAAACBU/iUyoLIflD00/s1600/cukes.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461612363912139538" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S8uLghPdUxI/AAAAAAAACBU/iUyoLIflD00/s320/cukes.jpg" /></a><br /></div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div></div><div><br /></div><div>Dewberry bushes (which will turn into<a href="http://cappydoodles.blogspot.com/2008/06/we-be-jammin.html"> jam</a>) </div><br /><div><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S8uL7NSDlgI/AAAAAAAACBc/YtA7wI4fdmw/s1600/dewbery.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461612822410794498" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S8uL7NSDlgI/AAAAAAAACBc/YtA7wI4fdmw/s320/dewbery.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><div><br /><br /></div><div>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.<br /></div><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S8uMNQQt4gI/AAAAAAAACBk/5Peevv1aA34/s1600/roses.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461613132448129538" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S8uMNQQt4gI/AAAAAAAACBk/5Peevv1aA34/s320/roses.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S8uMrlW6o5I/AAAAAAAACBs/8BQOu8zLdpk/s1600/rosemary.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461613653507351442" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S8uMrlW6o5I/AAAAAAAACBs/8BQOu8zLdpk/s320/rosemary.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div></div><div><br /><br /></div><div>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.<br /></div><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S8uM5XaS-II/AAAAAAAACB0/Q_qQq208l6w/s1600/thyme.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461613890281601154" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S8uM5XaS-II/AAAAAAAACB0/Q_qQq208l6w/s320/thyme.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><br /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>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! </div><br /><div><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S8uNI5f_2vI/AAAAAAAACB8/BPIxN6Bgb7o/s1600/sprouts.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461614157130357490" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S8uNI5f_2vI/AAAAAAAACB8/BPIxN6Bgb7o/s320/sprouts.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div>Green! Buds! Plants! Living things! </div><div></div><br /><div><br /></div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S8uNxwfFTvI/AAAAAAAACCE/n3vBSCKazq0/s1600/sprouts2.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461614859085238002" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S8uNxwfFTvI/AAAAAAAACCE/n3vBSCKazq0/s320/sprouts2.jpg" /></a><br /><div></div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><div></div><div><br /></div><div>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.<br /></div><div></div><br /><div></div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S8uOGDJjLBI/AAAAAAAACCM/akgIcybgf5Q/s1600/lily.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461615207692577810" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S8uOGDJjLBI/AAAAAAAACCM/akgIcybgf5Q/s320/lily.jpg" /></a><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>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)!</div><br /><div>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. </div><div><br />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. </div><br /><div></div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S8uO4zU5JLI/AAAAAAAACCU/kiDbBIp0CcQ/s1600/jam.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461616079618516146" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S8uO4zU5JLI/AAAAAAAACCU/kiDbBIp0CcQ/s320/jam.jpg" /></a><br /><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Capshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13941759262351903387noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867929173709149812.post-17256697490379456352010-04-13T14:21:00.007-05:002010-04-14T14:06:09.445-05:00So I play the numbers game to find a way to say that life has just begun(insert perfunctory apology for ridiculously long absence HERE)<div><br /></div><div>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 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">hippy</span>-likesmaller and less pretentious-version of Whole Foods, <a href="http://sprouts.com/home.php">Sprouts</a>. They're not nation wide yet, and they haven't completely replaced <a href="http://www.traderjoes.com/">Trader Joe's</a> in my heart, but they're a close second. Trader Joe's, I miss you.</div><div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 226px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S8THQgvIteI/AAAAAAAAB_8/Mb8DKLgQzE8/s320/ChocoVineBottle_1_3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459707734759355874" /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Chocovine</span>. 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. </div><div><br /></div><div>That's a recipe for success, by the way, if you're looking for one. 2 bottles of wine + Casey James and Lee <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Dewyze</span> + 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.</div><div><br /></div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S8THaWTO_4I/AAAAAAAACAE/ueCx8Bir024/s320/Lee-Dewyze.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459707903756664706" /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, I got off subject. The wine. The chocolate wine. The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Chocovine</span>. 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 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Chocovine</span>. Figuring it would be better cold, and also possibly after another bottle of wine. </div><div><br /></div><div>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 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Chocovine</span>, I am sorry. That <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">shiz</span> 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?) </div><div><br /></div><div>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 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">JM</span> 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-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">fo</span>. I'm sorry. That's just how I feel. So anyway, here's the lyrics to the song. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>No, I'm not color blind, I know the world is black and white</div><div>Try to keep an open mind but I just can't sleep in this tonight</div><div>Stop this train, I want to get off and go home again</div><div>I can't take the speed it's moving in</div><div>I know I can't, but honestly won't someone stop this train</div><div><br /></div><div>Don't know how else to say it, don't want to see my parents go</div><div>One generation's length away from fighting life out on my own</div><div><div>Stop this train, I want to get off and go home again</div><div>I can't take the speed it's moving in</div><div>I know I can't, but honestly won't someone stop this train</div><div><br /></div><div>So scared of getting older I'm only good at being young</div></div><div>So I play the numbers game to find a way to say that life has just begun</div><div>Had a talk with my old man, said help me understand</div><div>He said turn 68, you'll renegotiate </div><div>Don't stop this train, don't for a minute change the place you're in</div><div>And don't think I couldn't ever understand</div><div>I tried my hand, John, honestly, we'll never stop this train</div><div><br /></div><div>Once in awhile when it's good it'll feel like it should</div><div>And they're all still around and you're still safe and sound</div><div>And you don't miss a thing 'till you cry when you're driving away in the dark</div><div><br /></div><div>Singing stop this train, I want to get off and go home again</div><div>I can't take the speed it's moving in</div><div>I know I can't, cause now I see I'll never stop this train </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>You can listen to the song here: <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5BTzNX5OMN4"> Stop this train</a> </div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>So that's all I have for you. Bad wine and good music. Oh, and my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Etsy</span> 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. </div><div><br /></div><div>Until we meet again...</div>Capshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13941759262351903387noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867929173709149812.post-27659761256168103372010-02-28T15:46:00.021-06:002010-02-28T16:58:32.697-06:00Tomorrow is March and I've got to get at least 1 post in for February, so here it is....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.<br /><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div>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!!!! </div><br /><div>Here is how my February went down..... </div><br /><div>My Great Aunt Hazel celebrated her 87th birthday this month, and her children had a party for her up in Dallas. My mom, <a href="http://cappydoodles.blogspot.com/2009/05/nuggs.html">Betty Nuggs</a>, 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.<br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S4roC4b-JjI/AAAAAAAAB90/P5ZwubsDsc0/s1600-h/041.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443418235837752882" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S4roC4b-JjI/AAAAAAAAB90/P5ZwubsDsc0/s320/041.JPG" /></a><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><div>Me and Nuggs at the party.<br /></div><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S4rtyp3I69I/AAAAAAAAB98/H7Ni8imcYdQ/s1600-h/049.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443424554117032914" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S4rtyp3I69I/AAAAAAAAB98/H7Ni8imcYdQ/s320/049.JPG" /></a><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>Me, mom, aunt, uncle, cousins and Great Aunt Hazel (center). Happy Birthday Aunt Hazel!<br /></div></div><div><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S4ruL6dExbI/AAAAAAAAB-E/Mhq9gL9Z4_U/s1600-h/034.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443424988067841458" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S4ruL6dExbI/AAAAAAAAB-E/Mhq9gL9Z4_U/s320/034.JPG" /></a><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><div>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.<br /></div><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S4ruuY6CuWI/AAAAAAAAB-M/da1Lj-6DLg4/s1600-h/006.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443425580357957986" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S4ruuY6CuWI/AAAAAAAAB-M/da1Lj-6DLg4/s320/006.JPG" /></a><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>The Cowboy bought me some beautiful flowers for Valentine's Day. My favorite - calla lilies.<br /></div><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S4rvDhfFOQI/AAAAAAAAB-U/95eBXEhkdag/s1600-h/001.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443425943438047490" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S4rvDhfFOQI/AAAAAAAAB-U/95eBXEhkdag/s320/001.JPG" /></a><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><div>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.<br /></div><div></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S4rwlHr2vqI/AAAAAAAAB-k/uRw1dH5Bf7I/s1600-h/013.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443427620139482786" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S4rwlHr2vqI/AAAAAAAAB-k/uRw1dH5Bf7I/s320/013.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>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.<br /></div><div></div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S4rxwLFU78I/AAAAAAAAB-0/tpbclI4lhWo/s1600-h/016.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443428909541814210" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S4rxwLFU78I/AAAAAAAAB-0/tpbclI4lhWo/s320/016.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><div></div><div>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.<br /></div><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S4rygJrrk2I/AAAAAAAAB-8/4Vtvp0Y71z4/s1600-h/bannerfans_5429891.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 39px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443429733799531362" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S4rygJrrk2I/AAAAAAAAB-8/4Vtvp0Y71z4/s320/bannerfans_5429891.jpg" /></a><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><div>Speaking of new exciting things, Lexey Rhea was born this past week!! </div><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S4ryx6po_2I/AAAAAAAAB_E/fYPG3qFVA7I/s1600-h/IMG_7601.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443430039002087266" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S4ryx6po_2I/AAAAAAAAB_E/fYPG3qFVA7I/s320/IMG_7601.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><div></div><div>Congratulations to proud parents Johnny & Tiff, and big sister Sydney! I can't wait to meet little Lexey. </div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><br /><div></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S4rzN0Z34WI/AAAAAAAAB_M/h2cajH-REEY/s1600-h/IMG00366.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443430518361678178" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S4rzN0Z34WI/AAAAAAAAB_M/h2cajH-REEY/s320/IMG00366.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><div>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. </div><div></div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S4rzj99BbpI/AAAAAAAAB_U/_q-uZmdO1uw/s1600-h/IMG00357.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443430898882145938" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S4rzj99BbpI/AAAAAAAAB_U/_q-uZmdO1uw/s320/IMG00357.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><div>Today, it's sunny and 65. I love this state!!</div><br /><div>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! </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Capshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13941759262351903387noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867929173709149812.post-62170724150475499622010-01-11T17:36:00.006-06:002010-09-20T12:27:19.654-05:002 Dogs, $50.00Oh, hello. How's the family? Great, great. <div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><div>In the meantime, I come to you today with a plea. I have two dogs for sale. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Sam</div><div><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S0u4f1BVT1I/AAAAAAAAB9E/j-hemPK9dfk/s320/352.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425633033046019922" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Aggie</div><div><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S0u4tIG6FAI/AAAAAAAAB9M/zyv9bH0dYGE/s320/327.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425633261507974146" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>In the past week, the following occurrences have taken place concerning these 2 dogs.</div><div><br /></div><div>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 <a href="http://cappydoodles.blogspot.com/2009/12/something-old-something-new.html">BRAND NEW BED SET. </a></div><div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>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</div><div> 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. </div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>That's right. The law. John Q. The po-po. </div><div><br /></div><div>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</div><div> 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. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><div>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! </div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/S0u_DX_4TdI/AAAAAAAAB9U/BjOAT8Xhuv4/s320/342.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425640240800353746" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div>Capshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13941759262351903387noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867929173709149812.post-41019718912710204112009-12-20T15:20:00.014-06:002010-09-20T12:28:12.917-05:00A Very Stinky ChristmasYesterday 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.<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/Sy6bQP7SvNI/AAAAAAAAB88/mJX8zgycY7g/s320/002.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417438105228721362" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Chillin' on the couch, laughing at The Cowboy. </div><div><i>(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.)</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/Sy6W1ZdorSI/AAAAAAAAB8E/7iO0jDBcgcw/s320/003.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417433245885705506" /></i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>Cheese!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/Sy6Xa3lZWHI/AAAAAAAAB8M/XIv3MxcaraA/s320/005.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417433889626478706" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Help! She's fallen and she can't get up. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/Sy6X6QgioxI/AAAAAAAAB8U/azA2tFpiUNQ/s320/006.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417434428892947218" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>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.)</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/Sy6YxR7XL6I/AAAAAAAAB8c/aX94guWLDf8/s320/008.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417435374166683554" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>She wouldn't let go of the Wii remote, in case you were wondering. </div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/Sy6ZJdzAvWI/AAAAAAAAB8k/4_4qOs0OYiU/s320/011.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417435789669743970" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Looking like her daddy. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/Sy6ZtqM89CI/AAAAAAAAB8s/LJiB8D9OJBA/s320/012.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417436411475063842" /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>She's very curious about everything.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/Sy6aFHj4_ZI/AAAAAAAAB80/fnBNICMWtso/s320/014.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417436814492892562" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>And now she has two Wii remotes.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Hope you are all having a wonderful holiday season and that all your plans, preparations and parties are in full swing!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Capshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13941759262351903387noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867929173709149812.post-14742778467100954112009-12-10T12:52:00.017-06:002009-12-10T13:54:14.317-06:00Christmas Crafts and CreepsThe 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. <div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SyFHNlcw_kI/AAAAAAAAB6U/B5zW2SQ1fc0/s320/007.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413686525792681538" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><div>Materials you will need:</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SyFIH5ALm_I/AAAAAAAAB6c/-0Hr9MP3DX8/s320/032.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413687527473912818" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div>Cost of letters: 99 cents per package, so about $4 for all 4 letters, which will make 2 NOELs. </div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SyFIeG-V5YI/AAAAAAAAB6k/tnViKvpyho4/s320/006.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413687909181416834" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div>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</div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SyFJPrA9HFI/AAAAAAAAB6s/uzKlvcmNr1g/s320/008.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413688760669641810" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SyFJ70SpNII/AAAAAAAAB60/oilDRvYp7Lw/s320/017.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413689519073997954" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Tools. Scissors, an Exacto knife, and a sponge brush.</div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SyFKZSuDQqI/AAAAAAAAB68/z3vkxy1OmiY/s320/018.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413690025458221730" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>The How-To</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SyFLgECbHjI/AAAAAAAAB7E/Rn0v3vhgV2E/s320/019.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413691241287851570" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SyFMEwn6gyI/AAAAAAAAB7M/exIXoFrFtvU/s320/020.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413691871731548962" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SyFMrnMI5nI/AAAAAAAAB7U/FqMYdH2U6mA/s320/021.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413692539214030450" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Place the paper on the letter and make sure it fits so that you can't see any wood.</div><div><br /></div><div>Now comes the Mod Podge!!! </div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SyFNHJNGtSI/AAAAAAAAB7c/Lugt5nI4gOU/s320/022.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413693012201354530" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SyFN6dR4gxI/AAAAAAAAB7k/TvGUbJevUg0/s320/023.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413693893763433234" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>Once all your letters are trimmed, apply another layer of MP to the top of your letters</div><div> (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. </div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SyFP2X1PScI/AAAAAAAAB7s/aTjDwgmfO9s/s320/027.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413696022604892610" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SyFQhn1y53I/AAAAAAAAB70/fE0RM6MmO4k/s320/028.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413696765636568946" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Also makes a good gift for people named Leon. </div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><a href="http://www.sketchysantas.com">www.sketchysantas.com</a> </div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div><br /></div>Capshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13941759262351903387noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867929173709149812.post-22173505710039009872009-12-03T16:40:00.010-06:002009-12-03T17:15:18.269-06:00Something Old, Something NewNo, I'm not getting married. Sorry mom. <div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><div>You would think <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">WWIII</span> 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. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Geesh</span>. </div><div><br /></div><div>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</div><div>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,</div><div>"SNOW ISN'T ANYTHING TO FREAK OUT ABOUT - ESPECIALLY NOT 2-3 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">FARKING</span> INCHES!!!!!!!" </div><div><br /></div><div>Moving on...</div><div><br /></div><div>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 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Noro</span>. But those are boring details that I promised to spare you.</div><div><br /></div><div>Christmas came a little early for me this year while I was up north. My grandmother gave me a wonderful gift!</div><div><br /></div><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SxhFEtF_-CI/AAAAAAAAB58/F3ky-hkkzas/s320/255.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411150899412203554" /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>My Gram and I on Thanksgiving (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Ok</span>, so I posted one boring picture of me and my family)</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>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</div><div> 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.</div><div> My Grandmother gave it to me this year.</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SxhFs-vIsOI/AAAAAAAAB6E/WW_lR5NwZJk/s320/006.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411151591342911714" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><div>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! </div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SxhGLypQl7I/AAAAAAAAB6M/eL11CCmdQ5w/s320/210.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411152120672982962" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div>Capshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13941759262351903387noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867929173709149812.post-49675077888443142432009-11-21T13:14:00.005-06:002009-11-21T13:32:27.305-06:00The Holiday HairiesWhen 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. <div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>This picture is from <a href="http://failblog.org/">Fail Blog</a> and I literally EL OH ELLED when I saw it. </div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/Swg_e1YLImI/AAAAAAAAB50/2WkEghYVOY0/s320/129012552319521497.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406641151615378018" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>And from another favorite website of mine, <a href="http://awkwardfamilyphotos.com/">Awkward Family Photos</a>, comes this <a href="http://awkwardfamilyphotos.com/2009/07/01/awkward-family-story-the-thanksgiving-letter/">Thanksgiving Letter</a>. (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. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'll be off for a week, and I'm sure not blogging. I hope everyone out there has a wonderful Thanksgiving! </div>Capshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13941759262351903387noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867929173709149812.post-18810451645059699172009-11-14T18:45:00.023-06:002009-11-15T17:17:30.680-06:00Good ThingsHere 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. <div><br /></div><div><b>Thanksgiving</b></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/Sv9Z5g_YIiI/AAAAAAAAB5s/aF3mneyahFU/s320/ThanksgivingFeast.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 319px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404136922511057442" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>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. <a href="http://cappydoodles.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-cant-take-it-anymore-blog-contest.html">Y'all know how I feel</a> <a href="http://cappydoodles.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-cant-take-it-anymore-blog-contest.html">about Christmas.</a></div><div><br /></div><div><b>It's Back!</b></div><div>Hey speaking of Christmas, look what's back on the store shelves!!</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/Sv9Zm8NQSQI/AAAAAAAAB5k/Q_ddYel_M-A/s320/379.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404136603399506178" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>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....</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Box-o-Wine</b></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/Sv9ZRcFtY5I/AAAAAAAAB5c/XjEd9wJ7Yts/s320/378.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404136234000671634" /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Oranges!</b></div><div>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:</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/Sv9Y2V02fPI/AAAAAAAAB5U/_x02DftOGHw/s320/347.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404135768462884082" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>!!!!!! 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.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Baby Hats</b></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/Sv9XoLedukI/AAAAAAAAB5E/W28Ruk_oPFw/s320/372.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404134425654835778" /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>And another for my friend Sarah's daughter, Elbow Macaroni.</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/Sv9YY_hYS7I/AAAAAAAAB5M/CvycqdkdPlY/s320/375.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404135264259427250" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I am loving these hats - they knit up in several hours and are so cute. Hats for everyone!</div><div><br /></div><div>And the last Good Thing in my life right now is</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/Sv9XEyTUqsI/AAAAAAAAB48/kIiBAZ6GsuI/s320/386.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404133817601796802" /></div><div><br /></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; ">This dog.</span></div><div>She is so sweet. To put it simply, I love her. </div><div><br /></div><div>Hope you all have a great weekend!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Capshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13941759262351903387noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867929173709149812.post-68881473213604320542009-11-08T12:49:00.018-06:002009-11-15T08:03:44.234-06:00Scenes from the weekend<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SvcvhYjyhYI/AAAAAAAAB40/4cQSTcLsh9o/s1600-h/Park.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SvcvhYjyhYI/AAAAAAAAB40/4cQSTcLsh9o/s320/Park.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401838528628950402" /></a>Park<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SvcvLJtuO3I/AAAAAAAAB4s/lHEHhrNxI00/s1600-h/Camp.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SvcvLJtuO3I/AAAAAAAAB4s/lHEHhrNxI00/s320/Camp.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401838146686958450" /></a>Camp<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/Svcu2h_v0vI/AAAAAAAAB4k/e5pwRAX2MF8/s1600-h/Home.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/Svcu2h_v0vI/AAAAAAAAB4k/e5pwRAX2MF8/s320/Home.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401837792427758322" /></a>Home<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/Svcug7HsINI/AAAAAAAAB4c/qQEQZ-J1gJU/s1600-h/Lloyd+(2).JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/Svcug7HsINI/AAAAAAAAB4c/qQEQZ-J1gJU/s320/Lloyd+(2).JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401837421214834898" /></a>Lloyd<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SvcuSvFm4gI/AAAAAAAAB4U/YxGoAU11mOM/s1600-h/Morning.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SvcuSvFm4gI/AAAAAAAAB4U/YxGoAU11mOM/s320/Morning.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401837177466708482" /></a>Morning<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/Svct9t50lQI/AAAAAAAAB4M/SNu2f2KCOQs/s1600-h/Wake+up!.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/Svct9t50lQI/AAAAAAAAB4M/SNu2f2KCOQs/s320/Wake+up!.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401836816371586306" /></a>Wake up!<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/Svctn3uekkI/AAAAAAAAB4E/xW6pfijXcJw/s1600-h/River.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/Svctn3uekkI/AAAAAAAAB4E/xW6pfijXcJw/s320/River.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401836441051238978" /></a>River<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/Svcs-8N0vZI/AAAAAAAAB38/t9nYRiAxXAE/s1600-h/Dusk+(2).JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/Svcs-8N0vZI/AAAAAAAAB38/t9nYRiAxXAE/s320/Dusk+(2).JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401835737881820562" /></a>Dusk<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SvcsvBlTNzI/AAAAAAAAB30/NRTsZrlavus/s1600-h/Dinner.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SvcsvBlTNzI/AAAAAAAAB30/NRTsZrlavus/s320/Dinner.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401835464444557106" /></a>Dinner<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SvcsQJcWOOI/AAAAAAAAB3s/ibcXJepkUCw/s1600-h/Dessert.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SvcsQJcWOOI/AAAAAAAAB3s/ibcXJepkUCw/s320/Dessert.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401834933978544354" /></a>Dessert<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/Svcr6k04rFI/AAAAAAAAB3k/ruduecNM0AY/s1600-h/Fire.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/Svcr6k04rFI/AAAAAAAAB3k/ruduecNM0AY/s320/Fire.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401834563372100690" /></a>Fire<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/Svcre-rOnyI/AAAAAAAAB3c/ehQBeDym214/s1600-h/Fun.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/Svcre-rOnyI/AAAAAAAAB3c/ehQBeDym214/s320/Fun.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401834089274580770" /></a>Fun<br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SvcrIbirlgI/AAAAAAAAB3U/jIrd8zDMMk0/s320/Feet.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401833701886367234" /></div><div>Feet</div><div><div>(you knew I had to get at least one in there)</div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Capshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13941759262351903387noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867929173709149812.post-28630460185204672932009-11-04T19:46:00.018-06:002009-11-15T08:03:26.257-06:00Recipe: Mexican Chicken DumpThere 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. <div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SvNW_DS7dLI/AAAAAAAAB2k/zszW7Art_j0/s320/crockpot1.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 260px; height: 260px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400756019363804338" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>So if you are like me, and struggling with your CP, this recipe is for you. You can't screw it up. I</div><div> 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</div><div>already make this, but just in case you haven't heard of this before - here you go.</div><div><br /></div><div>In your CP, dump the following items:</div><div><br /></div><div>4-6 chicken breasts, FROZEN (don't be scared, it's ok, they will cook up nicely and not dry out)</div><div>1 large jar salsa (I use Pace Picante Sauce)</div><div>1 can corn, drained</div><div>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) </div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SvNX1xAb8aI/AAAAAAAAB2s/6qofwXNx-ko/s320/347.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400756959347208610" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SvNYiDfXvxI/AAAAAAAAB20/3RLglRsLufM/s320/350.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400757720223039250" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SvNZBFPh0qI/AAAAAAAAB28/3IyjHnU-Zsk/s320/351.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400758253269406370" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SvNZgSrCrxI/AAAAAAAAB3E/76VYMuvseVo/s320/352.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400758789450411794" /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I serve it with warm tortillas and Spanish rice. </div><div><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SvNaysRWbOI/AAAAAAAAB3M/5PG3eydBlE8/s320/354.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400760205071248610" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>And yes, I use the rice out of the paper package. Go ahead and do it - it tastes good</div><div> and this meal is supposed to be easy for you. </div><div><br /></div><div>Mmmm Mmmmm Good! Mexican Chicken Monkey Dump! Hope you make it and enjoy it! </div><div><br /></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">*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 "</span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">Voy</span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">-</span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">lah</span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">" instead of "</span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">Wah</span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">-</span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">lah</span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">", 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. </span></i></div>Capshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13941759262351903387noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867929173709149812.post-45513984228358920312009-11-03T09:32:00.029-06:002009-11-15T08:05:05.609-06:00Babies and Boobies and Clowns! Oh My!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.<br /><div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><div>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, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">ANYthing</span></span>, he is going to follow it through to the bitter end and obsess about it until it's perfect.</div><div> Guitar building, pickle making, getting a TV signal on the computer in the bedroom, not wearing a belt to work, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">locksmithing</span></span>, boycotting Sprint - whatever it is, you can bet that when he decides he's on board - he is On Board.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, he wanted to be a clown. He searched the Halloween stores and the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">innernets</span></span> 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 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">craftmanship</span></span>. I'm not making this up. Here is the final product:</div><div><br /></div><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SvDbupxSxOI/AAAAAAAAB2M/LHT8nN1EkyY/s320/c.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400057547750294754" /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Meet "Robert" the Clown. He thought it was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">heeeeeeelarious</span></span> that his clown name was Robert. Sometimes I don't get his humor.</div><div><br /></div><div>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 <a href="http://onlythe80s.com/11/addicted-to-love/">girls from the Robert Palmer videos</a> 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 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Wii</span> 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.</div><div><br /></div><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SvDbZ_jHO_I/AAAAAAAAB2E/Xt3_PXJBBO8/s320/b.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400057192819145714" /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>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?</div><div><br /></div><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SvDbC8Qj6SI/AAAAAAAAB18/zi-u1bFDYu8/s320/Halloween09+051.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400056796799035682" /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SvDacX58otI/AAAAAAAAB10/j5uYj0eYyMY/s320/Halloween09+026.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400056134205481682" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>They also enjoyed Robert's balloon animals, after they changed out of their costumes.</div><div><br /></div><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SvDYxr9etrI/AAAAAAAAB1s/LVlN85jrwLM/s320/j.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400054301343004338" /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Maddie really liked the hat that I made for her. </div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SvDYVfxuu1I/AAAAAAAAB1k/zOSWQQKsc1w/s320/e.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400053817036159826" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>She liked it so much that she kept bringing me beers all night. </div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SvDXZI3PpcI/AAAAAAAAB1c/FaXvcFajsto/s320/t.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400052780093121986" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>See? This is why you have kids. </div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">(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) </span></i></div><div><br /></div><div>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 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">BCOD</span></span> on Sunday morning to be in Austin for the <a href="http://www.komenaustin.org/">Race for the Cure</a>. 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. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Komen</span> Foundation, and I walked/jogged the 5k with my friend Lesli from work.</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SvBRnbeOvaI/AAAAAAAAB1U/HVxVS8y0bvU/s320/Catherine_Lang.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 237px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399905691048525218" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>It was an amazing experience. Thank you to everyone who supported me! </div><div><br /></div><div>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 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">cro</span>-shit again. Standby for details regarding that train wreck. </div><div><br /></div><div>Gratuitous Stinky Shot!</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SvDdQqBogLI/AAAAAAAAB2U/9tKaL7shw9g/s320/g.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400059231446007986" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Hope you all have a fabulous week, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Dahlings</span>. </div><div><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SvDdxqyb10I/AAAAAAAAB2c/0te8DS1B2p8/s320/zzz.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 264px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400059798586382146" /></div>Capshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13941759262351903387noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867929173709149812.post-52913653871467826342009-10-30T13:31:00.014-05:002009-11-15T08:02:20.648-06:00I'm the man of Nachos!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 <i>never</i> 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.<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><div>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,</div><div> 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. </div><div><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SutUId1RT-I/AAAAAAAAB08/7R6DE8zTSQA/s320/latte.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398501082757418978" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>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 (<i>early</i>, 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.</div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>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:</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SutWfSJOgYI/AAAAAAAAB1E/2w5P5QYUyDQ/s320/001.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398503673780142466" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Chain-o-rama. But what the <i>hell</i> am I supposed to do after that? None of the instructions I've seen have been <i>at all</i> 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.</div><div><br /></div><div>To make myself feel better, I bought a Pumpkin Spice Latte and knit up a little hat for The Cuteness. </div><div><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QSWSOipw2bU/SutW6v-pelI/AAAAAAAAB1M/mNkoflBE_KU/s320/hat+toddler.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398504145645304402" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>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 <a href="http://cappydoodles.blogspot.com/2008/10/party-prep.html">Caps' Famous Cheese Ball</a>. 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. </div><div><br /></div><div>Happy Halloween! Nachos! </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Capshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13941759262351903387noreply@blogger.com6