Saturday, September 25, 2010
Ve are dun!
MOm and Uncle Rick, I will officially be deleting this blog very very very soon. You will have to hijack another innocent child's vulnerable scripting center. I suggest Faith.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Unsure
So I had an experience this weekend that left me bewildered. Like most moms who have spent years in diapers, dishes and antibacterial hand gel, the invitation to go out and have fun is a tempting pandora's box. We all know we need it. The box factor comes in when we realize that we may need to purchase spanx, get a haircut and actually apply lipgloss to rock our inner glam factor. But if you are desperate and it happens to be a part of a commitment to attend a wedding - you go for it.
As a closet introvert with years of social practice, I charge up my batteries for these type of events. So raring to go, I charged ahead full-steam. Having volunteered to help with the various needs of the weekend, I met many of the family members and friends. That being said - all went well until the reception. I put myself together and got ready to have fun. The dancing got going and I jumped in with my girlies to kick it up. I mingled and shmingled to my hearts content. But I noticed some crude attention from some of the fellas as I went along. I felt a little uncomfortable, but decided boys are boys and blew it off.
As a back history, I was raised in a conservative christian home. Guys were generally not the focus of my teen existence and I've never really learned the skills of relating well with men.
Back to the reception. So I finished up the night wondering something. "Am I comfortable dressing in an attractive way and being a christian?" Why this became an issue was because I had comments about my a**, and several comments about looking sexy and even f-bombs and sexual innuendos thoughout the event. One fellow in particular was over the line and down the canyon, so to speak.
Did I dress in too provocative a way? Did I dance in the same way? Did this affect my "reputation" ;) as a believer? I was with regular folks who weren't necessarily christians and who had been drinking plenty. Was it them or was it me? I've never considered myself sexy or tryed act that way. I've never flirted (ask my husband, I'm still trying to learn with him, poor baby!) and so I'm confused.
Any advice out there? Some male perspective would be especially helpful.
As a closet introvert with years of social practice, I charge up my batteries for these type of events. So raring to go, I charged ahead full-steam. Having volunteered to help with the various needs of the weekend, I met many of the family members and friends. That being said - all went well until the reception. I put myself together and got ready to have fun. The dancing got going and I jumped in with my girlies to kick it up. I mingled and shmingled to my hearts content. But I noticed some crude attention from some of the fellas as I went along. I felt a little uncomfortable, but decided boys are boys and blew it off.
As a back history, I was raised in a conservative christian home. Guys were generally not the focus of my teen existence and I've never really learned the skills of relating well with men.
Back to the reception. So I finished up the night wondering something. "Am I comfortable dressing in an attractive way and being a christian?" Why this became an issue was because I had comments about my a**, and several comments about looking sexy and even f-bombs and sexual innuendos thoughout the event. One fellow in particular was over the line and down the canyon, so to speak.
Did I dress in too provocative a way? Did I dance in the same way? Did this affect my "reputation" ;) as a believer? I was with regular folks who weren't necessarily christians and who had been drinking plenty. Was it them or was it me? I've never considered myself sexy or tryed act that way. I've never flirted (ask my husband, I'm still trying to learn with him, poor baby!) and so I'm confused.
Any advice out there? Some male perspective would be especially helpful.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Something about...
There is just something about a good meal. My dishes are piled high, bills are out and ready to be paid, laundry needs to be separated and I am in a bliss moment. I took the time to prepare this chilled avocado cream soup with handmade crispy chile-lime strips, handchopped pico and sour cream that Afton took from our cow... (oops, the sour cream came from Aldi's). Levi and I popped open cold Rolling Rocks and are eating together. Kids are asleep and it's a cool Sunday night.
Seriously, this kind of simplicity is worth the effort ;)
Seriously, this kind of simplicity is worth the effort ;)
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Afton's Cookie Kit Fundraiser
I need to sell 10 kits by Mar 10. Would you mind helping out? The kits are only $10 a pop and perfect for Easter gifts/projects. (And they are FUN!)Monday, January 26, 2009
Sick o' the sick
Lysol wipes, vitamins, airborne, nyquil, redi-tabs, hot tea, calling schools, Bah-bah-bah. I am sick of my family being sick! It has been a month.
I believe Afton has Fifth's Disease, Cedar now has pinkeye, I cannot talk-breathe-holla properly and Levi is a walking combo of all of these.
We are a hot mess. There, I'm done complaining. Just needed to shoot my thoughts into the universe.
I believe Afton has Fifth's Disease, Cedar now has pinkeye, I cannot talk-breathe-holla properly and Levi is a walking combo of all of these.
We are a hot mess. There, I'm done complaining. Just needed to shoot my thoughts into the universe.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Funerals are funny
Funerals are funny. Funny strange. Could be the cold medicine I'm ingesting in obscene amounts and the unwise choice of high heels as footgear. My grandma died this week. She had wild fuzzy silver hair and was sharply funny. Her eastern European bluntness could stop you short when she criticized or fill your heart when she poured out her love. Independance,endurance,and inquisitiveness marked her path.
I will miss you my warm polish grandma. My homestyled slice of the city safe harbor. My intelligent friend-I will miss you
I will miss you my warm polish grandma. My homestyled slice of the city safe harbor. My intelligent friend-I will miss you
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Breathless
After watching/listening/overhearing parts of the inauguaration and pomp today, I was struck. I suppose I expected to feel and see what we've always seen and felt. Big words, Big hats, big parades and the sense that expectations would not be met. The sense that we'd feel the other wingtip fall tomorrow.
Unexpectedly, in the midst of everything - I felt a stream of simplicity and dare I say it...spirituality. The lack of a need to bluster. The pullback into quietness of soul with Yo-Yo Ma and the gang. In the past, it has felt embarassing to hope in our nation, or justice. There is the lurking cynic, the dark mocker and even my own apprehension that has said no to the element most basic in our human creation - HOPE. But today, it came unbidden, burbling up - melting elements of fear. What truly could happen if even most of our nation just began to try? To try harder? Bush's choices often often made our nation look like one large ass. Who wants to maintain that image?
This morning, who could not be moved to tears? Something real is happening here. Our nation desires it, the younger generations are demanding it - I pray to God that Barack and his buddies can stand under the weight of a nations hopes. WHat works for me is that Barack calls each American into responsibility and accountability. To step out from the shadows and not wilt with laziness. He's calling out to the best part of ourselves.
The sheer breadth of body movement down the length of the lawn was spectacular. I Have been there when it was 1/3 - 1/2 full and it seemed endless. Did you see that glorious mass?
Well, my girl Afton is sick so gotta go motha-love her bitty biscuits. What did you all think?
Unexpectedly, in the midst of everything - I felt a stream of simplicity and dare I say it...spirituality. The lack of a need to bluster. The pullback into quietness of soul with Yo-Yo Ma and the gang. In the past, it has felt embarassing to hope in our nation, or justice. There is the lurking cynic, the dark mocker and even my own apprehension that has said no to the element most basic in our human creation - HOPE. But today, it came unbidden, burbling up - melting elements of fear. What truly could happen if even most of our nation just began to try? To try harder? Bush's choices often often made our nation look like one large ass. Who wants to maintain that image?
This morning, who could not be moved to tears? Something real is happening here. Our nation desires it, the younger generations are demanding it - I pray to God that Barack and his buddies can stand under the weight of a nations hopes. WHat works for me is that Barack calls each American into responsibility and accountability. To step out from the shadows and not wilt with laziness. He's calling out to the best part of ourselves.
The sheer breadth of body movement down the length of the lawn was spectacular. I Have been there when it was 1/3 - 1/2 full and it seemed endless. Did you see that glorious mass?
Well, my girl Afton is sick so gotta go motha-love her bitty biscuits. What did you all think?
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Long fatty post
Winter purity
Tonight I drove through magic. The kind of quiet, late-night sparkling beauty that speaks to the luxury of being alone. I like the quiet danger of being out in a snow storm when things are a bit out of control. Its the same feeling I get on a motorcycle - powerful, vulnerable, and somehow a feeling a great stillness and rest.
Being a personality chameleon, I like being around people that draw out my vital streams. Always, in times of snowy unknown, I think of an unusual old friend. Have you ever met a young person that felt so seasoned from their life’s twists, that they seemed ageless, almost iconic? Trubert Flowers (yes, his real name) was (and I assume is) like that. In the height of America’s grunge period, I met this no holds barred American cowboy. Quiet, prepared and mischevious, I had never seen anything like him. Full on six-shooters, chaps, Wranglers and snapfront shirt. I rudely gaped in amazement the first time I met him. I was sure he was joking. Or a circus clown.
I traveled through Amarillo, his landing spot, several times. I’d join friends in sledding behind his horses and watching him break a horse. I even learned how to crack one hell of a long bullwhip – poorly, I might add. But my favorite experiences were getting caught with my girlfriends in his truck on the highway in snowstorms. I remember being pretty scared coming home with a few of my teammates from a church service in his truck. Winter storms blow up fast and nasty around the panhandle. It becomes quickly apparent who is prepared and who’s going to be waiting for a tow.
I watched Trubert, a man at ease in his element, comfortable with the unexpected and even enjoying it. He pulled car after car out of the ditches while we girls sat like idiots. I barely drove a stick shift –let alone that behemoth of a truck he tooled around in.
Observing him made me want to be stronger, less oblivious, and more prepared. So in the snow tonight, I embraced the strength of knowing more of who I am and liking it. When the wheels spun and the snow was thick, I remembered that I could be at rest; I could enjoy the purity of winter.
Tonight I drove through magic. The kind of quiet, late-night sparkling beauty that speaks to the luxury of being alone. I like the quiet danger of being out in a snow storm when things are a bit out of control. Its the same feeling I get on a motorcycle - powerful, vulnerable, and somehow a feeling a great stillness and rest.
Being a personality chameleon, I like being around people that draw out my vital streams. Always, in times of snowy unknown, I think of an unusual old friend. Have you ever met a young person that felt so seasoned from their life’s twists, that they seemed ageless, almost iconic? Trubert Flowers (yes, his real name) was (and I assume is) like that. In the height of America’s grunge period, I met this no holds barred American cowboy. Quiet, prepared and mischevious, I had never seen anything like him. Full on six-shooters, chaps, Wranglers and snapfront shirt. I rudely gaped in amazement the first time I met him. I was sure he was joking. Or a circus clown.
I traveled through Amarillo, his landing spot, several times. I’d join friends in sledding behind his horses and watching him break a horse. I even learned how to crack one hell of a long bullwhip – poorly, I might add. But my favorite experiences were getting caught with my girlfriends in his truck on the highway in snowstorms. I remember being pretty scared coming home with a few of my teammates from a church service in his truck. Winter storms blow up fast and nasty around the panhandle. It becomes quickly apparent who is prepared and who’s going to be waiting for a tow.
I watched Trubert, a man at ease in his element, comfortable with the unexpected and even enjoying it. He pulled car after car out of the ditches while we girls sat like idiots. I barely drove a stick shift –let alone that behemoth of a truck he tooled around in.
Observing him made me want to be stronger, less oblivious, and more prepared. So in the snow tonight, I embraced the strength of knowing more of who I am and liking it. When the wheels spun and the snow was thick, I remembered that I could be at rest; I could enjoy the purity of winter.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Yah, I did it.
Just voted early.
Feeling pretty happy that although I was directed to several false locations, had to wait behind 35 non-english speaking individuals, had a sleeping baby laying on top of me and was holding A's french fries and my 13 lb purse in my voting pen hand - I did it. And we live in a country where I can - my looks, my gender, my mental status :) cannot keep me from selecting whomever I so choose.
I am excited about this election and encourage procrastinators like me to get in the absentee vote window - let's go people!
Feeling pretty happy that although I was directed to several false locations, had to wait behind 35 non-english speaking individuals, had a sleeping baby laying on top of me and was holding A's french fries and my 13 lb purse in my voting pen hand - I did it. And we live in a country where I can - my looks, my gender, my mental status :) cannot keep me from selecting whomever I so choose.
I am excited about this election and encourage procrastinators like me to get in the absentee vote window - let's go people!
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Obama-drama
Jen, thank you for the reminder. Did I not lovingly suggest ever so long ago that Barack was one to watch? I swear this is the only election in all my voting years that feels like I don't have to choose between two big fat liars.
By the way, if I hear "Maverick" one more time, I'll never be able to watch that cheeseball movie again. Talk about verbal burnout. And for all you pro-lifers - I am still as hard-core as ever in believing in both the life of the mom and the babies - but if you are gullible enough to vote on one topic only for the leader of our nation...all I have to say is please use both lobes of your God-given brain. There are many ways to fight abortion and blindly choosing a candidate because of one topic is like blindly choosing a candidate because they are supposedly christian. C'mon people - whether at the local, national or international level we must look at the FULL picture.
Frankly, I don't dislike a person for voting their party. What I hate is uneducated voting, or even worse - getting the "list" from a pastor telling you that real christians only vote republican. Just peels my skin, that one.
By the way, if I hear "Maverick" one more time, I'll never be able to watch that cheeseball movie again. Talk about verbal burnout. And for all you pro-lifers - I am still as hard-core as ever in believing in both the life of the mom and the babies - but if you are gullible enough to vote on one topic only for the leader of our nation...all I have to say is please use both lobes of your God-given brain. There are many ways to fight abortion and blindly choosing a candidate because of one topic is like blindly choosing a candidate because they are supposedly christian. C'mon people - whether at the local, national or international level we must look at the FULL picture.
Frankly, I don't dislike a person for voting their party. What I hate is uneducated voting, or even worse - getting the "list" from a pastor telling you that real christians only vote republican. Just peels my skin, that one.
Blogged with the Flock Browser
Sunday, September 21, 2008
One more Cedar
Today I took only Cedar to church. As we drove, I pointed out the geese flying overhead and shared how the point goose will lead and then fall back when tired and another goose will replace him and how they repeat this process for their entire migration. They "share leadership". (My not-so-subtle attempts at parenting the kids power struggle).
Cedar says, "Like worship". I didn't get the connection so her repeated it. I realized he was talking about what he sees modeled at the church. Levi and Theresa have "shared leadership" during worship. So I probed a bit and asked him, "what does it mean to be a leader to you?"
He remarked that "a leader protects and helps."
How simple and precious out of the mouth of a 6 yr old.
Cedar says, "Like worship". I didn't get the connection so her repeated it. I realized he was talking about what he sees modeled at the church. Levi and Theresa have "shared leadership" during worship. So I probed a bit and asked him, "what does it mean to be a leader to you?"
He remarked that "a leader protects and helps."
How simple and precious out of the mouth of a 6 yr old.
Blogged with the Flock Browser
Not just a ladle...
While doing dishes, Cedar picked up the large soup ladle and commented under he breath, "is this for soup or for poop?"
I kid you not. He is scarred from Aftons turdlet floaties from 1 yr ago. Angie Ladd is scarred from Afton filling her kiddie pool with...well, y'know...and then making a beeline for the big kids' pool.
I kid you not. He is scarred from Aftons turdlet floaties from 1 yr ago. Angie Ladd is scarred from Afton filling her kiddie pool with...well, y'know...and then making a beeline for the big kids' pool.
Blogged with the Flock Browser
Monday, August 4, 2008
turtle-brain
So I moved into an area that is type A. Not generally a big deal until you have da wee ones. And they enter school.
My brain being the gift that it is, vainly struggles to keep above water when it comes to "Now make sure your child brings a turtleneck to school on Monday" turning into "Mom, no one else had a turtle at school on Monday..."
There is a strange underlying current in the brains of women on the A side. I'm not sure how to navigate these waters. I know I am a frustration, an amusement, sometimes even an irritation. Our world seems to be on the terms of the A type. I have actually taken jobs and responsibilities completely out of my league in these linear lines of work to try to grow and mature over the last 10 yrs. But over time, I've discovered I just feel like the weirdo.
What do spiritual, artistic people do that involves building bridges and not cloistering and complaining about A-land... I'm pursuing what that means for my little world right now. I've polished the outside for long enough and long for my inner rawness to get messy and find my voice in spirituality and art. My wildness needs my empowerment. I LOVE my type A friends and actually need them. I think thats part of the power and humility of community. It's just time for me to be over the sense of insecurity of not measuring up - because in these areas I will never in my weakness be as glorious as someone's strengths.
How freeing. How beautiful. Where is my dreadlock wig?
My brain being the gift that it is, vainly struggles to keep above water when it comes to "Now make sure your child brings a turtleneck to school on Monday" turning into "Mom, no one else had a turtle at school on Monday..."
There is a strange underlying current in the brains of women on the A side. I'm not sure how to navigate these waters. I know I am a frustration, an amusement, sometimes even an irritation. Our world seems to be on the terms of the A type. I have actually taken jobs and responsibilities completely out of my league in these linear lines of work to try to grow and mature over the last 10 yrs. But over time, I've discovered I just feel like the weirdo.
What do spiritual, artistic people do that involves building bridges and not cloistering and complaining about A-land... I'm pursuing what that means for my little world right now. I've polished the outside for long enough and long for my inner rawness to get messy and find my voice in spirituality and art. My wildness needs my empowerment. I LOVE my type A friends and actually need them. I think thats part of the power and humility of community. It's just time for me to be over the sense of insecurity of not measuring up - because in these areas I will never in my weakness be as glorious as someone's strengths.
How freeing. How beautiful. Where is my dreadlock wig?
Blogged with the Flock Browser
Monday, June 2, 2008
Hup-two
Well, enough is enough. As I have been able to shift into a more focused mamacita mode, I've realized an awful truth. Super-B was right. :)
Super-B and I complement each other in our parenting styles which usually turns out well. He tends to be more structural (which helps when I'm feeling tired or lazy) and I'm more gentle or preceptive (like when the w.d. smacks a Barbie on Super-'s face to wake him at 5am to play) We love them and want them to learn to think, not just obey.
Super-B said I was too soft, and too inconsistent. I've really worked on the inconsistency part - but how much tenderness a mom gives is a tough crossing to navigate. I go there by default. Sometimes the embarassing old-school "Protect them from the mean, misunderstanding dad" mental shenanigans crop up, too.
But there comes a time... I have always heard that if children will obey on the 3rd time, they will obey on the 1st. I've resisted this philosophy because I wanted to give my kids time to think about truly obeying. It worked at first, and obviously in time, fails.
As Levi has been working more, I've had to put on my big-girl panties. And I am tired. But I've decide I have the bootie to wear the panties which unloads like this:
Kids need to learn to respond to their mom's voice immediately, no excuses (except for hearing - we extruded 2 inches of wax from Cedar's ear today by candling -remarkable!)
1st time obedience is important, and so is the patience for kids to grow into that. Frankly, I still haven't and God loves the prodigal - but to help them avoid unnecessary pain because of good listening is common sense.
Sassy mouths must be quickly curbed in. The first time Cedar was incredibly sassy - I actually smacked his mouth. He started crying and so did I! Levi and I had talked for 4 yrs about how we would NEVER hit our kids in the face. It doesn't serve a purpose to smack a face other that to negatively shame. It was the weirdest instinctual reaction that I will never do again. Ugh - what a wake-up call to my lack of a plan and lack of emotional self-control.
We've now spent a pretty yucky week and a half shifting into a new gear - the gear of "Momma will not take your crap." Boy, I am learning and having to be humble in the midst of this. Can anyone relate?
Super-B and I complement each other in our parenting styles which usually turns out well. He tends to be more structural (which helps when I'm feeling tired or lazy) and I'm more gentle or preceptive (like when the w.d. smacks a Barbie on Super-'s face to wake him at 5am to play) We love them and want them to learn to think, not just obey.
Super-B said I was too soft, and too inconsistent. I've really worked on the inconsistency part - but how much tenderness a mom gives is a tough crossing to navigate. I go there by default. Sometimes the embarassing old-school "Protect them from the mean, misunderstanding dad" mental shenanigans crop up, too.
But there comes a time... I have always heard that if children will obey on the 3rd time, they will obey on the 1st. I've resisted this philosophy because I wanted to give my kids time to think about truly obeying. It worked at first, and obviously in time, fails.
As Levi has been working more, I've had to put on my big-girl panties. And I am tired. But I've decide I have the bootie to wear the panties which unloads like this:
Kids need to learn to respond to their mom's voice immediately, no excuses (except for hearing - we extruded 2 inches of wax from Cedar's ear today by candling -remarkable!)
1st time obedience is important, and so is the patience for kids to grow into that. Frankly, I still haven't and God loves the prodigal - but to help them avoid unnecessary pain because of good listening is common sense.
Sassy mouths must be quickly curbed in. The first time Cedar was incredibly sassy - I actually smacked his mouth. He started crying and so did I! Levi and I had talked for 4 yrs about how we would NEVER hit our kids in the face. It doesn't serve a purpose to smack a face other that to negatively shame. It was the weirdest instinctual reaction that I will never do again. Ugh - what a wake-up call to my lack of a plan and lack of emotional self-control.
We've now spent a pretty yucky week and a half shifting into a new gear - the gear of "Momma will not take your crap." Boy, I am learning and having to be humble in the midst of this. Can anyone relate?
Monday, April 21, 2008
A Nagger bites her tongue
Every spouse has a pet peeve about their better half. I knowingly married a man with ADHD, which means I married clutter junction.
Yes, I do enter into the nag-nation when the trails of crap become too deep to navigate. But yesterday was the ultimate. The weather was gorgeous and I wanted to straighten out the garage a bit. When I had finally rediscovered the back of the dump corner (that place in the garage that arctic folk pile stuff until spring, I found IT.
Many months ago, my husband went bird hunting with his intrepid buddies. It was so cold that the hunters actually went to their own homes to finish up cleaning the birds. My children watched and learned all about "parts" of the birdies. And Super B left the bloody feathers all over that corner of the garage. ANd left a nasty bucket sticky with bird goo in the middle of it. Of course I asked Super B the next day to clean it up. And I asked 3 or 4 more times. It never happened. I swept up most of the feathers (they were being tracked into the house) and waited. Folks, I am biting my tongue. It is still there. Any bets on how long it will take? If I wasn't so grossed out- I would do it myself and shut up.
Yes, I do enter into the nag-nation when the trails of crap become too deep to navigate. But yesterday was the ultimate. The weather was gorgeous and I wanted to straighten out the garage a bit. When I had finally rediscovered the back of the dump corner (that place in the garage that arctic folk pile stuff until spring, I found IT.
Many months ago, my husband went bird hunting with his intrepid buddies. It was so cold that the hunters actually went to their own homes to finish up cleaning the birds. My children watched and learned all about "parts" of the birdies. And Super B left the bloody feathers all over that corner of the garage. ANd left a nasty bucket sticky with bird goo in the middle of it. Of course I asked Super B the next day to clean it up. And I asked 3 or 4 more times. It never happened. I swept up most of the feathers (they were being tracked into the house) and waited. Folks, I am biting my tongue. It is still there. Any bets on how long it will take? If I wasn't so grossed out- I would do it myself and shut up.
A lesson
When you hear your child say, "Look mom- - paw prints!" and you do not own a pet...beware.
In the moment it took me to pour my desperately needed morning coffee, my whirling dirvish smeared both of her hands with the SUGARFREE apricot jam from her bagel and proceeded to coat my dining room table with "pawprints".
In the moment it took me to pour my desperately needed morning coffee, my whirling dirvish smeared both of her hands with the SUGARFREE apricot jam from her bagel and proceeded to coat my dining room table with "pawprints".
Friday, April 18, 2008
When is THIS stage over?
Whining. Whining. Whining.
It is as if the skin is being peeled from my ears.
The words of the illustrious Tabitha L. ring in my ears, "If anything, be consistent."
Does hiding in the corner of the bathroom, rocking and weeping at 4 pm everyday count? Oh, cuz I am CONSISTENT.
It is as if the skin is being peeled from my ears.
The words of the illustrious Tabitha L. ring in my ears, "If anything, be consistent."
Does hiding in the corner of the bathroom, rocking and weeping at 4 pm everyday count? Oh, cuz I am CONSISTENT.
Monday, March 3, 2008
Name-calling
What? How did I miss the glorious opportunity? Bloggers renaming their loved ones so as to protect and ALSO slander? Or glorify certain traits? I'm enamored.
Hmmm... Levi could be "Mr B", short for Bucky McBuckster - always bucking the status quo in his search for ultimate truth and justice. Wait - that sounds very Marvel Comics - YES!! It will now be "Super B"!!!
Afton - "Whirliebird", a smilier version of whirling dervish.
Cedar - Charmster, a cross between his obviously adorable attributes and a hyperactive hamster...
Perfect!! This is glorious. On to renaming chores - vehicles- annoying people ("fatfingers')
This is a days worth of fun!
Hmmm... Levi could be "Mr B", short for Bucky McBuckster - always bucking the status quo in his search for ultimate truth and justice. Wait - that sounds very Marvel Comics - YES!! It will now be "Super B"!!!
Afton - "Whirliebird", a smilier version of whirling dervish.
Cedar - Charmster, a cross between his obviously adorable attributes and a hyperactive hamster...
Perfect!! This is glorious. On to renaming chores - vehicles- annoying people ("fatfingers')
This is a days worth of fun!
Monday, February 11, 2008
Chillicious
Yesterday was dip your pants in liquid nitrogen, crack them off on the way to start your car cold. Snap your wet hair off if it's not under a rocking nasty huge babushka hat cold. Forget fashion-wear icefishing mukluks to high end corporate meeting cold.
Wow.
I've notice an interesting hopeful driving attitude here in Green Bay too. "Gosh I hope it warms up to 4 degrees so my car will start." "Maybe my neighbors will hit a deer to create a slushy spot for some traction at the icy corner those damn snowplows refuse to take care of..." "Maybe my brand-new vehicle will warm up to 40 degrees after driving 3 hours with the heat on full-tornado vent melting blast..."
Afton - peering out the window, completely relaxed, asked, "Mom, can we go to the North Pole?" "Oh, honey, " I replied, "we live there."
Wow.
I've notice an interesting hopeful driving attitude here in Green Bay too. "Gosh I hope it warms up to 4 degrees so my car will start." "Maybe my neighbors will hit a deer to create a slushy spot for some traction at the icy corner those damn snowplows refuse to take care of..." "Maybe my brand-new vehicle will warm up to 40 degrees after driving 3 hours with the heat on full-tornado vent melting blast..."
Afton - peering out the window, completely relaxed, asked, "Mom, can we go to the North Pole?" "Oh, honey, " I replied, "we live there."
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