The Super Bowel

… yep… went there.  This is just a little note to the folks who buy advertising space during the Superbowl for a bajillion dollars per second… STOP WITH THE BOWEL ISSUE COMMERCIALS!!  I don’t want to see a walking intestine traipsing thither and hither whilst I’m trying to gorge on 800 bagel bites with a side of nacho cheese.  That’s like totally defeating the purpose of my goal in even sitting through a neverending football game… which is to watch the musical portions and the commercials, and eat way too many fried things for one sitting. (Which baseball teams played again?)  There were at least 3 commercials about bowel products (different brands too… not the same one over and over)… THE HUMANITY!?   Also, the people who thought the toenail fungus commercials were a homerun… check your door… I sent you a box of athlete’s foot socks in keeping with the spirit of the commercial.

Rant over… until next year.

In other news, we ended up buying 130 Chik-Fil-A nuggets for 3 people to eat last night.  Madre had heard they were having a special where if you bought one nugget, you could get the 2nd one free.  Dudes… sign me the heck up!  I’m all about free on a Saturday night eat-out excursion.  We ordered us 2 SMALL nugget trays in the drive-through and proceeded to pull up to pay for them… 33 dollars!  For a small nugget tray!?!?  It turns out that a small nugget tray has 64 nuggets on it, which means that 2 SMALL nugget trays have 128 nuggets.  I didn’t mean for you to kill a gaggle of chickens on my behalf!  Maybe that’s why I needed those bowel commercials!   Scratch that… nobody needed those bowel commercials.  Tend to your bowel problems in the privacy of not near me, please!   Moral of the story… small means small enough to fit through the door but big enough to wedge your rear into a recliner.  We did bring at least 80 nuggets to our annual Superbowl shindig the next day, though… so they were put to good bowels.  STOP!

Makayla doing her best impression of an owly owl burrito…

Look at Baby BoBo and hims crazy hair trying to get a hunk of dinomeat…

That boy is all carnivore… speaking of… after he ate the dinomeat, he turned into a dagnabbed dinosaur!  RAWR, BoBo!

So scary!!

Here’s BoBo picking his big bro, E’s nose.  You’ll have to learn that you can pick your friends and you can pick your nose, but you can’t pick your friend’s nose!

Happy 2nd week of February, friends…


Filed under Uncategorized

It’s Too Late To Apologize…

Yesterday during snowcopalypse 2016, when the radio announcers were telling everyone to stay the heck home unless they had 4-wheel drive, we went to the grocery store in a car that barely had half-a-wheel drive.  We like keeping the roads safe… half a wheel at a time.  I’m pretty sure it was karma that whilst we were in the grocery store, we ran into someone I’d hoped I’d never see again for the rest of my entire lifetime.  The last time I’d seen her I was probably 10 years old, and goodness knows I’ve changed since I was 10… because I’m an adult now… and am no longer frizzing my bangs and wearing saucer-sized horn-rimmed spectacles the size of my noggin.  The point of me discussing my appearance from nearly 30 years ago is to say that it was highly likely that this person would never have recognized me if we had passed in the store, but I just so happened to be grocery shopping with Madre, and Madre hasn’t changed a wit in 50 years, so the lady immediately gleed right on over to Madre and gave her a hug… I kept walking, hoping to avoid any awkwardness, but Madre wouldn’t have that, and immediately yelled… and you remember Whitney!?  To which I had to turn back around and feign excitement.   OH HELLLOOOOO… IT’S BEEN AGES!!  

What on Earth do I have against a perfectly nice lady from my childhood?  Not a thing… except that I almost got her children killed approximately 850 times in the space of a neverending summer.  You see, they were our neighbors back in the day, and one year when I happened to be the tender age of 8, I was hired to work full time one summer from 7:30 a.m until 4:30 p.m. Monday through Friday, babysitting her 3 children.  I was 8… the oldest boy was 7, there was a 5-year-old girl, and a 1-year-old baby boy… let me repeat, I was 8!  Mind you, I looked very mature for my age… like a 55-year-old woman with a 5-year-old brain… but looks do not determine maturity, and so the havoc those children wreaked on the house and the neighborhood that summer is stuff that legends are made of.

As an 8-year-old girl, I’d find myself getting so caught up with playing with video games with the 7-year-old or Barbies with the 5-year-old that I’d totally forget about the 1-year-old who by that time was walking all over the place and into everything!  One day, the mom came home to the baby having drawn with permanent black sharpie marker all over a brand new recliner and the walls.  I didn’t even know he was doing it on account of the fact that the Kapers had to be Keystoned and we were on level 10 of the Atari game, Keystone Kapers!

Several times, perfect strangers would knock on the door with the baby in hand saying he had been wandering the streets and they’d almost run him over.  The kids ate what they wanted because Whitney didn’t know how to make toast… let alone anything with health benefits in it.  One day they ate a whole pan of brownies (with my help of course)… brownies that the mother had made to take to a potluck that night.  I was easily distracted and horribly irresponsible… but I was also 8.

Standing in that grocery store yesterday, trying my best to keep my red ears from popping off my noggin, I wanted to apologize for my 8-year-old self, but I didn’t.  I wonder when she saw me if a flood of horrid memories came back to her from the summer all 3 of her children nearly burnt the house down with their 8-year-old babysitter holding the lighter fluid.  I think it’s only fair she make another pan of brownies to celebrate the fact that they all 3 made it to adulthood.  No thanks to Whitney, Babysitting Services Extraordinaire!


Lindsay says Baby BoBear wants to move to Russia… it’s too cold in Russia Baby BoBo…

They’re also teaching him to straight up lick the nasty shopping cart handles… YOU WILL BE A GERM-A-PHOBE, BoBo!




Filed under Childhood, Uncategorized

Yep, I’m Boring…

I have nothing news-worthy to blog about this week… okay, I never really have anything that news-worthy to blog about any week, but I still manage to yammer for a decade.  I’m serious this week.  It might be more exciting to watch hot tar run down a driveway.  Let’s see… Saturdee I bought myself some new socks and a toothbrush… it was blue… the toothbrush, not the socks.  Aside from that… I worked, read 8 bajillion pages in textbooks, drooled out both sides of my mouth, and pulled at least 12 hairs out whilst trying to write Italian dialogue.  My professor told me to quit using Google Translate on my homework… uh, I didn’t… but apparently that’s how talentedly bad I am at it.  It doesn’t work to translate directly she says… and that is why I won’t be an Italian Prime Minister… well, that and every other reason you can think of.

On Saturdee, there was the deer who decided to scare the bejeebers out of me by eating shrubbery 2 feet from my noggin…

I heard this rustling/scratching noise whilst reading one of the aforementioned textbooks and thought it was LucyFur scraping up the furniture again, so I turned into Tyrannical Trudy and began yelling at her to stop.  Turns out she wasn’t in the room, but this dudette wanted to join me for tea and crumpetts (great, Bambi… you bring the tea and crumpetts).

Speaking of LucyFur, she’s adopted some more annoying habits of late… aside from the waking Whitney up 12 times a night and scratching at the furniture in her cabin fever-induced state.  There’s usually construction going on on the back canal bank these days (have I mentioned how much I love the changes they are making!?  Because… NOT!)  She hates the rumbling big truck noises and feels the need to warn the villagers every time there are loud truck rumblings and noises… and to do that she just makes more noise on top of the noise by meowing at the top of her lungs for an hour until it stops.  She’s like Lassie, except no one has been saved from the well with her efforts.  She’s also inherited my OCD qualities by having to knead around the entire edges of whatever she wants to lie down on… case in point…

Did you fall asleep?  I told you!  That was only half of it, she did knead around the entire other side before I pressed record.  You are welcome!  Become an OCD baker, LucyFur… bring in some income!

Have a great week friends… guess what… It’s February next Monday!  HALLELUJAH!

Baby BoBear pictures of the week:

He says… Give me a cookie!!


Filed under School, Uncategorized

Pan-Handling…But Not Literally!

It’s hard to type tonight.  I’m currently wearing 3 Band-Aids on my fingers on account of the fact that I made the mistake of getting in the middle of a fight between the cat and her shower rug… and then the 3rd finger I managed to grate to death.  Anyone for grated bloody finger skin on top of your taco!?!?  Yeah… that was nasty.  I apologize for saying it whilst not wearing my rose-colored glasses.  So, moral of the story:  Let the cat have her dagnabbed shower rug and buy pre-grated cheese.  Who invented the grater anyway!?!?  Obviously someone with more talent and skin than I have!

In other news, a month or so back, I entered a #GiftToast contest spons0red by JCPenney and Trisha Yearwood to win one of her pan sets.  I entered it thinking it would just be like any other contest I enter… chances slim to none that I’ll ever get that 1 minute it took to type my name and info back.  The last time I won something it was as a teeny bopper when I won a typewriter for entering an essay contest at GuidePosts Magazine.  When I say “won” I really mean I only won it for like an hour.  When they figured out that my birthday fell short of the age limit by a year, they took it back.  I was too young.  Y’all… can you believe how old I am!!!  I won a freaking TYPEWRITER when I was 15… a TYPEWRITER!?!?!?  Oh my laws, Grog, get me my chisel.

To make a short story even longer, I haven’t really won anything since, so I guess I was overdo because you could have knocked me over with a feather when Trisha Yearwood private messaged me to tell me that I had won her pan set!  I then immediately started giggling like a mental patient and I’m sure when I answered her back I said some really idiotic things.  Whitney and the idea of talking to a famous person do not go hand in hand… even if it’s behind a computer/phone screen!   Scratch that… Whitney and the idea of talking to ANYONE do not go hand in hand!

They arrived this past week… I’m pretty sure it’s a sign that I should cook more… and dump more bottles of oregano… and grate off my fingers more!

They’re ceramic non-stick so they’re super nice, and the clean up is a snap… especially since you can throw them in the dishwasher.  Look at me being all advertisey and such.  It was not one of the prerequisites to winning, I can assure you!

All in a day’s work… a $150 to $300 pan set for FREE… not lottery winning big yet, but a girl’s gotta work up to that.  An hour with a typewriter… pan set… BILLION DOLLARS!  But I guess first I’d have to become a gambler.  Eh… is Ed McMahon’s prize patrol still out there!?

Question of the Day:  Have you ever won anything?  If so, what was it?  

There was blue sky for approximately 2 minutes this morning before the heavy layer of inversion took over.  It’s the little things!

Baby BoBo Bear picture of the week… BoBear in a basket!

As if!!


Filed under Little Things, Uncategorized

Hello… It’s Me…

Adele is ruining my ear worm life… I can’t get that above song out of my head.  It’s like a never-ending loop, except I don’t know all the words, so it’s mostly… Hello… It’s Me… over and over and over again.  Y’all… climbing the padded walls is only fun when nobody gets hurt!  Stop the Insanity.  I like Adele, I do… but this song is on every time I turn on the radio!  In the meantime I’m anxiously awaiting the song sequel… Goodbye… It’s You, Not Me…  Ultimate breakup song extraordinaire!

In other news, one of my goals this year is to quit being a gigantic lazy patookus and get back to cooking meals that are more involved than stirring a can of beans, corn, and diced tomatoes together.  If it involves more than one dirty bowl, and more than 5 steps, I try to stay away from the recipe… mostly because I’m trying to save myself from stabbing myself in the eyball with my graceful kitchen skills.  It could happen… I once stabbed a hole in my hand trying to declove a clove of garlic.

The first recipe I went for is a healthified vegan version of lasagna using black beans instead of meat and tofu ricotta instead of actual cheese.  I saw it on my favorite Food Network show, Trisha’s Southern Kitchen, and it’s Garth Brooks approved, so what’s good enough for Garth Brooks and Trisha Yearwood is good enough for Whitney, the Graceful Kitchen Knife Stabber… plus, the recipe got rave reviews and 5 stars from the general public online.  Even having been vegetarian at one point for nearly 10 years, I never got much into using tofu.  In my mind, it was this weird mass of goobers in a box, and I try to stay away from that kind of thing on a regular basis.  What I have learned, though, is that tofu can take on any flavor profile you give it, so I took the plunge.

The recipe called for raw cashews and nutritional yeast (not the same as bread yeast)… both of which the regular grocery store did not carry, so I had to go across the street to the health food store that smells like a mix of hemp and athlete’s foot.  Not that I know what athlete’s foot smells like, but I can only imagine it smells similar to the health food store.  And then the problems began.  When making the homemade spaghetti sauce for the lasagna, I made the mistake of trying to pop off the shaker lid on the oregano over the top of the pot, and managed to accidentally pour half a bottle of oregano in when the top came flying off.  Too much oregano tastes like athlete’s foot, so to try to fix it, I poured in 75 more cans of diced tomatoes/tomato paste.  It was still too bitter tasting, and I had enough to feed the entire state of Rhode Island.  After half an hour of simmering the bitter bucket of crap, I threw it down the drain.  Et tu, oregano!?!?  This after trying for an hour and a half to get the food processor to process up my ricotta, I almost gave up cooking for life.  Turns out I was putting the stupid container on backwards.  Don’t be prejudice food processors of America… backwards is a thing too!

I’m thinking of auditioning for the Most Challenged Cooks In America.  If that’s not a show, it really should be one.  I’m not only a contestant… I’m the club president!  The verdict on the black bean lasagna with tofu ricotta?  Pretty dang tastee if I do say so myself.  Next time I’ll make my imaginary chef make it.


We had our sweet family friend, Lavon over last night for dinner to celebrate her birthday!  She is 92 years young and a spitfire if nothing else.  I have fond memories whilst growing up of playing the card game Hand and Foot with Lavon.  HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Lavon!

Makayla was sure no one would remember what this picture meant… it’s obviously 92 with help from Corbin!

Lighting the candles… we didn’t have 92 candles… and the fire department thanked us.

BoBo Bear picture of the week:

Have a fab week, friends… Spring semester starts tomorrow for me, so I’ll be back in my usual spot of banging my head against an Italian wall.  Oh, Italy… why is your food so tasty, but your language so not tastee!?


Filed under Family, Uncategorized

Uh… January…

JANUARY!!!!!!  JaNuArY (translation: that’s 12-year-old girl speak for January)!  I heart-scapade January!

Nope… didn’t work.  Can’t say I didn’t try to be all enthusiastic about my least favorite month of the year!  No offense January, but I’m thinking you’d be a lot more pleasant in say… Hawaii… or Australia!   So far, I’ve muddled through 12 below zero nightly weather and an inversion so thick I didn’t need to eat dinner on account of the fact that there was pollution soup GALORE!   Negative Nelda really enjoys rearing her ugly tentacles during this month.  I’m trying to squash her, but so far she’s taken up residency in the candy aisle and won’t budge.   Stupid Nelda… for crying outloud!   I’ll be able to squash her for a minute or two the first time I catch a glimpse of a blue sky… or you know… a sun.  Give it back, tropical island… the sun, I mean!

In other news… New Year’s Eve we had reservations for this expensive steak house in the valley.  Since I love me a piece of walking beef with a bell around its neck, it seemed like a perfect fit.  We really chose it because they were having a special, 2 for $45 gig… which is still too much for a bloody side of sinewy flesh… I was really hoping they had salad and chicken.  We called in advance and made reservations for 7:45.  By 7:30, my work pager rang and I had to take care of some jobs before I could go, so we called to ask if we could move the reservation back.  They told us they were running behind, so it would be no problem if we didn’t show up until 8:30 or whatever (probably had to scoop up the steer road kill and fillet the mignon or something).

We got there around 8:20-ish and the waiting areas were packed with people… waiting, I suppose, so we stood next to a stinky fireplace that smelled like they just poured a can of kerosene on some blackened logs and called it an evening.  Hey, that’s how I learnt me how to start a fire in young women’s.  The hostesses were not giving out estimates of how long it would be… they were being very vague (which was a problem… honesty is the best policy), and so there were a couple of parties who marched out after having waited half an hour to an hour for their reserved table, and told the hostesses what they thought about that.  Reign it in fellas… it ain’t their fault.  We had waited 20 minutes when we overheard a woman come up and say that she’d been waiting an hour for a party of 4, and they had run out of baked potatoes and something else really important.  POTATOES!?!?  I mean, we’re 20 minutes from the Idaho border here!

That was the last straw… that and the fact that I may have ignited myself into flames with any static electricity on account of the fact that the kerosene smell had permeated my hair follicles.  We left in below zero freezing temperatures and high tailed it to Sizzler’s 5 minutes before closing time.  Who closes at 9:00 on New Year’s Eve!?!?  Uh, Sizzler’s does!   I know they love when people show up to dine at closing time and make them stay later!  Suckers!

Moral of the story:  Do not let people without baked potatoes walk all over you… you’re worth more than that.  Second moral of the story:  January shmanuary!


We are super proud of Christian who will be going back out on his mission to Pennsylvania on Wednesday… good job, kid!   Wear thermals!

I got BoBo Bear a cookie monster for Christmas because cookies are cool and so are monsters.  Lindsay sent these pics, but I think it freaked him out!

Either that or he’s doing his very best cookie impression… but he soon got acquainted with Cookie’s eyeballs… because babies are fans of the eyeball flavor.

Oh baby BoBear… I hope they taste like chocolate chips!



Filed under Family, Uncategorized

BoBear, The Unwrapping Prodigy…

I hope y’all had a very Merry Christmas full of family and food and fun.  What did y’all do?  What did you get?  What did you eat?  But most importantly… did you save some for me and the starving pigme goats in New Guinea!?  Yes, because I should be lumped in with anyone who be starving… said no one ever.

Our Christmas was very low key… and by low key I mean only one hot pad caught on fire… and the house did not burn down.  KNOCK ON ALL OF THE WOOD!  Which was great and all because it be freezing up in this dang joint.  I really enjoy weather below the zero mark… it makes me all tingly with anticipation of bathing suits and pina coladas!   INSERT SARCASM!

BoBear is 4 months old as of Christmas day and he got to open his first ever Christmas present… and a bang up job he did too.  I might just hire him next year to wrap all of my gifts.  He’s an wrapping/unwrapping prodigy as witnessed by the following video.

Big bro Ethan pretty much taught him all he knows in that department… not Lindsay who still opens her gifts like my grandma… Don’t rip the paper dear, we have to use that next year!

Merry BoBoBear Christmas to all and to all a good New Year’s!

Meanwhile… LucyFur has moved on from the reindeer family tree she’s been visiting since the beginning of the month to this half-eaten M&M candy cane.  I don’t make this stuff up… I just report it.

Nobody situated that candy cane on top of her… she just loves it and situated herself underneath it.

After she’s been wrestling with my bathroom shower rug every night and/or sticking her super long striped arms under the bathroom door when someone locks it on her, I’m thinking she needs a lesson in sanity.  Cabin Fever… it’s a real thing!  What will she sleep by next!?  Take a guess!

Happy New Year’s this week!  Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do… which is pretty much everything, except for sleep and eat.  So, do do things I wouldn’t do!


Filed under Christmas, Family, Uncategorized